Et lys in Crystalis

View from my living room window in Isfjorden. Norway. January 2019.

View from my living room window in Isfjorden. Norway. January 2019.

In Norwegian a candle or light is called “lys”. Thinking in a new language is an incredible gift to experience transformation. I always believed in staying your ground when things are moving too slow or becoming stagnant. I had to persist a painfully long wait for almost everything to settle into Norway. But for the coming week suddenly my schedule has exploded and become jam-packed with commitments and activity. I’m so grateful, for having faith in the kindness of the universe, and for trusting the process because it is always better at teaching us how to be our best selves.

Today I’m walking you outside my home, in beautiful Isfjorden. I know you’re not a puppy, but believe me, this place can make you want to have a cute fluffy coat on with a waggly tail and get all excited about the snow. The most stunning, frothy crystals are falling as I write, piling up a crunchy floor with sparkly sprinkles over branches and bushes. Little yellow 'vinterfugler’ or winter birds are out and about. Finally my Norwegian lessons will begin next week as I wrestle the last days of my grizzly hibernation.

Stepping out the door.

Stepping out the door.

For this season’s reading, I’m enjoying the lovely book by a nature artist Lars Jonsson. His book Vinterfugler is filled with wonderful sketches and watercolour studies of the winter birds all over Norway. It makes a great way to learn both Norwegian and natural history, in a language that belongs to a very different culture if one has arrived here from London. It’s artists like Jonssen, and writers like Lars Mytting (who wrote The Sixteen Trees of the Somme) that have a wonderful way of shedding light upon the creative pursuit of happiness for seekers and lovers of nature and craftsmanship. This season I work simultaneously with 12 oracles, many books, woodwork, yoga and language learning. A fine balance with one more thing….

The driveway outside my home.

The driveway outside my home.

While pondering upon the fresh beginnings that this year is bringing about, I’m mostly silenced by the beauty of this place. What has shown up after an almost brutal self realisation, which my astral readings had even warned me about but could never give me the slightest clue just how real it would be. So here I am walking down the icy roads of the mountain, taking it all in.

Our wonderful landlord doing the daily snow clearing.

Our wonderful landlord doing the daily snow clearing.

A year ago when my husband and I left Oslo, we went through an ordeal before we could finally realise some version of our altruistic longing for community life. Thanks to the Grace of God we’ve not only been welcomed so beautifully by the generous and kind people of Isfjorden, we are learning a lot about opening up too, to become part of the community. That takes a lot of patience from both sides after formalities subside and hard work starts becoming habitual. Love thy neighbour is a wise saying, as it not only gives joy but is extremely rewarding in that it opens up strains we hold towards each other. Helping my landlord shovel the snow every morning is a simple way of saying thank you. And so I’ve decided to stay close to home in making good relations within the neighbourhood for some time. Intuitively I feel there is something great waiting for us. In having this positive outlook at our lives, we strive towards big dreams and a long way to go. From a meditation perspective, this is an approach I like to call Crystalis as I was inspired to illustrate it in my oracle cards in 2015, and this is how it has accompanied me on this particular journey towards manifesting a desire to live in these mountains.

Vinterfugler

Vinterfugler

There it is, little winter bird. Can you find it? Let’s walk silently through a few more pictures and then head back home. Make a pot of tea, light a candle and observe gratitude in silence.

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