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The Water is the Mother, the Mother is the Medicine



There are rivers of water beneath our feet. 


These subterranean aquifers wrap around the entire world. Weaving under lakes and out again through oceans. The rivers are all one body of water that contain memory and emotion.


If you close your eyes, perhaps you see how the rivers beneath you are also flowing under me. We are connected under each and every nation, community, religion, sacred site, and warzone. 



As the rivers pick up speed in high emotional states, it can become uncomfortable to ride the waves of the world. Exhaustion can permeate the collective emotional fields.


When I am feeling heaviness in the world, I often orient down to these rivers. 


When I remember how we are all informed by the same water, the heaviness of the world becomes easier to exist within.


Hardships become simultaneously less personal, but also mine to nourish. Just as I am sipping the waters of Palestine, they are sipping mine. 


I see how discontent in my microcosm is influenced by trauma in the Middle East. The war is bombing and genocide AND ripple effects of its trauma run through the river beneath us now. 


The war is where the water touches. The patterns of war show up into our own emotional bodies. 


We can experience helplessness, scarcity, isolation, addiction, irritation, loneliness, psychic attack, depression, anxiety…


Our own version of war, conflict, and separation can manifest in the physical world as a result of these feelings. 


The war machine wants innocents to think they are doing something wrong when experiencing effects of the poison. 


War wants us to focus on self-involved issues so much that the content of the water itself remains unacknowledged. We keep drinking the pollution – blaming ourselves for the pain or “not learning the lesson yet’.


With the recognition of how we are all connected by the rivers, my capacity increases to claim healing for my family. 


The water is the mother and the mother is the medicine.




There is a Matriarchy that is watering the garden of the world. There are women you know who are working with the river beneath you. A woman who goes deeper than most could imagine, and doesn’t get weary from it. 


May we recognize these women who purposefully gaze upon the death and destruction with eyes of love. 🙏🏻


May we acknowledge the power that water offers: to not turn away from hardship, or become victim/victimizer. 


To bestow the water –

to become the fountain – 

there is a process of reclaiming innate connections that were previously avoided. 



A facet of spiritual maturity is boundaries. To know what belongs to you, what is yours to do and not do, is a path of sovereign reclamation and it’s important. 


However the Women of the Underground River recognize what touches them is theirs to tend. They aren’t separating the tributaries. 


They are keening women; the midwifery women. They are the witness, and whatever their eyes touch, however their heart bends, also belongs to them.


This is my sorrow, my joy. The bombs on the other side of the world are hurting innocent children, and this is also my water, my pain, my family, my process to turn towards. Because it’s also my river. 


And these women tend the death with ease. There is truly not much labor here. To do the medicine work through the river actually releases labor. It brings spaciousness.


It is not a burden for the river to be in sacred union with the water that touches everything. It is not sacrificial to be the river.


Written by Eliza Maora