Posts Tagged ‘Healing of the Waters’

Gratitude, Flow and a Water Prayer

In these days leading up to Thanksgiving, I just want to take a few moments to express gratitude for my amazing readers, clients, friends and family who engage with me in life, sessions and through this blog. I lead a truly blessed life that at the end of a back-to-back session day, I feel so privileged to know so many incredibly sensitive, powerful, magical, loving and astute people out there.

Thank you from the depths of my overflowing heart for being here now.

Thank you for showing up, and thank you for putting your own love and energy back into the world, even when — especially when — that world seems topsy turvy, scary, wild and unpredictable. And thank you for having the courage to withdraw back into your Self, to fill your own well, allowing your own healing through the waters to and from their Source.

And now, a prayer:


May we each flow with the Mighty Element of Water.

May the Undines, Mer People, Dolphins and the Swimming Ones

Join with us as we join and flow with them.


May the Mighty Element of Water protect and honor

The Water Protectors at Standing Rock.

May the Mighty Element of Water reclaim Her Sovereignty:

Never again allowing Herself to be forced into abuse.


May water cannons reverse upon those intending harm,

Blast away the corporate fascism

And generational brainwashing.


May the Mighty Element of Water cleanse all hatred, fear and greed.

May this cleansing purify and irrigate the hearts

Of any souls so parched that they only know The Wasteland.


May the Grail pour Awen upon the crowns of all involved.

May inspiration and understanding fill their eyes

Like Salmon of Wisdom leaping against the current

Into Destiny.


May the Tides of Change relieve any droughts

And nourish hill and dale, and field and tree.

May the Crystalline Grid support the rivers and streams

That lead to Great Lakes and the Pulsing Ocean.


May the Mighty Element of Water

Re-member Her Way as we ride Her Waves.

Indiana: The Wasteland and The Grail

This past weekend, David and I took a mini-getaway for his birthday. Our ultimate destination was Turkey Run State Park in West Central Indiana, but we decided to go via Lafayette, home of Purdue University — mostly because it afforded the most gluten-free, organic and/or vegan dining options. I had read that Lafayette and West Lafayette have the highest density population of anywhere in Indiana, so we prepared ourselves for hustle bustle, despite our intention to relax and go with the flow.

After years of caring for David’s parents and more recently my own, this was our first non-family, non-must-do-event getaway in as long as we can remember. No plans other than a 6:45 dinner reservation at Restauration and prepaid hotels in Lafayette on Saturday and at Turkey Run Inn on Sunday. Imagine our surprise when we arrived in Lafayette to find it almost completely deserted. Purdue must be out of session, because we saw hardly any students and even fewer adults. We actually referenced the Twilight Zone on several occasions, because the streets were that empty!

We checked into the Baymont and received an immediate upgrade to a corner room with a king bed. We had stocked up our cooler for the rest of the trip at the Mishawaka Whole Foods (which David helped open in 2013) and planned to wander around Lafayette art galleries and quaint shops, but we found most of them closed. With unexpected time before our dinner reservation, we headed over to Clegg Botanical Gardens, just outside of town. Reviews warned that it was more of a “nature trail” than a formal European garden, but that suited us just fine. The hills and dramatic views of Wildcat Creek cleared our heads and made me smile. Although we only spent about 20 minutes on steep steps and a winding trail, we felt the industrial views and dilapidated buildings of our trip there — and daily life in Goshen — fade away. I felt water begin to pour into my soul.

When we arrived back in Lafayette a mere 45 minutes later, the city suddenly seemed fully inhabited! Nary a parking space anywhere. All the restaurants were full, and we needed to tap our parking angel connections to make our reservation on time. More Twilight Zone jokes: when did they all land? As became a theme on this getaway, we got seated in the furthest away corner table, snugly tucked into our own universe. We enjoyed the food — mostly local, mostly organic/heirloom, with numerous vegan and gluten-free options, organic hard cider, and homemade bread from Einkorn wheat. It didn’t knock-our-socks-off, but we didn’t care. As we decompressed over dinner, we realized just how difficult the past three years have been for both of us, and we realized that we have made it through. We can feel the restoration after a very long time in the Wasteland.

