ABOVE: Along the waterfront: my map of childhood water places
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Ugh, I'm still feeling thrown off by work culture -- dampened.
I suspect it's going to take some time to re-orient myself there;
but meanwhile, I'm filling the gaps where the rain gets in with Other Things,
and I'm so happy that yesterday I made myself accept Volunteer Vikki's invitation to go to her Congregational church.
I didn't want to, fearing emotional gloppiness, but it wasn't like that AT ALL.
An Ojibwe elder and Water Protector, Sharon Day, was giving the guest sermon, and beforehand she led a one-hour reflection on water in our lives.
I loved her.
It's funny--Sharon did just what the Spiritual Director I'd disliked had done at the church I'd gone to last month:
she invited us to close our eyes and reflect.
But instead of feeling fake and syrupy, it felt REAL.
I thought, Okay, well, I'll just try that.
The prompt was to reflect on a body of water we have known well...
Afterwards we could write a thank-you letter to the water.
Instead, I felt moved to start to draw a map of two lakes and the channel between them that I grew up near.
[Map ABOVE (I'd like to fill it in more.)]
As kids, my sister and I spent a lot of time along the shore-- sometimes with the neighbor girls our age, but always unaccompanied by adults, because those were the days.
We had our own names for places--the geography of childhood...
People read their letters, if they wanted.
Some of the reflections were about grand and powerful bodies of water, like Lake Superior, but at one point Sharon Day said that when she was in recovery, after she put her kids to bed, sometimes she would submerge herself in her bathwater and listen to her heart beat.
I was so filled up by that hour, I didn't go to the church service.
Here, below, is a cool little story Sharon Day tells about a young woman who joined her for ten days on one of the Nibi (Water) Walks--walking the length of the entire Mississippi River--and what the young woman found, or, what found her.
"The Nibi (Water) Walks are Indigenous-led, extended ceremonies to pray for the water. Every step is taken in prayer and gratitude for water, our life giving force."
--More here: https://www.nibiwalk.org
BELOW: Clip from "Sharon Day: Speaking for the Water", transcript of Native Lights Podcast: Where Indigenous Voices Shine, Hosts: Leah Lemm, Cole Premo, Minnesota Native News, July 31, 2025,
minnesotanativenews.org/sharon-day-speaking-for-the-water
Sharon Day: "A young woman... had been in treatment, and she got out and drank that night, and then the next day, her mother said,
'You’re gonna go walk on this water walk'.
So she was with me for 10 days.
It was kind of a struggle those first couple of days, and at one point that first night, she told me, she said,
'I really want to drink, and I have $20 in my pocket and I could go drinking.'
And I said, 'Yes, you could, but let me, let me tell you a story and sing you a song.'
So I did, told her the whole story, sang a song, and she said,
'Okay, I’m going to go to bed, but tomorrow I might drink.'
Like, okay, fine.
Well, she stayed with me for 10 days, and on the 10th day, she ran up ahead of us.
We crossed the Mississippi River into Wisconsin, and there was a wayside rest up there, and she ran up ahead of us, and she came running back,
and she had this eagle feather in her hand, and she said,
'Look what I found.'
And I said, 'Look what found you.'
And she said, 'It’s kind of like me. It’s a little battered.'
And I said, 'But it’s still beautiful.'
She said, 'Yes.' "
[End clip from Sharon Day: Speaking for the Water]
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(This reminded me of recently quoting from children's book The Story of Edward Tulane, by Kate DiCamillo:
"Someone will come for you".)
And this all reminds me of Advent too, which started yesterday, the pregnant weeks leading up to Christmas.
At this time, the Magi are walking toward the Baby Yet to Be Born.
They are bringing gifts. But the Baby is the gift, like the eagle feather.
At this time of year, I am always reminded to wonder...
What gifts are walking toward us, which we cannot even imagine?
And, What gift are we, waiting to be found, or given?
