Message from Celtic Goddess Coventina written from Western NC as "rains" approached last week.
We are what we eat, speak, do and think.
Modern day society runs on credit cards and apps for payment, but there was a time when brass pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters jangled in pocket books. I remember the sound of them clinking together in my change purse when I played dress up, my excitement when my grandfather, Bobo, would fish around in his pockets to purchase me another Dunkin donut and the patience cashiers extended to elderly women painstakingly counting it out in the palm of their hand with exact measurement. My family had a big glass jar where we would collect change all year, then sit on the floor to pack into paper sleeves and take to the bank for deposit in time for Christmas.
My most magical memories were with pennies! I would stash the shiniest ones in the top little child’s size desk drawer (the same solid oak from which I write, today) and take them with me when I was allowed to ride bicycles 4 miles to the East India Ice Cream Shop on Park Avenue. Before my best friend and I went in for a double scoop, we would tippy toe-stutter step-hop scotch on the brick pavers to a little hidden fountain. It was (and still is) a beautiful homage to Basque culture and as close as I would come to appreciating it until I visited Alhambra as an adult.
Even though I wasn’t physically in the mother lands of fairy tales and Celtic lore, I could use my imagination and pretend that this brightly colored mosaic fountain held my wishes within its rippling waters and I would press that week’s ‘specially selected penny between my palms, bring it up to my lips, whisper a wish and toss it in.
I repeated the ritual whenever Mom took me to the Winter Park Mall…the old one that had a massive three story modern fountain in the middle of it.
I repeated the ritual whenever I traveled to Europe and tossed a penny into various fountains, streams and brooks throughout London, Amsterdam, Vienna, Luxembourg, Lucerne, Munich and Paris.
In my head, I knew it was a playful, frivolous, childish act, but in my heart, it felt natural…as if it was honoring ancient generations that came before me.
Until this week, I had no idea how deep these waters ran.
Seven days ago, I was presented an opportunity to help a person for which traditional western medicine, alone, had failed. Six days ago, I heard Aaron Rodgers share his Ayurvedic journey in overcoming his GI issues. Five days ago, I was forced to acknowledge the litany of food allergies I’ve developed in direct correlation with my heightened six senses.
There had to be a lesson embedded within the commonalities. Given that I’m down to an extremely narrow gut approved diet including turkey sausage, whole wheat toast, certain fruits, some vegetables, home-made lemon-rosemary water and super high end tequila for sustenance, I really wasn’t in the mindset to consider more drastic pallet cuts.
I did not carve out time to fully delve into the topic of foods relationship with health. After all, my favorite use of time is listening to spirit while selecting an outfit specifically meaningful to the day’s readings and connecting people with their loved ones who have passed.
Researching how to live and eat even more healthy wasn’t particularly interesting, besides, I had way more important things to do. But, the Universe had other plans.
While sitting with clients at The Purple Door Apothecary in Sparta, what had begun as a little disturbance before I left home in Florida, turned into a category 4 hurricane that forced me to shelter in place in western North Carolina. With time on my hands, people in need and no distractions of hiking, pickleball or running errands, I chose to respect the original practices that helped me rekindle my gifts. My eldest Doberman stood in front of my meditation room and chirped at me to comply. She’s a stickler for routines and always sensitive when spirits visit during the night. Message received.
Clearly, I needed to set an intention and “sit with it.”
I relished all the wonderful memories, emotions and sensations that swirled throughout my system as I lit a candle, arranged flowers, placed my Goddess archetype deck in front of me, unfurled my yoga mat and sat criss-cross on my block. (I doubt I’ll ever manage to sit up straight without it).
My intention was “what should I do to best help more people.”
Twenty-two minutes later with clear answers received, I shuffled the 44 card deck multiple times, pulled an allotment from the top to set aside before turning one face up. Each person has their own way of selecting cards, but this is my personal tradition.
I pulled Coventina-Purification…“It is time for a cleansing detoxification of your body and mind.”
I opened the corresponding book page that elaborated about her and learned she was a Celtic goddess of rivers and streams. That she promotes healthy eating, pure thoughts, intentions and lifestyle. Throughout the ages, people honored her by throwing change into fountains! Yes, it took me back to pleasant times and travels, but really? I couldn’t fathom further restrictions. I thought to myself, “I’m in no mood for this, I’ll show her.” I decided to re-shuffle the cards and pull them in a different manner. One that aligns with the past, present and future.
The first card I pulled was “Aine-Leap of Faith…100% accurate.” The second was “Sekhmet-Be Strong...100% accurate.” The third was “Coventina-Purification.”
Damnit!!! I couldn’t beat the system.
Of course, this type of synchronicity is the norm for me and others who have awakened to positive practices of ancient ways.
I texted my girlfriends photos of all the cards, with the message, “looks like I’ll be pursuing healthier habits.”
They reinforced the importance and timing of the message. Those of us who work in the alternative healing space and hold a keen awareness of others’ energy are most susceptible to having ourselves drained, worn out and exhausted without proper self-care, boundaries and holistic hygiene. During mediation, my goal was to learn how to help more people. I can only do that if I best manage, myself, first. Our WhatsApp group shared tips on how each of us incorporates healthy habits.
One chimed in. “You can’t make this stuff up!”
We all had a good laugh and bantered about the statistical improbability of 44 cards shuffled multiple times and pulling the same one, twice. Maybe I should play in Vegas one day.
For now, I’m grateful the sun has finally emerged after 48 hours of torrential rain. With brass jangling in one hand and hiking poles in the other, I’m off to the woods where I can lean into joyful memories while tossing pennies into the freshly swollen streams.
Brought with love, light and joy!
Tracy Olsen