I mentioned to David how many synchronicities I’ve had lately surrounding the Grail story. It seems everything that crosses my path somehow references the tale in new, deeply resonant ways. Sharon Blackie’s book, “If Woman Rose Rooted,” explores this ancient Celtic story in both its sanitized and Christianized forms, as well as its wilder forms — recognizing the Wasteland of what humanity has done to our Earth and our responsibility (and ability) to re-enchant the world. I highly recommend this book for both men and women, btw, since it reveals how the sacred masculine needs the divine feminine principle in order to return to its own balance. Sharon’s book interweaves her own story with that of many inspiring and deeply rooted women. Various iterations of the Grail story punctuate the cloth like repeating jeweled colors and patterns of a rich tapestry.

In any case, I fell asleep on Saturday night after reading another Celtic retelling of the Grail with women as its sacred protectors … and with its mythological connection between abusive, disrespectful patriarchal leadership and barren land. So often when I look upon the once tree covered Indiana, my heart and soul weep for this very same situation. Our world faces so many ecological crises, but the flat, industrialized, blight ridden, grey, dilapidated, toxic and ugly assault me whenever I leave my faery haven cocoon. Fortunately, the restoration of our Land continues, inspired by the complete contrast and a sense of urgency that I feel bubbling up not only from my soul but from the Land itself.

Because we live in a beautiful little house, with a beautiful and colorful magical office house next door and beautiful, lush, abundant gardens everywhere around and in between, I tend to lose sight of what I’ve done in three years. Only when I leave this sacred, healing spot does the harshness of Northern Indiana yank the magic carpet from beneath my soul until I remember that I’m the one who flies. I’m the one restoring this land, nurturing perennials, bulbs and fruit trees, planting native wildflowers, and designing sacred”rooms” inside and out.

Our drive to and around Lafayette reminded me, yes, of what feels so offensive to the inner artist in me, but it also registered possibilities. As we drove through neighborhood after gardenless, unlandscaped neighborhood, I began seeing gardens everywhere. “Do you realize how beautiful this world could be, David?! Do you realize how much food we could grow and how lovely it would all become?” When he mentioned poverty of both pocketbook and spirit, I wondered aloud, “Yes, but what if those come from a lack of imagination, a lack of vision? What if planting flowers and throwing colorful paint on old buildings could charm the poverty away? What if getting hands in the dirt really did heal depression like scientific studies continue to show?” Re-enchantment.

The next day we drove the hour to Turkey Run State Park. It was too rainy to go to the reportedly quieter Shades State Park, since that one can become treacherous in wet weather, so we got to Turkey Run Inn early. Once again, we found our room ready and tucked away in a quiet corner. My friend Dana from The Druid’s Garden had told me months ago that she had experienced one of the most sacred spots on Earth ever — not just in Indiana — at Turkey Run, and my soul hungered to feel in real life (not just my imagination) that deep, restorative healing it craved from Nature.

Despite all my gardening –and in all our travels I discovered that I actually have the most extensive garden I’ve seen for hundreds of miles and many towns in multiple states– I frequently feel starved for Nature in Northern Indiana. Instead of receiving from the Earth as I have in so many of my homes, with few exceptions, Goshen feels like everything I enjoy here, I made or co-created myself, usually through passionately love-filled vision and hard work. People appreciate the effort, but I knew I needed to replenish all the energy going out of me since we moved here in November 2 012. For months, I’ve anticipated this trip, expecting to feel cleansed by Nature’s holiness.

And quiet.

We arrived on Mother’s Day, which was maybe not the best planning, but synchronously, this experience triggered massive downloads and focus, so no mistake. When we began our hike, I immediately noticed the crowds. I don’t do crowds, so they seemed even larger than they probably were. At first, I assumed my ears deceived me about the volume of noise. “Don’t be so picky, Laura, that’s just a bird squawking in the distance. Nature’s not silent. Try to enjoy all Her creatures.” As we continued our walk, though, I found that in fact, those squawks were not birds, but children. Shrieking, yelling, rambunctious kids.

Again, I tried to talk myself out of my sense impressions. “Laura, it’s Mother’s Day. They’ve chosen to celebrate by bringing their kids in Nature. Chill out.” As the volume increased, we stopped at a sign describing how Turkey Run exists as a preservation of life on Earth 20,000 years ago. Microclimates offer enormous diversity in such a small area of land, and this spot stands alone outside the rest of the similar areas in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan. David lovingly calls Turkey Run, “The Indiana Dells.”

