The Birth of a Goddess - Brita of the Clean Water!

Goddess Brita by artist Cary Stringfield

Two days after the September full moon, you might have felt something shifting: the hint of humidity on your skin, the scent of rain, an almost inaudible tinkling giggle, a sudden desire for a cool drink of water. These were the first stirrings of a new goddess being born into the world: Brita, Goddess of Clean Water.

Brita’s Past

She was conceived in The Before Times – the pre-pandemic months of 2020 – when a diverse group of spiritual seekers gathered at the Labyrinth Temple in Oklahoma City for an American Gods-inspired exploration of how gods of the past relate to our current age. While springs and wells were immensely important to the survival of pre-modern peoples around the world and their spiritual and magical significance is easy to understand historically, they are not part of our everyday experience now. Even though I have well water at my home, my experience of the well is much different and perhaps less personal than that of pre-modern peoples. Water itself, however, remains just as critical as ever. And so we pondered what a goddess of clean water might be like if she appeared today.

The name Brita of the Filtered Water was suggested. There was giggling – a giggling of humor, of possibility, of true intentions of hope for places like Flint, Michigan, neglected Reservations, foreign countries, our own friends & neighbors. A giggle of conception. Everyone giggled that night. Even Brita.

Brita’s Present

Friday, September 4th, Brita was invoked in her own ritual. “Hold up,” you might say, “can you even *do* that? Who says you can have a new goddess at all?” There are some schools of thought that say it is possible. There are some that say it isn’t. I’m not here to promote any particular beliefs or metaphysics. I’m here to say that this whole process from re-imagining deities to performing a ritual for Brita was a useful and powerful experience for those involved.

This water healing ritual was designed by Priestess Emmah Eastwind of the Labyrinth Temple for the September Full Moon. We gathered in our masks and carefully spaced chairs inside the labyrinth as dusk deepened into night. We honored the quarters with cups of water and Sarah Sage invoked the Goddess in her own words:

“Child of the Fresh Waters! We welcome a new North American Goddess to our circle. Brita, we name you!

Granddaughter of ancient Sumerian God of freshwater, Apsû—primordial, the first, the begetter.

Daughter of Atabey, Caribbean Goddess of earth, fresh water, and fertility – she who represents the Earth Spirit and the Spirit of all horizontal water, lakes, streams, the sea, and the marine tides.

Brita, Pride of her Ancestors, purified by the Earth, flowing clean and clear through charcoal – maker of diamonds. She, too, is precious like the gemstone – shimmering, sheer delight. She blesses us, washes away negativity, freshens, and refreshes us inside and out. We splash and play, celebrating her youthful babbling. We thank you, Brita for joining us in circle tonight.

Merry Meet, Brita!”

Each person approached Brita in the center to receive healing by washing their hands in a poured stream of filtered water while the rest were led in chant by Emmah, haltingly at first as befits the birth pangs of a goddess, but strong and clear when the last person finished.

“Brita of pure, clean water
Wash us and we shall renew
Aid our healing, ease our cares
Strengthen each of us anew”

Some people felt calmed by the experience, some loved, some invigorated. Each received what they needed. It was… magical.

Brita at the Labyrinth Temple

Brita’s Future

The image of Brita created by Cary Stringfield sits on the altar at the Temple. We can honor her by approaching the clean water we have with gratitude and not taking it for granted, or by donating to organizations dedicated to increasing access to clean water on this continent or around the world, or by contributing to political action in places where clean water is threatened or unavailable. Or perhaps we can honor her in smaller ways like keeping our ice maker free of mold and cleaning or changing what water filters we use. She is a goddess of the 21st century so invent new ways to honor her! Thank a water treatment facility employee. Make a blog post. She is currently a child goddess, spritely and fun-loving. Play in your bathwater. Dedicate bubbles to her. 😀

Who knows what her future holds. Will we still honor her in 5 years? Will she be remembered in 50 years? 500? Whether she is still honored as Brita or returns in another form through whatever fates affect goddesses, water will continue to be integral to our survival.

So for now, HAIL BRITA!

How Can I Connect with the Land?

I frequently see posts online from "Baby Witches" or "I'm new to all this" asking for simple ways to begin a practice.  I wondered if I could break down my years of druid training and experience as a lifetime Okie to distill parts of my own practice that I use to keep me connected to this land. The information in this post is specifically written for someone who has no experience with ritual or is just beginning to think about what it means to feel a connection to a land, place, or nature. This is based on what I actually do in my everyday practice.

