I step into the sunlight. The cold air. Watching the steep mountains, the mist touching the dark forest. It’s been raining for days. Thunder darkened the sky yesterday and it never fails to give me a secret thrill, that sense of power in the air, the thunder gods, stories from my childhood, so very close,
I swear there is a presence in the thunder, in the lightning. Something is drawing very close, almost touching the earth. I would stand in the storm if I could, stand on a hill and watch it approaching, feel the wind in my hair, electricity in the air. If I knew it would be perfectly safe to do so.
I’m not sure what to say today. Sometimes I feel broken open, old things spilling out, things to let go of, but I’m not sure how. I feel my life has become a series of lessons that I need to learn, to understand. Maybe it’s like that for everyone? I’m trying to interpret the messages in my dreams, in my daily life. I’m squinting at words taking shape on a page, trying to understand, to bring them into my heart.
I got up so early this morning. Even before the first light. I stared at nothing for a while, wondering what to do. Wondering what has woken me. And then I got up, pulled on a warm robe and lit a candle in the other room. I prayed and listened and tried to be calm. There is a silence reaching to the edge of the world at that hour, before dawn, before breaking, a silence I can draw into my heart, like soft, dark tendrils. Like velvet smoke.
I sang a mantra, and as I did I opened my eyes and watched the flickering candle, the statue of the Goddess Freya behind it. Her shadow shone onto the white wall behind her, a greater Goddess rising up, showing herself through darkness and fire.
This is the time of darkness, of the warrior Goddess, of shadow and flame. The Equinox is approaching. Will you celebrate it?
Sharing this video because it reminds me of magic, of home. Of the cold north and mists on lakes, and strange things moving beyond our sight. Jonna Jinton also shared how she stood among thick mists one midsummer night, hearing many voices that soon faded into nothing…
I went for a swim, in the black lake, under a golden pink sky, the sun already hidden behind the mountains.
I was frustrated, a little upset, and I felt I needed the water, that I belong in the water, and I went for my first swim this year, quietly moving through the silky black waves, wanting to empty myself from all thought and feelings, wanting to find some peace.
Standing on the rocks I hesitated, the darkness in the water frightening me. There is no light in the lake, and going below the surface I can see nothing, and I have a fear of something grabbing me, pulling me under. I don’t trust I am safe. I always think something terrible might happen, and yet standing on the rocks I felt the presence of the Goddess, and I softened a little, not feeling I needed to be so hard inside. Something told me to just wade into the water, to not hesitate, not fear the cold, and I did, more or less. I walked into it without waiting, and fell into a swim, happily moving towards that golden sky.
I spoke with my landlord today, and he said they they’re improving the road this fall, though they’ve said that many times before. I asked about the large oak tree, and he said it would be cut down, and the old birch as well. It made me shiver, made me sad. I said I loved those trees, that I thought them beautiful. He didn’t respond, and I remembered why I don’t speak about such things, that those thoughts are rarely shared by other people.
What I didn’t say was that I talk to that oak tree, that I touch it when I pass it, and that it answers me. It has a voice of its own, a language we all speak when we listen, with our hearts, and stop fearing silence.
Sometimes I want to be more like a tree, sure of myself, stable and strong in all kinds of weather, standing in quiet peace. Sometimes I feel those things when I touch it. It reminds me to be strong.
That tree is older than all of us, and this fall they want to cut it down to make room for a bigger road. They don’t know that it has wisdom to share, is alive, can teach us things. I guess all of that doesn’t matter when we want to get somewhere faster, safer.
And I love the big beautiful birch, that I can see from my window, that is brimming with light and air magic, and that it has stars in its branches at night.
A dear friend made a comment once, about being in Germany and admiring the trees there, with their large trunks and wide branches, and I thought yes yes, I feel that too.
But usually sharing such things makes me feel naive, sentimental, a dreamer. Of course we need a better, straighter roads, but I wish there was another way. I wish beauty had a greater value.
I thought of all the noise that will fill this place when they come with all their machines to work, and I felt that I’m leaving. My spirit has been saying it for some time now, ever since I returned from France, like my time here is up. Maybe the ocean is calling me.
It made me think of how things change, when we think they will stay the same, because they usually do, day after day. But one day something happens, something changes. It can be in smaller, or more dramatic ways. Like me coming back to Norway. Like the forest that was cut down one day, that I had been visiting since I was a child. Our apartment being filled with smoke one night when our neighbor set his house on fire, forcing us to move. I remember that night so well, how we were awakened by noise, and rushed outside to check, seeing the frozen night full of fire, black smoke under the stars.