The sign’s reverence for the unique and sacred aspects of this park warmed my heart. Instead of simply saying, “Stay on the trails,” the sign explained how “the greatest threat to this 20,000 year old preservation is you,” going on to note how park visitors’ actions can change the delicate balance required to maintain this Land. In addition to not trampling delicate flora, signs carefully explained all sticks should be left in place to decompose and add to the soil’s fertility.

With that in mind, we turned a curve to find the source of much of the squawking. Pre-teen boys covered in mud ran recklessly around a bridge and stream. They had huge sticks and smashed them — loudly and aggressively — in the water, while their father egged them on. Passersby with children allowed their own children to join the fray, climbing boulders and shouting from the top, splashing mud on themselves and others, yelling to each other from dozens of yards away or up close. Volume had nothing to do with proximity. I covered my ears and tried to identify one set of parents to connect with to begin to turn the tide, but the volume continued to rise and rise until my head began to spin.

“This is worse than a Walmart,” I said to David.

“The irony,” he said, “if that no one would act like this in Walmart.”

“It’s like screaming in a cathedral,”I whispered — outraged, as I knew we just happened to be standing right in the most sacred spot that Dana had mentioned. It looked truly magical. How could these children and their parents be so oblivious to the wonder here?!

“I didn’t come all this way to experience a Chuck E. Cheese or bumper car birthday party.”

“It’s Mother’s Day,” said David, hopping off to take some photos.

Turkey Run 2Turkey Run 3Turkey Run

I continued covering my ears, because the sounds of the yelling echoed in the canyon walls, amplifying each voice as more families began to arrive and thoughtlessly smash sticks on the rocks and water. It was the first Mother’s Day I’ve ever pondered the virtues of population control and plagues, and doing so felt as horrible as the shattered dream of sitting near a waterfall or spring and just communing with our real Mother … Mama Earth. Seriously, how could so many people come to such a gorgeous, sacred place and desecrate it? I’m usually so optimistic about humanity’s ability to turn things around, but I began having serious doubts on Sunday.

Thankfully, David insisted we keep walking, even when that walk turned to the “rugged” portion of the trail. I was so frazzled from the shouting that I did not trust my balance on a slippery, narrow rock ledge covered with moss, but my Taurus David had set his mind on reaching “The Punch Bowl.” I could either remain at the bottleneck of screaming, splashing pre-teens, or I could slip and slide my way through to the next phase. I used to rock climb, and those skills returned as the waterfall’s roar covered the human shouts.

David planned to turn around after “The Punch Bowl,” but I told him I could not face returning to that bedlam. My soul needed quiet, and as we began to get a little bit, my prayers became more focused. “Please, please, please, lead us somewhere peaceful and restorative.”

David went down to the Punch Bowl, and I climbed up a path to sit at the top of the waterfall he wanted to photograph. While there, the water washed away my earlier frustration and soothed the raw nerves. A warbler began to chirp on a nearby tree, and from the spring that fed the waterfall, I felt a strong Mother presence holding space for me, as my soul unwound. Un-twined, but also unwound as in un-wounded, un-hurt itself. I felt my soul heal by those holy waters.

Having passed the slippery threshold, we agreed to walk this longer, more rugged path in order to experience the quiet restoration we came here to receive. The rest of the journey did not disappoint, and several historical markers along the way revealed that the horror, outrage and sorrow I felt at desecrating the sacred actually helped to birth this park and the entire Indiana State Parks System. I found communion with the humans who recognized the beauty and power of this place and who did something to preserve it. Perhaps I will tell that story in depth another time, as this post grows long, but suffice to say, the people who created and maintain Turkey Run State Park are deeply reverent, soulful beings who honor the Waters and the Land. I felt humbled and inspired.

We returned to our room for a snack and lazy afternoon nap, then wandered out to Sunset Point at day’s end. I expected to find a crowd there, too, but David and I found ourselves alone with the woods, taking a magical walk at twilight.

After our cooler saved dinner, we talked and read in bed for awhile, both feeling freshly washed by our day outside. I continued to read “If Women Rose Rooted” and came upon the Breton version of Arthurian legends and the Grail. I have a special connection to Brocéliande due to a faery who visited our yard in 2014 and helped with the landscape design (its own long story!). In any case, I again fell asleep thinking and dreaming of the Grail. The next morning I realized I was a day behind in Celtic Spirit: Daily Meditations for the Turning of the Year. As usual, the delay proved synchronous, since May 8 just happened to discuss not only the Grail but ways in which we can ask for the Grail to help restore whatever exists as a Wasteland in our lives or communities. Sharon Blackie had just been urging a similar process in “If Women Rose Rooted.”

