Dallas Jennifer Cobb
Ostara, the spring equinox celebration, takes its name from the Great Goddess: Eostre, Eostra, Oestara, Ostara, Astarte, Ishtar, and Aset. A celebration of thawing, sprouting and rebirth, it marks a time when the earth is returning to vibrant fertility. Equinox means equal day and night, and is a phenomena shared by all of earth’s inhabitants, a rare, common experience.
Ostara is a wonderful time to focus on water, and not just because water is one of the sacred elements. In the northern hemisphere Ostara is the time of snow melting, spring run off, and rains. In the southern hemisphere Ostara often coincides with the rainy season. But the real reason that Ostara is a good time to focus on healing the water is that it follows soon after the First Nations 13th moon.
For thousands of years Pagans have held water as a sacred element. To the indigenous peoples of the world, water is life. Water is the life blood of Mother Earth.
But, with the growing effects of climate change, global warming, and the increasing commoditization of this valuable natural resource, it’s time for us to take action to protect and heal water. Using the unifying experience of equinox, Ostara is a powerful time to work with collective energy toward collective solutions.
Water Worldwide
Everyday there are news stories of water being polluted, diverted, bottled, sold, and even stolen. With Standing Rock still fresh in our minds, we know what is at stake here in North America. Our access to water is being limited, as it is being polluted and threatened on a mass scale.
Water is essential to human survival. When we are born our bodies are made up of about 78 percent water. As we age, we literally dehydrate. By one year of age we are about 65 percent water, as adults we drop to about 60 percent and are down to almost 50 percent in our elderly years.
The suggested amount of water a human needs to drink daily is 64 ounces, yet 783 million people worldwide do not have access to safe, clean drinking water, and 1 in 5 deaths worldwide of children age 5 and under are attributed to the lack of clean water.
It’s easy to think that the water issue is something that is “over there” and affects only developing countries, but water issues are abundant here in North America. Recent research undertaken in Canada revealed that risky water systems pose a huge health threat to almost 33 percent of First Nations people living on a Canadian reserve. The United States is “on the verge of a national crisis that could mean the end of clean, cheap water ... the situation has grown so dire the U.S. Office of the Director of National Intelligence now ranks water scarcity as a major threat to national security alongside terrorism.” And, we have seen the results of environmental disasters as a result of gas and oil pipeline accidents affecting drinking water along their routes.
The Great Lakes
I live in Southern Ontario on the north shore of Lake Ontario. The beauty, majesty, and power of the lake affects me daily. In the summer I swim across the bay to the lighthouse and back, adrift in the magical underwater world. In autumn I walk the boardwalk entranced by changing colors, migrating geese, and falling leaves. In winter the ice forms volcanoes with icy lake water gushing up and out of them, forming a glistening world of ice castles nestled along the shoreline. And in spring, I wander in rubber boots, witnessing the inland waters rising high enough to burst through the beach, moving sand and rock, soil and plants, so the water can run through and join Lake Ontario.
Lake Ontario is part of the Great Lakes System, which is the largest collection of fresh water in the world, about one fifth of all the fresh water on Earth. In Canada 10 million people rely on water from the Great Lakes to sustain them, in the United States there are 24 million.
Of all the water in the world, only 1 percent is drinkable freshwater (from rivers, lakes, and streams) and there is another 2 percent frozen in the polar ice caps. The remaining 97 percent of the world’s waters are salt water.
Understanding how valuable drinking water is can help people recognize the need to be aware of protecting and healing water.
A Water Keeper
I am part of a vibrant Pagan community that organizes and holds rituals. This spring I was invited to join a Tyendinaga First Nations ritual that took place on the Bay of Quinte, an inland body of water connected to Lake Ontario. When I received the invitation to join in a water ceremony, I leapt at the chance. I had heard about the First Nations water blessing ceremony, and wanted to take part. The ceremony is held at the thirteenth moon in late February or early March, and is always done at the new moon, a time of intention setting for the coming moon cycle.
The local ritual was linked to simultaneous rituals around the world in other communities concerned about groundwater protection. While this ritual was held on First Nations land, and there are many First Nations communities throughout North America who are engaged, the web of communities who are mobilizing to protect, bless, and restore groundwater health is vast, and not limited to First Nations people. It is time for all of us to get involved in the protection and healing of our water.
