Life blood, pour from clouds to Earth below
from Calling the Elements, by Carole McWilliams, on our album Crow Magic
Flash flood, won’t be denied, cleanse me, relentless flow
Shape me, make me, carry me, deep within myself,
The shadow place I will face, what I need to know.
This is the last of four posts on using my song Calling the Elements as inspiration for your rituals with the elements. In previous posts, we’ve explored the earth element, the air element, and the fire element.
Water is the element of the west. What can we say? Water is life. Try doing without it. In many parts of the world, people have no choice but to drink contaminated water. They might feel lucky to have even that. People (mainly women and girls) spend much of their days walking to their water source to fill a jug and carry it home balanced on their head. Sometimes these walks get them raped or killed.
Even in the U.S., there are places where people can’t take clean safe water for granted. Many rural residents here have wells that are unreliable or the water is not safe to drink. They haul treated water from bulk water sources. I don’t drink my well water, but I cook and wash with it. There was a time in my life years ago when I lived without running water. So I appreciate having water when I turn on the tap, even if I don’t drink it.
A ritual for the element of water
This is a loving kindness water ritual I did in May 2016, when we in Southwest Colorado were in the midst of a healthy spring runoff as mountain snows melted. The designated purpose was to honor water as the life blood and celebrate the spring runoff. It also celebrated our sisterhood, something that’s always part of our rituals.
Prepare for the ritual.
Days before the ritual, I gathered little vials of water (empty spice jars) from several nearby natural sources, including a drinkable mountain spring. If this is a group ritual, ask the other participants to also bring some water from a natural source. Bring water/west items for the altar, such as shells, driftwood, water-rounded stones, pictures or figures of water creatures such as Turtle, Salmon or Dolphin.
As priestess, bring a vase, a quart jar or similar receptacle that can hold all the water samples and two bowls to hold the drinkable water, along with regular altar items.
Cast your circle and call the quarters.
To start the ritual, I asked the other participants to pour a small amount of their water sample into the chalice and say where the water was from. Then we cleansed the space with the blended water and salt, and fire and air. I cast the circle with a staff I’d found years before along the San Juan River in Southeast Utah. Then call the four directions or just west/ water if you prefer, using the water verse from my song, Calling the Elements, on our Crow Magic album:
Life blood, pour from clouds to earth below,
Flash flood, won’t be denied, cleanse me relentless flow;
Shape me, make me, carry me, deep within myself,
The shadow place I will face, what I need to know.
End with this: You can hear it in this YouTube video. It’s the last verse:
Call in Deities and focus on your intent.
Have participants put their water pictures or items on the altar and describe what the things mean to them. Then call on water deities, and if you want, plug in some other water-related songs in your Pagan repertoire. We Crows are always looking for opportunities to do this.
Do a little magic.
Then combine all the water samples (except the potable spring water) in a large enough container that is suitable to pour from. Pass it around the circle for each participant to give thanks and bless it. Then pour some back into each participant’s container that they can take home and put on their altar or use for an earth libation.
Finally, energize the spring water with loving kindness: pour it into a ceremonial bowl. Have another clean bowl available. Have each participant take a turn pouring the water ceremoniously from one bowl to the other and back again while saying a blessing.
Raise energy.
Then all gather around and direct energy into it. For our Crow ritual we chanted, “Born of water, cleansing, powerful, healing, changing, I am.” Then we passed the water of loving kindness for each to drink, along with kelp chips as a version of cakes and ale.
Release the circle.
We ended by dismissing the directions, opening the circle, and then moving to our potluck feast. As you eat and drink, remember that it all depends on life-giving water.
Water in the Wheel of the Year
At every gathering we use water singly or in a group, infused with salt, to cleanse our ritual spaces. Our Crow Imbolg (one of our most important rituals of the year) depends on water, and someone’s house with a hot tub. One by one we sit in the hot tub long enough to say our personal intent for the year. As the year progresses, we honor water as part of new life, fertility, and growth. In summer’s heat we celebrate water by getting into it. At harvest time, we use water in food preservation. Was the days get cold, we turn water into luscious soups. We celebrate as the mountains turn white with new snow, starting the cycle for the coming year.
My painting, the cover art for this post
This photo of a crow next to the water is one of several that I took at Vallecito reservoir near Durango Colorado, most likely in June when the reservoir was full to the gills from spring runoff. It’s a place where I routinely stop when I’m there, and this time the crow was an extra bonus. I never have enough crow or raven photos to work from. I used elements from several photos to create a painting.
This painting was a change of pace and color combination from most of my paintings: red rock desert scenes in bright oranges and blue-violets. It was a spur of the moment choice while I was looking through my many years of landscape photos for inspiration and motivation. Aside from working to improve my portrayal of crows, this painting was an exercise in painting water highlights and reflections, hopefully capturing the “waterness” of it. And you notice I did manage to sneak in some orange and purple in the crow and the log. Since the late 1990s, I’ve used dark purple instead of black.
