Just love.

When we do, we can really hear those subtle messages.
This is why anyone and everyone can learn or actually re-learn or re-member how to communicate with animals, nature, the spirit world, your own soul, and so much more.

As I was potting about this morning, lighting candles and incense, making breakfast, doing the laundry, thinking of today’s first @bearandwolfpodcast recording with @swedbutterfly , Elsa butted in as I had just leaned in to kiss her forehead and said “I love you”.

She said “See. That is all you need to do. Loving me. Just love. Nothing else is important. Just love. Let the love which fills your heart up overflow. You can only love when you see the mirror. Look deep into that mirror. See your soul meeting mine. So, all souls meet. Today you focus on loving me. Tomorrow you focus on loving flowers. Another day on loving the rain. And so it goes. Before you know there is only that. Love.”

April 1st 2021, Elsa





We were just getting ready to head outside for a short walk as Akasha and Elsa had just joined me training Krav Maga in the morning and already had quite some action. As I was getting myself and the girls ready for the walk Elsa connected in and she told me:

“Treasure every day girl, treasure every day.”

At the moment she told me this I had just found myself with my thoughts in the future, in the summer, our beautiful Yoga & Hiking trip in Swedish Lapland during the full midnight sun season, my dear friend Stephi coming for a visit in two weeks. All surely to be treasured moments.

And Elsa snapped me right out of it, in to the treausreness of the present moment.

Thank you girl!

Love you. Treasure you.


– Cecilia Götherström, March 7th 2019

Dec 21st, The Promise, Part 21

Image 2018-12-21 at 14.51

“Tipp tapp, tipp tapp, tippetippetipptap, tipp, tipp, tapp.”

Fox came tiptoeing across the gold and silver studded frozen crust, there in the opening where the mountain was sloping downwards. Or climbing upwards – depending on how you see it, where you are coming from , where you are heading.
She burrowed her gentle white-orange head into my flank.

“Love, love, love. I am always where you are. No need to search for me, just listen with tender ears and you will hear me walking in your heart of hearts.”

“Aaaave Mariiia…”

Crisp hymn, being spun out of the silvery fullmoon-sky, spreading like warmhearted mist across the heavens, in between the pines, filling the space around us.

All were gathered. Folks & peoples, tribes & clans, beings & spirits, four-leggeds, winged ones, two leggeds and down at the lake swimming ones. From all dimensions, all times, all stories, all songs, all traditions. As if we were surfing on a wave of blessings, yet we all were still.

The full moon moved closer. How was that possible?


The nine women walked out in the centre of the crowd, drumming, their moonstone and granite adorned belts making connection with the light of the moon, with the soul of the granite cliffs.

The song pf the trees spreading upwards, outwards as the whole forest keyed in.

Home. Home. Home.

Us. Right here. Right now.

The heart-diamond seemed to explode inside my chest. I tossed my head back, let the first unruly howl out from so many more insides than just the one in this body, from so many centuries, eons, lifetimes.

As we all harmonized I could tell this was not just our song. This was the song. The birth. The letting go. The honouring. The becoming through being.

I looked around me.

White, beautiful, beautiful White. Ever wise, ever loving, ever there, ever stubborn, ever true to herself.

Fox. My HeartFox. Gentle, sturdy, determined. Loyal to love, joy and what she cherishes above nothing else.

Raven, dear Raven. No one makes coffee like Raven. No one calls in Odin and White Wizard like Raven. No one has a sense humour like Raven.

Jake. Always there. Never forgotten, never forgetting. Not needing a task or a template. Happy with being the company, the glue.

Wizard. White Wizard. My dear companion, protection, and witty elder.

Melvinia. Me. I am there. She with the ornamented shield. She who walks with wolves at night. With my clan.

The moon greets us all. We greet her. The silver and gold mist parts by her glow. There, in the mirror of dear Moon, the reflection of Us. All.

The reflection of New Earth.

Thank you.

– Cecilia Götherström, dec 21st 2018



Dec 20th, The Promise, Part 20


“Melvinia, come walk with me.” White called me from a distance.