When I attended the ceremony, I took a pledge to heal and help the water. I urged my ritual circle to organize an Ostara Water Blessing ritual weeks later, which led to more widespread awareness and engagement throughout our community.
Let me tell you about Nibi Wabo, and maybe I can inspire you to become a Water Keeper too.
Nibi Wabo
In 2002 a ceremony was held in the Algonquin community of Kitigan Zibi in Northern Quebec. Thirteen grandmothers were gathered representing Algonquin and mixed blood women from four races. Twelve of the participants were asked by the thirteenth to pass the ceremony on to other women worldwide because in many countries women are the keepers, and carriers, of water.
In 2003, while a sacred fire was held in Kitigan Zibi, Quebec, groups gathered world wide in sacred ceremonies involving up to 3,000 women in Canada, the United States, Mexico, Jamaica, Guatemala, Brazil, Columbia, Germany, Italy, Holland, Senegal, Japan, and New Zealand.
In the years that followed, the ceremony grew and spread. In 2005 there were 9,000 women who gathered worldwide, at the same time as the thirteen Algonquin elders sang on the ice to the water. Feathers used in that sacred ceremony in 2005 were distributed to spiritual elders and healers around the world, that they would continue the work. The ceremony has spread and grown since then.
It is a simple ceremony. A sacred fire is lit just before sunset. It burns for thirteen hours throughout the night. Men may join the ceremony as fire keepers, bearing witness, being of service, remaining quiet, and supportive. If no men are available, women fire keepers are chosen and take on the task of keeping the fire fed and the women warmed.
Women gather around the fire and are smudged with a mixture of cedar and sage to purify them. The importance of water is discussed, and the origins of the ceremony are told. The structure is outlined and the words of the sacred water blessing song are taught in Algonquin/Ojibwa. (Note: This song is passed from woman to woman in verbal tradition, and is not meant to be written down or transmitted on the internet. While you can hear Nibi Wabo being sung in a video, I have been asked not to write the words here out of respect for the First Nations traditions.)
When darkness falls, the women go out on the ice and form a circle. They sing the water blessing song four times to each direction, turning to face the direction as they sing. Some women drum, shake rattles, or bang birch sticks together, keeping the time of the song. The versus are sung quietly, and the chorus is sung loudly, the varying volumes emulating the effect of rushing water. It is believed that the energy of the women heals the water through the song.
After singing, women return to the fire for a traditional feast, and spend the night together talking, sharing, and learning.
The originators insist that this is a woman’s ceremony and it’s meant to be fluid and not rigid, so it can be altered depending on who is doing it. What is important is the blessing of the water through song, so that the water absorbs the healing vibration.
Some groups bring water with them that they bless and offer as a gift to the body of water they stand beside. Other groups bring water and pour it into a large vessel, marrying the waters, and each woman takes some married water home to use in her sacred work.
The ritual I went to included learning a simple prayer:
I am sorry
Please forgive me
Thank you
I love you.
I later learned that it is called Ho’oponopono and is a practice of reconciliation and forgiveness from the Hawai’ian First Nations hakuna (priests and priestesses). Ho’oponopono literally translates as “to make right for all.” Ho‘o means “to make” and pono means “right.” Ponopono means “making it right for all, ones self and others.”
As with singing, we turned to each direction and repeated the prayer.
We were instructed to take the prayer home and say it every time we used water: to make tea, wash, bathe, or water plants. We were to pause, repeat the four stanza’s, and remember the sacredness of water. We were encouraged to use the prayer to heal our relationships, especially with our children.
Since the ritual, I’ve become more conscious of my use and enjoyment of water. I often wrap my hands around a teacup and whisper. I wet my toothbrush and looking into my own eyes in the mirror, whisper the Ho’oponopono to myself.
Now that you understand the sacred and essential nature of water and have heard the song and learned the prayer, why not pledge to be a water protector in your community? Becoming more conscious of waters’ use and power might just inspire you to get active and engaged. Whether you choose to take action locally, engage in your home community, join an international water protection group, or conduct a sacred water healing ceremony, you can protect and heal this sacred element.