Grail Celtic Meditation

I immediately presented my own need for healing as it relates to healing our Land in Goshen, and then Indiana at large. This state once housed the most magnificent trees! If not for people like state parks creator Richard Lieber and writer and activist Juliet Strauss, the rest of Indiana might have fallen to the timber companies devouring everything in sight. If not for those of us in Goshen loving the Land, planting trees, supporting the farmers market and creating and supporting the Arts, Goshen would not be bubbling forth with new, fresh waters of life. If not for people doing similar things in other spots, our entire Earth would turn into corporate cookie cutter buildings, ravaged land and poisoned wells.

But people do care. In lots of places. Some places need more care than others, and Indiana is such a place. Six months of dreams called me to Northern Indiana from Northern California. It has been difficult, and I came by way of Chicago’s Lake Michigan and Madison, WI. But I did come, and I did plant and root and grow. Others have preserved. I sent out my prayer yesterday for the Grail to pour its healing waters on the Wastelands of Indiana. As soon as I finished my prayer, I drew a card from Wild Wisdom of the Faery Oracle Deck and placed it on the Indiana blanket where I happened to be sitting upon the bed:

Grail Faery

The Grail Faery!

Just then, David returned from a little photo jaunt outside to snap pictures of a statue in honor of Juliet Strauss:

Subjugation close up

Indeed, the Grail is present within the Wasteland, pouring healing waters upon the Land. May we each do our part to restore and re-enchant the Mother we all share.





World Water Day ~ Sacred Ceremony Today and Beyond

Thanks to Ella, who sent me the following announcement about today’s kickoff to a worldwide movement to remember the sacredness of water. At 3 p.m. local time on 3/22/14, wherever you are, please take a moment to honor, heal, love, and respect our water. There is one world ocean.

I would have posted the information anyway, but Ella’s email arrived at the exact moment I was listening to a Hopi Elder (video further down below) explain that if the Europeans who arrived after Christopher Columbus had continued to approach water the way the Hopi did, then we would still be able to drink from every stream or lake. “Water is sacred,” he said. Because this event springs from a Native tribe in New Zealand, I sent the link to my Kiwi friend, Wendy, who immediately responded that “Grandfather Macki,” whom she studied with, was of the Waitaha tribe. I then received another notification of this water healing event through Cheryl, who had been commenting on Raven’s post about healing and protecting the waters near Glacier National Park.

Triple whammy synchronicities!

On the 22nd of March, on World Water Day, we will officially open the calling and start a journey leading upto this Global Water Gathering in New Zealand. We hope you will support our efforts and be with us in prayer as this unique event has neverbefore occurred on Earth.

“We are in all this together and may you find your connection and deepening to Water this year also.

“We thank you, all our Ambassadors and all our Partners for their support in helping us make this happen.”

“Water Unifies us All. On March 22nd, Join the world in the Synchronized Global Water Ceremony. At 3:00pm in your local time and 3:00pm pacific. UNIFYing with the world to restore our relationship with this sacred medium of life.

“No Water, No Life. Know Water, Know Life.

“ is a platform create to support the emergence of the Spiritual Renaissance happening on the planet.

“LoveWater is a year long campaign that will transform our specie’s relationship to water in every way possible.

“Join us as we catalyze a global movement of beauty, love and truth.”

I especially love this video narrated by a girl whose name means “Special Waters”:

Here is the Hopi Elder video I was watching when the email announcement of today’s event came through:

Please remember our sacred water at 3 p.m. your local time. As “Special Waters” recommends in her video: pray for solutions, for clean water, new ideas, joy, hope, healing of pollution and radiation, pray for those who can help, and pray with gratitude for all that water gives us.

Frost Faeries in Goshen

Inspired by Raven’s winter journey to heal and protect the waters, I took my own little jaunt to the woods yesterday afternoon. Armed with a Tibetan quartz crystal from Karen Lang of Lemurian Stargate, I set out to gift the waters with some extra gratitude and blessings. Karen has visited the waters in Goshen and regularly does healing and portal work at Lake Tahoe, so her crystal seemed appropriate for this gift. I also had some help from this Fae (don’t let her apparent small size fool you … she’s a powerhouse!):


Goshen Woods

Goshen woods February 17


Raven Moss ~ Along a Crystal River

Today we have a wonderful guest blog post by Raven Moss, who has graciously shared some of her experiences protecting the waters near Glacier National Park. I trust you will enjoy her photos and synchronous story as she inspires each of us to listen and make a difference wherever we are.