And then there was the beautiful lilac bush I loved, that was one day gone, cut down, a large brown wound in its place. I’m sure there was a reason for it, but I keep wondering if they knew what they were doing, if they knew the beauty that was destroyed. If they had ever seen it, smelled it, heard the sound of bees on warm summer days, heavy with perfume. Whenever I walk past that spot I feel sad. I love lilacs, and they would be flowering around this time.
I watch The Lord of The Rings and think that we should build our houses like the elves, around the trees, in harmony with nature, not cut things down. I’m not even sure it would be possible, but I like to dream it, how things could be.
The last day of the year, and I managed to get up early, to be in quiet stillness, alone, just me and my divine mother. Listening.
I have my green tea and dark chocolate, and I gaze into the darkness of winter.
I’ve been away to a beautiful place in Greece, staying with friends, seeing the sun and blue sky, the vastness of the ocean and beauty of trees full of lemons and oranges. It’s amazing that such a place exists, where you can reach up and pick ripe fruit in the depth of winter.
Coming back we were met with snow, glittering on frozen trees, and as my husband drove I kept gazing up at the sky, at the moon and stars, amazed by the many different kinds of beauty of different places.
The sky is brightening now, the world a deep blue. Coming back from sun and mild weather, I can appreciate the fairy like quality of snow, the pureness of a white ground and trees, everything quiet, the icy rain sounding like crystals falling as I walk in the forest, the evening darkening, the clouds rolling across the sky, across a bright yellow moon.
I remember one winter when still living in California, I visited Norway, this quiet place where my family lives, when there are no sounds except those of nature, and the snow was unusual deep and heavy, the trees all white and bending from the weight of it. The sky was dark and brilliant, full of stars, and as we walked I couldn’t understand why the others didn’t look up, didn’t marvel at that incredible beauty above us. Perhaps they had grown used to it, but coming from the city I couldn’t get enough of it. I breathed it all in, the air cold and crips, fresh, the stillness touching my skin and every day I went for long walks, feeling something starting to heal within me, slowly, slowly, through the touch of nature.
I eventually returned to California, which was always a shock to the system. Life was faster paced there, though I loved it as well; the sun, the warmth, the colors, the fragrant jasmine dripping over fences. It was the city that wore on me, and I prayed to be taken back to nature. I had never fully appreciated it growing up, not having known any other way of life than being surrounded by mountains, forest, the ocean within view. As a young girl I would spend hours outside after dark, gathering rocks for my stone collection, gazing up at the stars, meeting a hedgehog, and knowing that the warmth of home was only steps away.
Now I once again live in the countryside of Norway, and I’m not sure I can ever return to living in the city. I like to visit, to go to a cafe, get some shopping done, do some people watching, and then return to my trees, and mountains, and the quiet whispers of the wind.
New Years Eve
New Years Eve was always special to me, not quite as loved as Christmas, but still very much enjoyed with good food and anticipation for what would happen around midnight. When my sister and I were little we would get too tired to stay up past 9, and had to go to bed, knowing our parents would wake us up in time for the fireworks.
We stood outside on the verandah, in the cold and snow, watching the sky come alive with colors and noise, and we would call out saying good bye old year, good bye! And I thought I could see it smile and disappear beyond the mountains.
Wishing you the best for the new year
On my table there are white tulips. White for fresh beginnings, for purity, for the new year.
I wish you the very best for the coming year. I wish you hope, light, joy and a knowing that you’re loved, that you’re never alone in facing whatever comes your way.
What lessons have you learned this year? How was your holiday season? I would love to know. Blessed be.
I’ve created a Facebook page for this site. It’s taken me a while to get around to this. I’m not sure why, but it brings up a touch of anxiety in me, and takes me out of my comfort zone to be fully on Facebook. Perhaps it’s letting myself be seen that scares me.
Anyway, I plan to update it regularly with whatever moves and inspires me, and share beauty wherever I find it. If it sounds good to you, and you like what you read here, please like and follow it. I would love to see you there!
Today the ocean was all silver, and I sat looking at it for a long time, even though I felt cold.
The waves were gentle, and there were birds playing in the water, in that glittering light, and I felt sudden joy, as though that light was also in me.
Looking up I saw a flock of black birds flying through the air, cawing, one one them landing on the beach in front of me. I always think of magic when I see and hear crows, the dark season, light fading into night.
I read a bit on my kindle and looked back up at that world of silver, the sun in my eyes. The air felt biting against my skin, and I remembered the white frost that had greeted me in the morning. Winter had come for sure, though there was no snow, not yet.
I love the silence, the muted colors of this time of year. I even love the fading light, the deepening darkness, the approach of Christmas. This time of year it feels like the whole world is listening, dreaming, asleep.