I’d been following a trail of nothingness. Loving the quiet, the soft stacking of the falling snow. Listening to the wind caressing the pines. Inhaling cool, crisp winter air. Following the scent of promise. In the outskirts of the moving pack, somehow intimidated by the inner wolfness I was feeling. The sense of freedom, belonging, power, knowing, of this being my home was so strong I just did not know what to do with it.

“That’s it”, White filled in as she of course was in my mind just like I was in the mind of the whole pack. “You don’t have to do anything with it. You already are it. So, that is what you do. You just are it. Power, freedom, knowing. Always held, always connected, by us, with us, by and with the everything-ness that sometimes feels like nothingness. Space. Space. Space. Freedom to move in that space. To be in that space.”

She stopped.

“Can you see behind us? The gentle tracks we’d all left being snowed away as we take it all in. Look in front of you. No tracks. We leave traces in the past. Some might follow them. We cannot count for their intention, be they in awe or hunters. We can be all that we are in the here and now. In this space. As we are moving through this vastness of woodlands, mountains, waterways, we are freedom. This vastness is in your heart-diamond. You need to care for both.”

She looked me deep in the eyes and continued as the falling snow was getting denser.

“You made a promise once, down at the lake. To heed the call of the wild. To never let this mountainous vastness disappear. Because you are it. We are it. None of us are separate from this – you least of all dear child. By caring for, listening to, howling with the diamond in your heart you are fulfilling that promise. There is no turning back now. You know that. I know that. We are all carrying our heart-diamonds, our promises, through the gateway tomorrow at the full moon. Our song will transform any leftover fragments of fears not removed by Bear Medicine. Our anthem will convert what is left in to gold and amber. To the light which will shine from the New Sun revolving with the New Earth.”

My love. My heart. My soul. My White.

Her words spoke space in my chest, in my throat. Space filling with the song of the Earth coming out from underneath my paws, vibrating through all of us, filling us with the tunes of the Everythingness.

Where was Fox?

– Cecilia Götherström, dec 20th 2018

Dec 19th, The Promise, Part 19


We had travelled through the early morning, followed by the fullnext day after the arrival of all the spirit animals through Fire & Ice. We were well rested after an evening and half a night of quiet comfort tucked in underneath the northern lights. Now the Morning Star was taking over the shift from the North Star. All was sparkly around us – the snow, the sky, the twilight, the breath we all shared. Even the sound of the silence around us seemed to sparkle.

There was a glimmering sparkle around her eyes, around her nose, her whole fur and the crown of all sparkle – that soul spark in her eyes.

Our whole Tribe From All Directions had split up before we took rest.

The Crowned Spirit Bears travelled with the Silver Alves, the Cold Trolls would rather trek with the Samoyed Knights, the Nisse felt more at home navigating with the horses.

We – White Wizard, Jake and myself – travelled alongside the wolves and the Husky Queens. With Raven and Owl taking the lead of course.

As we sat there, White turned towards me, nudging me.

“Remember this is a soul quest. The portal is for your soul, to be opened by your diamond in the heart. We all have our own portals to enter for our own souls along this journey. As one star-diamond in the heart ignites, it lights a flame in the other heart-diamonds of our humongous tribe. Keep writing outside the lines, feel all you are feeling and just welcome the portal. The journey is happening anyway. Your task is to make sure you are travelling with your pack, leaving the outward directions for what they are. HaveTrust. Faith.”

“White”, I replied. “White, that is what you are for me. Trust. Faith. Purpose. Strength. Wisdom. And I want to, I so badly want to, let my heart follow my nose like you. I so desire to feel the wisdom of the Ages, of the Earth, weaving through my system as I walk this journey with paws connecting with All That Is. The way you do.”

“Melvinia, dear”, White drowned me in her presence. “Walk over there. Clear the snow off the surface, look yourself in the mirror of the lake, in the light of the moon.”

I did as she told.

The face looking back at me… Grey fur, yellow eyes, fluffy wintery coat, nose sprinkled with snowsparkle. Grey Wolf. How could this be?