Along a Crystal River

By Raven Moss

“Choosing to save a river is more often an act of passion than of careful calculation. You make the choice because the river has touched your life in an intimate and irreversible way, because you are unwilling to accept its loss.”

~David Bolling, How to Save a River: Handbook for Citizen Action

Another North Fork view

It is such a magical time to be alive, to discover we are the change we were waiting for, and that all our past lives, skills, passions and desires are lined up and waiting for us to engage them in service. Many lightworkers believe the phrase “service to others” implies service to people, but “others” can also be animals, plants, mountains, rivers, oceans and Gaia herself. We are all healers in some fashion, even if we only came here to heal our own soul; that alone lifts us all. I am a gridworker by trade, serving Gaia in many capacities for many years in different ways and places, and for my dedication she showers my life with such unparalleled beauty that words fall away when I try to describe her. So when she called me once again to her service, I was honored and humbled. I knew there would be new lessons and skills to learn, there always are.

My latest mission came through Laura on a life path reading she did for me last month. I am a shaman and have plenty of contact with the spirit world, but in this instance I felt the need for some clarification and confirmation from Laura’s intuition and her deep relationship with the Fae. During my reading she asked me if I had water nearby. Ha! I’m only surrounded by hundreds of lakes and rivers, ponds, streams, waterfalls, glaciers, bogs, springs and marshes fed by snow, rain, sleet, hail, graupel, cloudveil, fog, mist, sleet and ice. It all comes from Gaia, it falls on these mountain ranges and valleys in raucous profusion, and flows to the sea right under my nose. Water is my life, it is the giver of all life… it’s what life is all about, Alfie said so.

Laura told me the water spirits were worried, that they needed my help, and that I was to make a crystal grid of protection for all the water draining from the western slope of the Continental Divide. Ha! No problem! No job is too big for Super Shaman!

Raven Moss: "It's all about the water."

Raven Moss: “It’s all about the water.”

Water begins its journey in a pristine state, distilled into clouds by Gaia. I don’t want to get into the downer topic of chemtrails and pollution here; if we are to effectively aid and protect Gaia during this time of ascension, then concepts like “impossible,” “hopeless” or “a waste of time” would render the whole thing moot. The power of intention is all that matters in these matters, the Fae say it is so.

I live on the edge of Glacier National Park, Montana, a short eagle hop from the North Fork River, which is the pathway all water takes from the Northern Rocky Range, all the way into Canada. The North Fork forms the western border of Glacier and meets up with the Middle Fork, which forms the park’s eastern border, at a confluence a short distance from my house, before it continues its winding way to the Flathead Lake, the largest natural body of fresh water west of the Divide. Into those two great rivers flow snowmelt, glacial melt and rain from the Pacific Northwest via streams, springs, waterfalls and dancing cascades. It’s true the glaciers are melting; they’ve been melting for thousands of years, and it’s topographically obvious this is not a new phenomenon because the inn I own and run is surrounded by millions of acres of woodlands and sits on one of the many stair-step terraces carved by this great river as it receded from glacial contraction. This is a special corner of Gaia, where vast water makes its journey from the sea to the sky, and back to the sea again in the dance of life. I was brought here to watch over it, so the Fae have made quite clear.

McDonald Lake in Glacier Park

McDonald Lake in Glacier Park

Water cascades off Glacier's Garden Wall

Water cascades off Glacier’s Garden Wall

It’s all about water in all its forms, all of it, all of us, all of the universe. We are really just waking up to this cosmic knowledge and it’s quite the mind-blower when you finally wrap your head around it.

Otter spirit

Otter spirit

A wood duck on McDonald Creek

A wood duck on McDonald Creek

I am not a crystal worker but in the past few years I have been receiving crystals out of the clear blue. I admired them all and recognize their grand purpose, but had to play catch up on what to do with them and how to care for them. Fortunately (nay, synchronistically!) I grew some sage in my garden last year, made some smudge sticks last fall, and put them away in case I should ever need them. Bingo bango, I discover smudge sticks are perfect for clearing crystals! You can almost see them sigh with relief when the sage smoke clears away all past energies and readies them for new information and purpose.

But Laura said that certain types of crystals are required, specifically rose quartz, aquamarine, clear crystal and topaz. I didn’t have all of those in my cache, so a trip to the local crystal dealer in Whitefish was the next step.

