Water is sacred, hot plastic is not

The latest phenomena to fascinate me is the ability of water to change molecular structure depending on a variety of factors. Dr. Emoto studies water and has learned that water responds to emotion, anger, flattery, love, the sacred, laughter, tears. His tests show on youtube, that if you freeze water after its exposure to these different things, the crystals will be predictable.  Angry water crystallizes in chaotic weakness without symmetry. Super sacred water has extremely intricate crystalizations that fractal to the infinite.

My first introduction to the changeability of water was in a class called "Land as life" during the aquisition of my BA degree. We explored how human interaction for indigenous cultures interconnected with the sacred, and in that course, we were able to whale watch in high seas, take a trip in a war canoe, experience the honour of a dawn swim in a nearby lake, as well as discovering Dr. Emoto's inspiring research.

The idea of holy water is not new to the traditional western culture's churches, but I wonder if they ever knew that to bless the water, or pray over or into it, or set your intent by choosing how to interact with water, would actually have an effect on the shapes it can take on a molecular level ?

Which leads me to finding a beautiful clear glass jug of fresh water sparkling on the kitchen counter of my new home. My housemate and I were matched by a mutual friend recently because she saw similarities in our values and head space. When I first saw this jug, I remembered Dr. Emoto and I touched its soothing coolness with both hands as if to get a sense of if this water had been prayed over or not. Just for a lark. I knew that my conscientious housemate had understandings about many things. Imagine my delight when her voice came back to me from the other room where she was researching Pakistan, a surprised 'Yes!'

That moment was a key turning point for me. Knowing I had sanctuary where this gentle evolved soul would know that drinking blessed water was  the way to go, let me breath.

So we drink water that is always thanked for being sacred and vital. There is never a time, we don't stop in the refilling of the jug, just to ask the water for permission, to give thanks, to optimize its ability to nourish and rebalance whoever ingests it.

When we were making tea the other evening, I asked my housemate why we were blessing the water if we were boiling it in a plastic kettle. A few years old, it was showing a bit of wear and I was hesistant to use heated old plastic because of the issue of pthalates offgassing from plastics that are heated and cooled repeatedly. Pthalates are nasty things that seek fat/oil to attach to, stockpiling in our bodies, mimicking hornones and confusing our immune systems.

If you take a look around your house, you will see where plastic, old and new, will be heated and exposed to us. Your shower curtain, if it is plastic, gasses you as you stand in the steam. Plastic dishes, cups and bottles, all filled with hot contents, all react similarily. Even your plastic sex toys, hate to tell you.

Hospitals scald plastics every day and put fresh coffee in cups that smell like stale coffee and bleach them within an inch of their little lives. The kettle you boil water in, the coffeemaker's basket where the grounds are kept, these are all culprits for the transference of pthalates from their plastic hosts to our delicate bodies.

The toys that bob in your warm bath when you wash the kiddies, the plastic gel filled teething ring you boiled to protect baby, is now being gummed ferociously by a teething infant. Heat applied to plastics causes it to begin to disintegrate.

So be kind to the water you drink, and look at your life's patterns and see where plastics intersect with it. How can you eliminate exposure to its offgassing?

Wise Wild Woman

Years ago, on Saltspring Island, a trippy little enclave of sanity surrounded by water, I took a 5 year hiatus from chaos and lived a wild woman, wise woman life. I had lovely weekend workshops with amazing and inspirational women who taught me all about the wise woman way of seeking different means than mainstream in which to live my life. Fast forward almost 20 years to a 55 year old woman in distress. I have no children any longer, I am fresh out of a relationship where my spouse's dishonesty broke our love into pieces and I spent a dicey 5 weeks as I sought to get my feet under me.

This is the resolution part of that episode of my life.

Wise Wild Woman

I find myself in that place where I have no responsibilities and no structure. There are no definites these days and my plans are nebulous at best. I have people well intentions and not so much who suggest routines, I anticipate returning to them soon, but for now, I am on the loose.

As an ex-wife, ex-mom, ex-student, I am in that enviable place in my life where magic is afoot and big changes are in the process of occurring. To some, I am sure, I am thought of as being out of control, but for the immediate moment, I am happy just the way things are, and just the way I am.

The wild woman uses her wheels like a rolling support vehicle. It is loaded with all the necessary accoutrements of daily life, and also, camping gear, bedding, assorted snackage that doesn't need refrigeration as well as a full office suite - cell phone, laptop, digital camera and all the supporting cordage and tripodage. Like a Girl Guide, I am prepared for any eventuality I can possibly anticipate and ready to greet it with grace.

This wild woman is NOT a martyr and she does NOT suffer. I have my hair done, keep an immaculate manicure and skin care regimen and dress as well as any woman with a home. Unlike the woman with the home however, I also know where the nearest wifi is, wherever I may drift, where the good public bathrooms are and last but not least, where the best parking spots are for Vancouver Island wild wise women. Scenery is a must, the vaster, the more breathtaking the better.

Parking spots for wild women have intense criteria. They need to either be deep in the shady forest, on the shoulder of a sparsely traveled road, but that has access to wifi for my nefarious wild woman dealings. Or the perfect parking spot should be in a solitary seaside position where no other signs of human life are nearby.

Here, I will write, draw, communicate with supportive allies near and far, rest, read, listen to podcasts or watch tv shows on my netbook. I walk, take photos, videos, upload them, blog, eat, relax, sing, doze and sometimes when it all catches up to me, I sob, I cry, I pray or I scream my bloody head off. Get it out is my motto. Wild women don't need all that angst locked up inside.

The way I look at it is, this wild woman's breeding days are over. I am no longer sought as a sexual liason. Life is way less complicated, especially now that my husband has given up on us and cast me free. I am invisible to our culture now. An old woman who is seemingly purposeless. In the grand scheme of things, I have no assets, no worth, no financial value, hence, I don't have much of a vote with the meagre dollars I do spend.

Let it be known that for this six foot amazon to be invisible is just where I want to be. I am happy to not exist to the powers that be - making a minimum visible means of support and then building my goddesscracy underground.

Who expects a homeless woman to be a societal catalyst?

Works for me.

*Note- Since this was written, I have found a lovely sanctuary that I can function comfortably out of. Goddess bless! I give thanks to my Creator for hearing my cries and dreams and helping me resourceress my way out of the dark and back into a light where life is much more conducive to being my wise, wild woman self.