First I will lay out the instructions, then there is a bit of explanation and metaphysics. For the more experienced practitioner who is new to Oklahoma, the ritual described is generic enough to be used anywhere but it also has specific meaning for me in this particular place. I may write more about why in a future post. For the experienced practitioner who wants to check on what I'm peddling to the innocent... welcome. I hope I don't disappoint. :)

The simplest of simple ways to magically connect to the land:

1. Greet the first tree or bush you see when you step out of your home. Do it every time you leave, or at least once a day. “Good morning, Tree!” or “Hello, bush! I like your flowers. Have a nice day!”
2. A tiny ritual:
1. Need one ritual item (for example a lit candle, incense, container of water, can of beer, pumpkin spice latte, etc. Something you can easily and safely carry)
2. Find the directions (north, south, east, west)
3. Face east. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Wind which blows across the land.”
4. Face South. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Sun which shines on the land.”
5. Face West. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Rains which fall on the land.”
6. Face North. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Land beneath my feet.”
7. Face east again to blow out the candle or say a closing word like “Blessed Be” (“Amen”, “Cheers” etc)
3.  The third simple way is to honor the things you may already be doing as the magical acts they are. Watching the sun during your work commute, giddy excitement when it rains, bringing in a fallen leaf or found feather, watching a spider weave, listening to crickets and cicadas, whatever fills you with joy or longing is a magical act. How you personally can best focus or make conscious use of that might be a life-long search. :)

There are many metaphysical theories and spiritual tradition descriptions of the whys and hows of human communication with the non-human. But the basic idea of why #1 above is a useful magical act is that your human brain, by years of training, processes communication through spoken language. Even if you don’t actually say the words out loud, thinking them still consciously engages your ability to communicate with the tree on whatever level you believe it can hear you. A process is begun, a connection is made, a thread of fate spins out that will weave into your unique life.

I am an animist by inclination and training. I see many parts of the natural world, like the trees and bushes of our everyday lives, as interested in being treated as neighbors and friends. I talk to them as I would a human person. But I also see them has having, although maybe different, just as varied a range of emotions and personalities as human people. This means that if you get a strong feeling that a tree doesn’t want you to say good morning to it, trust that instinct. Maybe it isn’t into you for whatever reason and you can greet the second tree you see. Maybe it’s just surprised or cranky, though, so it isn’t necessary to be afraid, just respectful. When I first moved to my home I discovered an old redbud tree tucked away in a perfect corner for meditating. I sat in the peaceful shade many times but I just kept getting feelings that it was cranky and crotchety and wasn’t sure it liked me. Occasionally the moment I arrived I would be beset by a horsefly or mosquitos and I just respectfully said “ok, sorry, I’ll go someplace else today.” That tree and I are old friends now but his corner of the yard is still one I only use rarely and for specific work. There is a pecan tree on the other side of the yard that is much more open to my shenanigans. Trust your gut feelings about the attitude of your trees, but don’t take them personally.

This tiny ritual is the most basic description of what I added to the globally practiced OBOD teachings to connect them to my own land. My starting point was asking how not having an ocean makes my relationship to water different from, say, someone living in Ireland. Thanks to the jet stream, dry line, and terrain, storms generally move across this state from west to east. The importance of rain in Oklahoma is probably something you don’t need me to explain. So, in the west, where my tradition honors the element of water, I honor the rain which falls upon the land. That is one example of how this almost ridiculously simple seeming ritual has deeper meaning for me and how I connect to the land of Oklahoma.

This ritual can be elaborated or inserted into any ritual structure. You can cast a circle if you wish or add things at the beginning or end. When I do ritual for myself, I add these into my calling of the quarters. You can change “honor” to “greet”, which I sometimes do in the morning, or “thank” as I sometimes do at the end of a rite or the day. I might do this basic simple ritual by itself with only an intentional prayer added at the end if I am quickly prepping my house for a party, or planting a new garden bed, or sometimes just because it feels right. Sometimes I share beer with the land. To do so, I might use a bottle of beer in the ritual and after the “I honor…” statement say “Please accept this drink in friendship” then take one swig and pour one out. When I’m getting ready for a special day in my life, I might lift my coffee mug and “toast to” the quarters. I may also face center at the end and honor ancestors, or guides and guardians, or whomever I’m thinking about or working with at the moment. To signal the end of the ritual, I usually say something to indicate that it is over. My tradition has some common “end of ritual” wording that I like and so use, but anything that seems appropriate to you will work. Roman Catholic mass has several types of endings such as my favorite “I leave you peace. My peace I give you. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” I have occasionally adapted this for my own use. Bottom line is, to do this tiny ritual you don’t need to add anything for it to open your connection to this land, but it is a living ritual can be improvised from the heart.

Sometimes when we are first starting out we want to get everything *right*. There is no ancient tradition of connecting to the lands of Oklahoma to be found in a book or a website with explicit instructions. So this ritual came out of my own experience and practice. I am always experimenting with it. I wrote it. Now you have it. If you are the type of person who needs someone to grant them permission to trust their own intuition, intellect, and heart, who isn’t sure if it is ok to try something out and reject it and try something different: Here is your permission. *plop* One permission. Reusable.

I leave you permission, my permission I give you. Go in permission to create and connect with this land! 💚