For this expedition I co-opted my friend Judi, who had generously gifted me with her cache of crystals a few months prior, for no particular reason either of us could fathom at the time. We found the door of the crystal dealer shop locked, with a sign that read, “Gone Crystal Hunting.” Hmmm… I know how the open door/closed door sync thing works to lead you on your journey, so we wandered down the street of this cute little western ski town to a place called Crystal Winters, only to discover they don’t carry crystals there, but the woman running the store told us, “Down two streets, left one block.” With snow falling on us in audacious flakes of crystal geometry, we came to a place called Rocks and Things Metaphysical.

The teeny store housed a riot of stones (and all manner of cool metaphysical things) all lovingly chosen by the owner, Velvet, an Akashic Records reader among other soul missions. I told her what crystals I needed and why, and she said, “You’ve come to the right place. There are many people putting crystals in the rivers and I have just the right ones for the job.” Stunned, I was. Judi was even stunnededer. With Velvet’s generous Lightworker Discount and blessings, we left the shop with a faery fist of crystals worthy of cleansing Gaia’s raging rivers.

My reflection on the Middle Fork

My reflection on the Middle Fork

Laura suggested I place the crystals at sites of potential assault or damage. There are no specific places along these rivers and lakes I am overly concerned about; it’s all preciously protected, so far. So instead I reckoned to place them where the crystals would catch the most energy and flow to have the most powerful influence. Despite a diligent on-line search, I could find no instructions regarding a proper water protection ceremony, but from my shaman training I understand ceremony and that it’s fine to create your own as needed. Using your intuition to form intention is a beautiful and powerful thing.

I did follow instructions for handling them: I cleared them with sage, charged them in sunlight, and set them out under a full moon. Along their journey to the Pacific, the waters pass through many challenges and places where it might be taken for ranching, mining or agriculture, where it could be polluted or diverted or dammed, so I programmed the crystals to preserve and protect. During the recent ley lines meditation I read that a gridworker has about an 18-mile radius of influence. That sounded about right to the borders I had intuitively placed already, so that was the radius I chose to do the crystal work.

My dog Bodhi (you can read all about Bodhi’s peace mission on her Facebook page Pups for Peace) and I set out on a cold January day, driving north toward Canada along the North Fork, to a place where a major stream flows into the river and forms a raging rapid. This always felt like an energy vortex when I had kayaked through there in the past and it called me. I held the crystals in my hand, set the intention once again, and walked toward the river. But on this glacial day, a frozen ice ridge had formed along the shore. I had intended to place the crystals in the stream but that required stepping onto the ice shelf, and believe me, once you’ve been there, done that, you don’t want to do that again. So my well laid plans of a gentle, sacred ceremony turned into throwing the crystals into the water and hope that they actually reached the water. Sometimes the best you can do is all you can do.

Bodhi on the North Fork

Bodhi on the North Fork

There were other points of placement made this day of frigid cold and ice, but the bridge leading to Glacier and my route to the Middle Fork was closed for snow, so the second half of my crystal work would have to wait until another day.

Some time goes by, the weather warms, and I grab Judi to join me in my second round of crystal work. The sun was shining, a rare event in this part of the world in the winter, and we placed crystals in several places along the Middle Fork. But I reserved the best crystals for a particular spot I have always loved, one of my favorite places in a wilderness full of incredible places. Glacier’s deep blue Lake McDonald holds crystal clear glacial and snow melt for the entire western half of its million acres of wild and wondrous, and it empties softly into a wide creek that winds through duck and otter habitats to the Middle Fork. Every drop of water flowing from this pristine lake must pass a narrow spot in the creek, and we hiked through deep snow to reach it. It was a wonderful moment in a life filled with wonder when I placed these last crystals in Gaia’s watery arms for safekeeping. Two weeks later, Lake McDonald froze over, the first time it has done so in nearly a century. Coincidence? The Fae know better.

