A Circle of Wisdom #3: Water Speaks

Water spoke to me. In 2005, standing on my family’s ancestral land in North Carolina and deep in my imagination, I felt the gathering of rocks and plants, moon and water, people and animals. Each had come from ages past to share their wisdom with me.

Rainstorm

I first hear the drops at a distance. A gentle dance of water on leaves. Rain begins to fall from the sky, one puffy white cloud in an otherwise clear expanse. I laugh. For the past week I have been hurrying around trying to avoid the rain in North Carolina. Hurry to put up my tent before the rain starts, hurry to take it down so it stays dry, wait to drive until after the storm passes. I acted as if rain was some sort of enemy. Here, sitting around this council fire, the rain again finds me. This time I relax back and let the drops splash on my warm skin, a welcome relief from the heat.

A voice comes with the splashing of the drops as they land in the clay pot at the edge of our circle. “I am water. Most of this earth is water. You plants and animals are mostly water, just like me. Long, long ago the waters gathered together and splashed on this barren land. From my undulating womb was birthed the beginning of all of life on this small planet. The water that flows through your veins, bathes your tissues, flows over the earth, and falls from the sky is the same water that was present in Life’s birthing. Water that was, water that is, water that always will be.

 In and out of the skies, the oceans and your bodies; I long to be on the move.  Washing, cleansing, bathing, freshening.

Water is one of the primary gifts that brings life on this little planet. My free flowing was intended to wash on everyone, without cost.

In recent years I am being robbed of my gift to the world. Now in too many places I am dirty and dangerous before I even touch the ground. Far too often I am filled with poisons by the time I flow into the river, killing the very life that I am entrusted to surround and nourish. Even in the wildness of the ocean, I too often carry the death of spilled oil, toxins and garbage along my waves. Instead of providing life-giving water I am too often forced to carry contamination. Now many of my raindrops are tears of grief.

In the end, I will survive. If this abuse continues, you humans and many of you plants and animals may die out. 

You have forgotten. How you treat me, waters of the earth and waters of your bodies, is how you treat yourself. How you see me is how you see yourself.  We are not separate. We all flow from the sacred heart to be of service to all of life. All of creation joins my plea to you humans; open your eyes and see anew with gratitude the gift that flows from the beginning to the end. Step into the river, into the living water, as part of the family of life. I want to flow abundantly and again offer life to all.”

Silence returns to the circle, broken only by a short burst before the rain ends. Long after the rain has stopped, drops continue to fall from the forest leaves. The trees know how to relish a good rain for a long time.

This writing is excerpted from “A Circle of Wisdom” that flowed from an experience near my family’s ancestral land in North Carolina and the depths of my imagination. I’ll share parts of the wisdom I “heard”—from water, rocks, plants and animals—in this blog series.

A Circle of Wisdom #2: Rocks Speak

Brenda Wills, photographer
Brenda Wills, photographer

Rocks spoke to me. Standing on my family’s ancestral land in North Carolina in 2006 and deep in my imagination, I felt the gathering of rocks and plants, moon and water, people and animals. Each had come from ages past to share their wisdom with me.

A rock near the fire begins to vibrate and a dull glow shines from within. This rock, a mixture of quartz, sulphur, and basalt, begins to speak, “We remember. Some of us remember the molten lava that spewed liquid rocks from the center of the newborn earth. Others of us hold the memory of the ages pressed into our layers. We have experienced the power of creation and fire at the heart of the world. 

We have seen much and have been deep within this land for billions of years. Some of us are strong, some soft and pliable. Each of us offering what is needed, in function, beauty and healing.

Animals, without knowing it, come to the place where we are resting to receive our healing power. Plants grow in different ways in different places due to our energy from deep within the earth. Humans over the thousands of years have made use of us and been grateful for our varied gifts.”

A strong voice interrupts,  “Gold here. Humans singled me out and have been particularly grateful for me. But this honor too often led to greed rather than respect … with earth breaking results.

 Near here, in Dahlonega, GA, white settlers found me. That was the final impetus to remove the Cherokee from this valuable land.”

Mining by white men’s companies started immediately. In time, mining technology sped up our extraction so money could flow quicker. High-pressure water was turned on the land washing away tons of earth and snapping trees like twigs. The earth was gashed and ripped away as my veins were laid bare. A few men become rich and the rest of us died a little more.

Lust for us declined when oil and gas became valued above all else, including life. Whenever minerals, rocks or crystals are quickly extracted from this earth, the land is slashed and the tailings discarded. The gashes are horrifying.”  The earth beneath my feet shutters with the memory. Gold is silent again.

The rock in our midst continues,  “But the tragedy is that the full gift of us minerals, rocks and crystals is usually overlooked today. We are treated as irrelevant hunks of earth.

It is too often forgotten that we who touch the Earth’s core, streak through the mountains, and lie in wait under the prairies have so much to offer. 

We have been taken and used. We helped a few get rich or build things. Meanwhile the earth lies with her wounds ignored and our healing energy is considered primitive nonsense.

You know and use my quartz in your instruments, but her energetic ability to help support harmony between you humans and the universe is ignored. Many have figured out how to use us for building things but few humans around the world remember how to listen to rocks, crystals and minerals anymore. This forgetting comes just at a point where our memory and our power are most needed by you. 

 Listen.  You are sitting on a firm foundation.  We hold the memory of creation. We can help guide the way and heal you. Listen and receive. It is time to come home to us, the rocks of the earth.”

In a few months, Howard and I are traveling to the Grand Canyon the wild, red rocks of Utah. Something happens to me when I stand on ancient rocks. I can more easily slip out of my mind, and into the now. I hear the wisdom of the rocks that spoke at the Council of Wisdom that gathered in my imagination, the rocks that adorn my writing space and the rocks that hide or loom hight all around the world around me.

This writing is excerpted from “A Circle of Wisdom” that flowed from an experience near my family’s ancestral land in North Carolina and the depths of my imagination. I’ll share parts of the wisdom I “heard”—from water, rocks, plants and animals—in this blog series.