“It is your soul looking back at you”, she motioned. “Look through these eyes the coming days and see what happens. And remember you can only recognize in others what already lives in you.”

The coming days? How close, or how far away, is the portal?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 19th 2018

Dec 13th / The Promise, Part 13


The soft, soft snoring of Fox – inhale, exhale, inspire, expire, wssssss, wsssss – gently woke me up. It wasn´t as much Silent Night, Holy Night as it was Holy Morning. December 13th.

The whole crew was still sleeping.

I lightly curled my fingertips in to Fox´s soft bellyfur, softly brushing her ribcage – her favourite form of bellyrub. Yellow eyes woke up, looked into my soul.
”Let´s go outside”, I whispered. ”Let´s witness the rising of the morning star.”

In one go Fox did a 180 in the air, went from lying on her back to standing on all four paws in a split second, yawned, stretched out. We tiptoed and tippawed towards the opening of this huge ballrom inside the mountain.

The stars were high in the sky, the milkyway at the height of our eyes .

The snow creaked under my feet. Fox`s paws made no sound at all.
”That´s why you people so often stay in 3rd dimension, ” Fox laughed. ”Because you walk so heavy!” She rolled around in the snow, laughing at her own joke till she almost choked.

”Waaaaaah, how I love this bundle of joy, my own little gingerbiscuit, my pepparkaka! ” I yelled out to the universe, laughing along with her.

We rounded the fourth granite giant, heading up the steep part of the glacier. I found myself on hands and feet at times when it got really close to vertical.

Up there the horizon opened up. Covered with distant mountaintops, dark treelines, blistered with millions, billions, trillions of stars glowing like heartdiamonds unobtruded. The morning star, Venus, the brightest, slight pinkish-yellow light waking up as the morning started breaking through.

”I have something for you, ” Fox said. She started digging in the snow, jumping up and down at times to speed the burrowing up. Then she stopped. ”Look!”
I peeked down in to the hole. A black velvet pouch. I laid down on my belly to reach down for it.

”Let me!” Fox nudged me with her nose. She climbed down in what actually looked like it could be her winter den, came back up with the pouch in her jaws, put it down in front of me.

As the sun started rising in the sky I opened the velvety package. My eyes froze as I saw the most exquisite, multifacetted, alivelooking, full of attitude and gentleness rainbow quartz ever.
”It is called ”Fire and Ice”. It holds your promise”, Fox gleamed.

Sankta Lucia, ljusklara hägring.

My heart woke up.

– Cecilia Götherström, 13 December, Lucia, 2018

Dec 11th / The Promise, Part 11



The crustfrozen snow made a sizzling, crackling sound as our skis cut through the thin surface. We had set our course direction Upper Glacier again. The ascent from this side of the lake was said to be a lot easier and less dreary than our long journey across the Lower Glacier.

The Husky Queens, Samoyed Knights and Shiba Pushers had made lunch camp up ahead. The view from up here was magic.

I stopped, shoved my poles in the snow, hung my lovikavantar on them as I took in the magic view over the valley below. The glittery frozen on the banks open in the centre river twirling towards High Lake. The reflection of the dancing shadows the soft, fresh snow made as it was being blown to and fro in the wind as if making music. The pines to one side, the cedar forest on the other. The pack of wolves leading us ahead – a mixture of White´s gracious, ancient tribe and Grey´s somewhat younger Rolling Stones style crowd.

I heard large wings flapping in the air. Who?

I knew Owl had to be up ahead with the wolves, and Raven?

Anytime there was any sort of food or drink to be prepared Raven was sure to be there first of all, I could hear him across the white landscape chattering in lunch camp.

A buzzard hawk almost landed in my face! I saw his eyes as surprised as mine as I was facing his claws on their way to touchdown. I swept my head to the side just in time.

”Jeeeeezessss!”, he settled in the snow next to my skis. ”You´ve got to get some other type of headgear! What you´re wearing looks strikingly like the top of a moss-covered old tree to a slightly sleepy hawk.”