Mountain view of the frozen North Fork River

Mountain view of the frozen North Fork River

Frozen stream on the Continental Divide

Frozen stream on the Continental Divide


Raven Moss is the owner of Moss Mountain Inn Eco-Bed and Breakfast on the edge of Glacier National Park, Montana. She hosts guests from all over the world who come to make a personal connection to one of Gaia’s most sacred places. Visit her website at or her Facebook page:

A pregnant West Virginia blogger contemplates CHANGES — to her past, her future, and her water

This is a thoughtful and poignant post by a woman whose life has dramatically changed due to the WV chemical spill poisoning the waters there. In light of some of my other posts about water as something sacred and worth protecting, I thought I’d share her story, since it puts some humanity into an otherwise abstract concept. Prayers for the safe delivery of her unborn child, as well as the safe delivery of her family into a healing, life-giving situation. Prayers for all of those affected in WV and elsewhere. I am concerned that this is just the beginning of the water wars. We best begin searching our hearts, minds and higher selves for protections and solutions. Unlike fresh water, this issue won’t just evaporate on its own.

Book Review: Starhawk’s “The Fifth Sacred Thing”

A local friend suggested I read “The Fifth Sacred Thing,” so that some of us could form a book discussion group about the ideas and vision of this novel. Although it took me awhile to get into the characters, I quickly saw why my friend has read this book three times and counting. It’s filled with permaculture principles, magick, natural healing, and the tension between totalitarian dystopia and a power-from-within ecotopia based upon respect, not control.

I found Starhawk’s text incredibly prophetic, even when I thought it was written in 2005. My admiration tripled when I noticed a publication date of 1993! In 2013, as we face nuclear and toxic poisoning of the Pacific Ocean, a no longer hidden Police State, genetic manipulation, a transhumanist agenda, biological warfare, and increasingly intense weather events –both natural and human-aggravated — the setting of this novel in 2048 feels rather optimistic.

Once I managed to get a handle on the characters, I found the book difficult to put down. As the narrative continued, I realized that the initial ambiguities and confusion about gender, age and physical markers, actually contribute to and underscore the tale. As readers, we quickly find ourselves overwhelmed in and by a post-collapse world, unsure exactly which collapse triggered which events, but gradually recognizing the effects of long-term trauma and difficult life. Things the 20th and early 21st centuries took for granted have not been available for at least a generation, and the ripple effects of such deprivations reach much further than minor or anticipated inconvenience.

At the same time, we find that some things in this future society function much more harmoniously than in our current one. In the absence of cars, trucks and planes, this culture has compensated for its isolation by cultivating the individual gifts of each member of the community — art, music, healing, science, cooking, dreaming and psychic defense. Everyone gardens and participates in seasonal rituals, and the society bases itself around the premise that the Four Sacred Things (fire, water, air, earth) are so sacred that they cannot be privately owned. “May you never hunger; may you never thirst” is a phrase used in real-life pagan gatherings, but in “The Fifth Sacred Thing,” this concept forms the basis of an entire political system! No one goes hungry, and no one goes without water.

As the plot rolls on, we see just how innovative and special this city’s solutions are. Contrast via epic journeys to the Southlands shows us that — despite the obvious challenges up North in 2048 — things could be (and are) much worse elsewhere. The characters face horrific trials that force them to question not only their own morals and philosophies, but also the very essence of what it means to be human. Readers with rigid ideas about sexuality, self-defense, magick, religion, medicine, technology, and the occult will likely find themselves extremely challenged as they journey with the characters. Author Starhawk practices the Reclaiming Tradition, which combines one’s spirituality with non-violent political activism. Throughout her novel, we witness the effectiveness of non-violent resistance, as well as its limitations. The characters’ reactions and struggles force us to evaluate our own fixed ideals, hypocrisy, privilege and irresponsibility. We see on every level how each small action affects the whole of Creation, often in dramatic and unforeseen ways.

I particularly enjoyed all the manifested visualizations, herbal and energetic healing, as well as the key roles played by bees and crystals. Since I have personally made a decision to use magickal self-defense rather than violence should the SHTF, I enjoyed reading about various techniques — many of which I recognized as real, not fiction. In the acknowledgments, Starhawk confirms how thoroughly she researched this book, including Native teachings, along with actual songs, chants, techniques and rituals.

If you’ve ever wondered, “What would I do if society collapsed on multiple levels at once? Does it need to be ‘every man for himself,’ or can (must) we find ways to work together in community? Would we really be stronger together than apart? What does magick have to do with a fully functioning human, and how do I access multi-generational healing?” then “The Fifth Sacred Thing” deserves a place on your bookshelf. You will want to read it again and again, tracking your own growth as you face its challenges. If, on the other hand, you prefer to rest in the hazy halls of denial and wish to cling to the patriarchal status quo, then drop this book like a hot potato! You cannot engage “The Fifth Sacred Thing” and remain unchanged.