Conscious Living: The Druid and the Land 2

The Web of the Waters

Of the ancient Indo-European peoples, we may say with near certainty that they regarded the sources of fresh water in their world—and in particular the principal local river—as holy, as places for making sacrificial offerings, and identifiable with a significant goddess. The etymological relationship between many river names in the Indo-European world and the names of goddesses (sometimes mother figures perhaps seen as progenitors of other deities and/or human communities) underscores this: Danube, Dneiper, Don (all major rivers), and Danu are all names embodying this deep identification of life-giving fresh water with mother goddesses. Irish myth and place name lore records numerous tales of river goddesses: The goddess Boann is, for example, identified with the River Boyne, in whose valley is found the sacred Hill of Tara, seat of Irish sovereignty.

Springs, wells, and other fresh water sources in particular seem to be held in special regard—where the waters that sustain life spring forth from the underworld is an example par excellence of where the blessings of the non-human realms are offered up to support human life and where sacrifice might be made.

By contrast, the turbulent and salty ocean was often to be seen as an abode of storms and chaotic figures (such as the Fomorians of Irish lore) and as being an environment that presented human beings with challenges and dangers and served as a boundary between this world and the Otherworlds.

In our modern technological society, the ocean still presents itself to us as a wilderness, but fresh water has been tamed and stripped of much of its mystery. Increasingly, we not only can turn on any of possibly several faucets in our homes to avail ourselves of water for drinking and cooking, but we can shop for drinking water—often packaged to highlight its genesis in one spring or another—from supermarket shelves. What was once seen as the literal presence of the Waters of Life in our world has been marshaled, restricted, diverted, and ultimately commodified.

At the same time, humanity has been profligate with this once-sacred resource. In many parts of the world—not least my own home state of California—communities are confronted with water scarcity as population growth outstrips water supply. Or the diversion of fresh water to supply distant population centers has created environmental disasters (as in California’s Owens Valley or with the catastrophic drying-up of the Aral Sea in Asia).

In seeking to reclaim the spiritual practices of the ancient Druids, we are called to re-sacralize our fresh water resources, to start once again to approach our watersheds with a sense of respect, if not, indeed, of veneration. How can we do this?

As individuals, we can educate ourselves about our watersheds: Where is the source of the water supply in your home? What are the threats to that water source (from pollutants, from overuse, from the introduction of non-native flora and fauna, etc.)? How plentiful and durable is your water source?

We can make a “pilgrimage” to the local water source. For some lucky individuals, this might be a walk down the street…or even into the backyard. But, for others, this might involve considerable research and miles traveled. In some cases, the water source may not even have water in it—some rivers are dry for parts of the year. In visiting our water source, we can spend time with it and attempt to become attuned to its character—to come to know the divine presence in the river. It may not be safe—sadly—to taste the water, but one can likely touch it. We can listen to the sounds of its passage—those so inclined may hear its voice and a message it carries—and we can see, hear, touch and smell the vegetation and animal life it supports…life that is part of the same ecosystem we inhabit.

Making offerings to the water is a possibility, but should be undertaken with respect not merely for the water source, but for other human and animal visitors. One person’s gift may become another’s eyesore. Some physical offerings might conceivably contribute—albeit in a small measure—to the load of pollutants in the water. Consider pouring a libation of a prized beverage, which will likely contribute little that is untoward to the ecosystem.

Another form of offering is activism—giving the gift of one’s labor on behalf of the waters. In some places, wetlands restoration efforts need support. One might participate in (or even organize) trash cleanup efforts.

Lastly, on a more explicitly spiritual level, each of us can contemplate the vast web that is the hydrology of our world: Water rising to the heavens and returning to the earth in storms and mists, rivers flowing out of and over rocks and soils renewing and reshaping the terrain, the life-giving bounty gathering in ever-larger channels and lakes and finding its way to confront the salty sea. Our bodies themselves—as most of us have been taught—made up mostly of this same sacred essence…ourselves bound up in the web as one small drop of the life-giving blood of She whom the ancients would have seen as the mother of the Waters. We can certainly find place in our ritual activities to thank and honor the great source that sustains life.

Todd Covert – January 2007