”My apologies, sir”, I removed the beanie I´d recieved from Nisse years earlier. ”You mean this old thing?”

The buzzard nodded.

”It is actually quite nice I see now. Handcrafted by a true NisseMor I see. Not many of those around out in the open any more unfortunately”. He proceeded to fly up and post himself on the lovikavantar at the top of my skipoles.

”I´ve been sent by the matriarch of The Little People. The Nisse, the Vättar, The Moutain Dwarfs and The Silver Alves. It´s not wise to go jump through Ursa Major without the blessings and promises of these tribes, which I am bringing you as their messenger. ”It´s a quest of the soul” are their words.”

A quest of the soul?

Then and there I realized that my soul had started talking to me, as the poem which sprung out of my pen the day before finally made sense to me;

”Candlelight, chestnuts and pinecones

it is just you and me

Comfort, life, breath
Pineneedles, light, sacredness

I stop,
I forget
in a way which makes me re-member

you came from a slope,
which was once me,
specks of atoms, of dust
you grew out of snow
I was


It all just is.
We all just are.

you and me
are just dreams of traditions,
of what is and what is to come
Nothing more.
Nothing less.

You in my livingroom,
I in your forest.

It all blends,
in this moment
who cares?

Let us sing,
let us be the charol.

Have you not always dreamed,
like me,
to be carried out on a chord,
to slide down a tune
echoing in to the wilderness
with nothing to stop you

Who cares?
What cares?

Let us sing with the stars,
soak the light in to our hearts
Like the candles on your branches,
let us shine through the night

I hail thee

My roots are deeper than the mountain
My home is stronger than my heart
My soul echoes through eons

Take my hand,
carry me away

While remaining here,
taking in your light
Oh Christmastree, oh Christmastree
of Odins heart so strong


Oh , holy night.

Åh, helga natt.


– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 11th 2018

Dec 10th / The Promise, Part 10


”Melvinia. Melviniaaaa. Wake uuuuup”, a soft voice was whispering me out of sleep. I openend one eye. Fox was there, next to Jake the yellow necked mouse.

”The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don´t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don´t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don´t go back to sleep.”

”Reciting Rumi as a wakeup call are we?”

They both smiled and nodded vigourously at me as Raven flew in through the opening.

”Awake are we? Pardon the pun!” he croaklaughed so hard he had to make a frontflip not to fall flat on the ground.

I sat up. The smell of coffee and scones cooked over open fire flowed through the door of the kåta, blendend with the scent of a very cold, crisp morning. Yes!!!

The morning sun was working it´s rays across the crusty snow, shining through in on floor clad in pine twigs.

I got out of the sleeping bag, pulled the anorak over my head, got my arctic pants on, laced up my näbbstövlar, popped my head out and took in the fresh air with the longest inhale ever.

Wizard and Grey were immersed a deep conversation regarding the aligment of the stars in December of 1088 as the coffee was boling over on the fire .

”GoodmornigStar Gentlemen”. I could not help myself.

”Top of the morning to you”, Wizard replied faster than a smash from the net during Wimbledon finals. Grey stretched out and yawned.

As I sat there with White Wizard and Grey Wolf, Raven, Fox and Jake, watching the morning star rising as one with the slow moving sun just above the treeline I felt what I can only describe as pure, true joy from inside for the first time in a long, long time.

”You might think that circumstances and the place where you are right now is what makes you feel like this dear child.” Whites voice came not through my mind this time but from behind me. Tears of joy froze instantly on my cheeks as I met her gaze from the pile of snow she´d built . ”It is not. You made a choice. You let go of what was not yours to hold. Of what had been piled on you. Of the conditioning of ”this and that is your duty”. Through that you made a choice to walk through the round open door every time you feel yourself falling. You made an active choice to be happy my child. You did.”

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2018


Dec 9th / The Promise, Part 9


Just a few seconds feel like a long time. Yet time does so not exist here.
I am about to observe what happened lifetimes ago. Nevertheless when I am there it feels like yesterday. For some reason it feels like I already know what I am about to understand.

