Find your natural self
Sleeping under the starry sky,
Sitting on the ground around the fire,
honest communication and being reflected back to you,
Creating from the heart.
We live in a time where we control the Earth and our own nature to such an extent that we can forget we are part of this cosmos. We have "elevated" ourselves and, in doing so, have almost forgotten our connection to the Earth. Through the experience of separation, we lose access to the magic of life. We own land instead of tending it. We no longer understand plants and animals as beings, but as products. And we often see all the people around us as a destructive force on this Earth. We lose understanding and compassion. And ultimately, self-love.
And yet – the longing remains. The longing for untouched nature. The longing for belonging to a group/tribe. The longing for the "simple life". It remains and reminds us of our belonging to this earth, this cosmos.
With nelfea, I want to make a statement. We are not separate from nature – but part of it. I want to remind people of our interconnectedness and be a bridge for as many people as possible to remember.
Price range
Let's talk about money!
My prices are set so that I can live a life of abundance and contentment. I'm worth it. And I want to make my services affordable for everyone who feels called to come to me. Therefore, it's a great pleasure for me when we discuss money at the beginning of our collaboration and find a payment plan that allows us both to create together in a relaxed and joyful way.
With nelfea, I would like to invite you to ask your life questions in the mirror of nature and to unearth your stories together with me, to honor them like treasures and to filter out the essences.
In the mirror of nature
The fox in the field, patiently lying in wait.
The falcon, which lets itself be carried by the air currents.
The large fir tree, in whose roots you can find shelter.
The mountain stream that almost sweeps you away.
The mountains, the forest, the sun, the moon, and the stars.
All these encounters can provide an answer to a question we carry within us. Suddenly, instead of the fox, we see ourselves and realize how remarkably good we are at waiting until the time is right. The fir tree reminds us of the feeling of security we get when we are in the place that holds our roots. The mountain stream calls out to us that the river of life flows ever onward, and the falcon asks how easily we move through life.
Every time we venture into nature and ask it our questions, it gives us a story. Sometimes it's as quiet as a gentle summer breeze. Sometimes it's as unexpected as an encounter with a snake or a wolf. And other times, we feel lost, as if in a dense forest.
The name of a fairy
How Nelfea got her name
Once upon a time, and it wasn't in a time when the world was still full of magic, a fairy lived in a wild mountain forest. She was as stormy as the wind, as wild as the stream that rushes down the slopes, as delicate as the wildflowers in the mossy bed, as curious as the fox, and as shy as the deer. She was rooted in this place like the great old beeches and firs around her, and she was connected to the soul of the mountain and the forest.
She lived in a cave beneath an old beech tree. This beech tree was the fairy's mother. And she was a wise woman. People came from far and wide to ask her for advice. Over the years, the fairy listened to the many questions and longings of mountain and valley. The beech tree never answered in a single sentence, but instead told the questioners stories about life. And the fairy sat attentively, learning much about life and its great questions, and that those who ask can only find the answers within themselves.
And then came the day when a question began to grow within the fairy. What is my name? She asked her mother, who always gave her a story. But the beech tree only rustled its leaves gently, stroked the fairy's hair, and spoke with a smile in its voice: "Dear fairy child, I will not tell you the story of your name. Find the story and then come back and tell it to me." And the fairy felt that it was time to leave her safe home and her mother and search for her name.
To the summit with the wild horde
But where should she begin? "I want to tell the story of a courageous heroine," she thought. "I want to be where no one has ever been before." And so she climbed steeply up the mountains. There, where the water rushed wildly down the slopes and the trees clung to the sheer cliffs. Only the toughest of creatures could survive there, and so it wasn't long before the fairy changed. She moved powerfully and, with a proud, upright gait, defied the wind that drove the clouds through the mountains. Her hair danced around her like fire, and a wild gleam shone in her eyes. She whooped with exuberant joy at her strength and her courage.
The wild fellows who roamed the land heard this. They came galloping up in a wild ride and their eyes widened when they saw the fairy. "What are you doing up here all alone?" they asked, and she replied proudly, "Shall I tell you my story? I am a heroine. I go to places where no living creature has gone before. No bird can reach the places I will conquer." And the wild fellows marveled, and they now wanted to go wherever the fairy would lead them. She was delighted by the wild horde that accompanied her, and they rose ever higher toward the sky. It grew colder and colder. And some of the fellows lost their courage. The fairy urged them onward and warmed them with her story. Her great longing repeatedly ignited a spark in the weary horde and rekindled the fire that drove them onward. But the fairy also felt the responsibility she had taken on. She became afraid and doubtful, wondering if her story was too big for her name.
One day they reached a summit so high it almost touched the sun. Suddenly, a fierce blizzard engulfed the group. The peak trembled under the force of the storm, and the weakened group was swept away in all directions. The fairy screamed in despair and fear for her companions. So preoccupied was she with worry for the others that she didn't even notice when she, too, was caught and carried off. First she flew, then she fell, and finally, in her fading consciousness, she only felt herself tumble over the waterfall and be carried by the icy, raging water toward the valley below.
Underwater
When she awoke, she didn't know if she was alive, for she was still underwater. Something held her tightly, and she couldn't reach the surface, no matter how hard she tried. She was alone. Around her, only dark, wet depths. She couldn't see what was holding her. The loneliness and darkness around her made her fully aware of the extent of her actions. She was responsible for the death of the savage horde. Driven by her megalomaniacal story, they had recklessly followed her to her death. She screamed at the thought with shame. She tried to break free from the invisible bonds, tried to escape the darkness and the loneliness. But hour after hour, she saw the horrific scenes before her eyes. She heard the terrified screams of her companions. She heard herself boasting about her own story as a heroine. A heroine she had wanted to be. And that was what had killed her friends. She screamed and raged, trying to free herself from this torment. The water around her grew colder, and she felt her skin crack. She felt her hair dissolve in the water and sink into the endless depths, and she herself grew weaker and weaker.
Weakness brought the gift of tears. She wept for her friends. She wept out her guilt and realized that she had never willingly assumed responsibility for other beings. She wept with shame and realized that she had tried to find a story instead of her name. She wept because she felt so alone, as if she were a solitary star who could never meet other stars. She wept because with every step upward, she had forgotten that her roots lay deep in the forest, among the lichen. She wept because she was homeless and nameless. She felt her skin peel away in scales, layer upon layer, until her heart lay exposed. It was surrounded by a soft golden shimmer and beat in its vibrant magenta to the rhythm of her life. The fairy grew calm to the leisurely drumming of her heart. And to this rhythm, her own, she suddenly broke free from her bonds and ascended. The waves of the lake, where she had fought her battle, cradled her gently. And then a longing grew within her to surrender to life as gently as she was surrendering to the water at this moment. What need did she have for a name? What desire did she have for a story? She would listen to life itself, and it would teach her what she needed to know. The waves held her until she could feel the earth on the lake's shore. And the fairy slept.
In devotion to life
She awoke to the sniff of a cool, wet muzzle. When she opened her eyes, they met the sharp green eyes of a wolf. And she felt deep within that this wolf would be her companion. She reached out with her translucent hand to grasp the beautiful animal. But the wolf growled menacingly. And fixed her with such a stern gaze that the fairy stopped, confused and frightened.
"I belong to you," she said tenderly. He looked down at her for a moment longer, then leaped away in great, powerful bounds. She wept. If she had felt alone in the world before, now she felt profoundly lonely. Life had given her her companion, and he didn't want her. Grief shook her delicate body, and she knew she needed to nourish herself to survive. And she felt her deep affirmation of life. And she ran.