Water

My concerns over water grow as I dive into a project with a friend in the last couple of weeks and uncovering the percentages over abuse and contamination over our precious element of water. I´ve been drawn toward her more and more lately. The connection is strong as I bathe , swim, drink it...survive because of her. It nurtures the Earth and this planet we live in so it then can bear fruit and nourish even more on what we eat, what is grown in our garden. Water is the carrier of the essence of life. As it nurtures the Earth it is the same for us considering that we are 70% of water in our bodies.

How far back do we go. The womb, the bearer of this sea of consciousness in which life became possible. Becoming those containers of life force to interact with it not only in our bodies but everything we come in to contact. The mist traveling in the late hours of the night. The rain as teardrops over us at early dawn, cleansing, clearing. Teardrops filled with emotions that are moving through. That is the feeling that is coming to mind. Navigating within our own bodies as we travel in any space such as our mind, body or Earth but I feel it coming strongly into my womb, the second chackra. I am declaring the longing to clear my second chackra, to have it filled with clear, transparent water. Fluidity rising to my heart.

I was thinking of scarcity of water such as countries now experience in different parts of the world and as I open my facet, each time I become more and more conscious of every drop that is available for me, how abundant it is now at the house, all around here.

I remember when I was a little girl living in Costa Rica and we were 4 kids living in the same household and my grandmother would give each one of us a bucket full of water to bathe in and it was in our eyes plenty! She would collect buckets of water during rainfalls and there was a container in the backyard for those days when the city agencies would shut the water down for an entire day. She also had a "pila", a cement sink where we would wash our clothes and dishes and right next to it was a small basin where she would collect water. There was plenty but it was scarce in the city at least that was the feeling we had as we were growing up.

and now here we are later, twenty something years later and the scarcity is becoming more and more evident even in Los Angeles, the city of great abundance, so much abundance that it becomes deceiving how in other countries the lakes are drying, mud cracks on the dying desert, the Earth is longing desperately for its mist and rain to open up the avenues of rivers and creeks that feed the femenine flow among our cities.