The village is encircled by rolling lush hillsides and mountaintops capped with summer frost. This is his people.

We met picking poppies in the fields. He just back from the last war. Me leaving the sacred grasses of the lowlands behind. Leaving my people behind. The people of the winds, the seas the hearts and the storms.

Among the mountains I found peace. Wisdom. We lived according to the ancient samurai code, ordained from the times before the emperors. What was to later be called The Tao guided us. We all flowed with it. The entire village. From the outside it might have looked like a hard life up there in the mountains. From the inside we bloomed, the mountain bloomed, all was sacred.


One day he travelled with four of the sons of the village to meet with the people down the river, the Fisherfolks. The five of them never arrived. The five of them never came back. At least not on horseback.

At the time of the funeral pyre it seemed natural to the whole village that ”the she” should suceed as our lives, our practice, our guidance had intertwined and interwoven like one. The Tao told to handle every big matter like it was small, every small matter like it was big. I accepted.

My practice thrived. The village thrived. The children thrived. Yet inside there was a hole growing deeper and stronger. I knew we would meet again, so it was not his energy I was missing. I knew next time I would be the teacher, he needing me.

That day in the poppy field I had made a promise to myself, to fill my true purpose with all my heart and soul. I was there holding ceremony. No matter how much peace, joy and fulfillment the deviation of path right now was gifting to the world around me, this was not the path. It had been the best school ever. I had even more to dive into. I was filled to the brim with gratefulness, but it was time to leave.

How does one leave four young children and a whole village? One doesn´t.

I hear wolves howling. A crying howl , looking for a missing wolfpup. It touches the soul of my bones. I know I have to and that I can let go now. Let go of a promise not mine still and all fulfilled in the Land of The Dragon. Meet The Promise to fulfill in my soul, the cry in the wild.

Arigatou gozaimashita.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 9th 2018

Dec 8th / The Promise, part 8


All of a sudden I felt intensly tired. All the travelling, the journey, the light – or the lack of it – , the long nights. Large spots in my memory had been whiped clean.

”There is really nothing to remember”, I could hear White say through my mind from afar. ”All that exists is here and now. The past is a reflection. The future is a reflection. When you stop, sit down and see then all comes together in this one moment. Magic. Understanding. Alchemy. Morphing. Forgiveness. Release. Letting go. Welcoming in.”

What would I do, where would I be without this wise Wolf Queen of mine?

”Glooooooooooria, in excelcis deeeo”, a childhood memory sang its thread through my mind. A soft breeze touched my cheek. Flying sparkles of gold movning swiftly through the cold evening air. Fairies!

The fae takes many shapes and forms. I knew that from my great grandma´s renderings.

These were gorgeous, glitterly, sweepingly strong as they danced around our shoulders, swirling a path for us out on to the ice.

Dragon was unwinding on the other side of the lake after her ordeal of making sure we got all the signs the Great Mother had wanted us to see. DragonWhite had cleared what she herself called Mirror Patches on the ice. I followed the fairies to one of them. Sat down. Kneeled over the open space while wiping the last dust of snow from the clear, dark surface. Something rolled across I could see in the corner of my eye. Little green stones. Malachites! A memory of a very dear soul sister from the far north. It made me smile inwards. I knew I was at the right spot.

Fox motioned over from the snowcave she´d built herself, sat down next to me, locked my eyes with hers. ”I am here with you all the way Sister”.

Time to let the soul peek in to the depths of the ice on High Lake.

At first it was just greyish. Like heavy rainclouds slowly growing lighter. The deeper my gaze sank the more the clouds opened up. Travelling through a thin veil I saw the Land of the Dragon taking shape below . Cherry blossom on their last day of bloom, petals falling gently to the ground. People gathering under the trees offering them all their love, admiration and connection. Further up ahead,  the mud road passing through the field of cherry trees were leading up the soft hills trailing towards the mountain range which legend here held was holding up the sky. My village from back then was somewhere among those mountains.

In an instant I knew what was about to happen.


  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 8th 2018