High Harrington – a return to dowsing roots
On our way over from Castlerigg to Ennerdale I noticed that we would be going within a short distance of the village that I used to live in when I lived in Cumbria. It was too good an opportunity to miss, especially as I suddenly thought of something that might make the visit a bit more interesting – High Harrington was the first place that I ever dowsed, when I was about 11 or 12 years old. How about going back to discover what it was that I found int he field opposite my old house?
Despite the fact that the satellite navigation on my phone was really playing up that morning I still remembered enough about the area to be able to navigate us to the right place (after one false alarm due to new construction). I pointed out old haunts on the way through the village from the east side and eventually we parked opposite my old house, next to the field I had first dowsed in (not the house pictured, but similar if much smaller).
The first thing I noticed about the house was that the neighbours had cut down their beautiful cherry tree – the one bit of joyful colour in this otherwise drab street. Shame, because it would have been in bloom at that time of year. Now there was just an bland gap. Fools! We made our way to the field and hopped over the gate for a swift bit of dowsing – surely no-one would mind two fellas swinging rods around in a grassy field?
I asked the rods to find the exact spot where I had got a dowsing reaction 30 years ago, although back then I knew not why, of course. I was within ten feet of the spot and it only took me seconds to locate it. Now I had the knowledge to find out what the reasons for the reaction were. So, I asked the rods for more information about the spot. It turned out to be a very weak female spiral caused by some underground water at that spot. Wow – after all these years the round trip was completed, and the mystery solved!
Just as we were climbing back over the fence a farmer appeared asking what we were up to. Funny how he appeared just at that moment – almost like one of the locals tipped him off, or something? Still a bunch of close-knit nosy parkers then? Nothing changes up that part of the country. I explained my situation, my history and what I was doing. Farmers are often sympathetic to this. Indeed he was quite reasonable, not flinching one bit at the dowsing, and in fact confirming that there were several water springs in the field that he had come across when working the land over the years. Excellent – conformation of my findings too. What a bonus! I thanked the nosy parkers for their hidden intervention, and turned my suspicious thoughts into unqualified thanks.
Ennerdale Water – an exchange of spirits
The next destination we headed for was another one of my re-visitations. We drove to Ennerdale Water, one of the smaller lakes and the one closest to High Harrington (okay – maybe Loweswater is slightly closer – don’t be pedantic – it’s poetic license). I remember cycling to Ennerdale on several occasions on warm weekends and when I arrived I would usually walk around the lake, up into the hills, and sit by a stream or just look out over the lake for a while, then ride all the way home. No wonder I had legs like tree trunks as a youth!
In my mind I had a vivid memory of standing on the shore of Ennerdale, almost saying goodbye to it before I moved away. Now I was back. We parked at the car park and walked the short walk down to the edge of the lake. There was no obvious way to get TO the lake itself so we walked around for a while, and then I insisted that we find a way down to the lake shore, so we plunged through the long grass whereupon I found an almost invisible animal track and we followed that. At the end of the track it opened out onto a pebble-strewn cove of some fifteen feet across and only a few feet in depth. I stopped shocked. This was the exact place I remember last standing in my memory of the place! I had found the exact point thirty years later. The power of the subconscious mind, eh?
It wasn’t warm, though. Kal and I skimmed some stones for a few minutes, admiring the ones that bounced several times and boo-ing the ones that plopped unceremoniously into the dark blue repository. It was a moment of youthful playfulness. Then I felt a tug, a need to connect to the lake. I have always had good experiences connecting with the spirits of lakes, but despite that I put up some protection. One never knows what’s out there, so it’s best to be safe.
The Blue Stone to White Stone exchange
With my protection in place I extended my aura out into the lake asking for any water spirit that wished to connect to do so. I also took out my set of elemental crystals (the only ones I had brought with me to the lake) and tried to remember exactly which one was for the water spirit. After a minute of deliberation I chose a blue agate that I had recently introduced into the set for some reason. I called upon the water spirit that I have become familiar with to move herself into this crystal so that I could work with her. I felt a distinct..unwillingness for her to do that! I picked out the other crystal that she might reside in (or through which I could contact her) and asked if she was in that one – YES. But it was an indistinct clear quartz crystal and it was easily confused with the other one in the collection. I needed to change this, so I asked the lake spirits if I would be allowed to remove a stone from the lake within which to re-house my familiar water spirit. The roar of approval was almost deafening to my internal ears, as it were. The overwhelming feeling of “rightness” was the permission I needed.
I picked up my staff and looked into the lake – which one to choose? There was a small white stone about six feet into the shallows that caught my eye. I asked, would that stone be suitable? Again the lake’s spirits responded encouragingly with a tingly pleasant feeling in my stomach, like excitement.
By the way – some signs for disapproval include birds making noises around me, anything that is very distracting just after the question is asked, or a feeling of queasiness in my stomach. The birds I take as a warning, the distraction is telling me that I should be looking elsewhere for an answer, and the queasiness tells me that the thing I am about to do is not good for me.
I fished out the stone, not wanting to touch the lake until the last moment when I picked the white Dolomite stone out. Kal kept saying, “Come on! Just pick it up!” but I had to do it carefully, with the minimum of disturbance and not too greedily. It had to come because it wanted to, not because I wanted it to. It arrived easily and willingly.
On the shore I held the stone for a short while and then was pleased to find it was warm and perfectly dry, despite the cold weather and my cold hands. Odd, but a good sign – it meant we were compatible. I asked my water spirit ally whether she would transfer her connections into the new stone and there was a whoosh of swirling energy around my head as the transfer took place. This was obviously a better place to live!
I took the blue agate stone that I could find no use for and filled it with my own energy – experiences of this day, my feelings for this region, my memories of the place, my stories from a life lived here – and then I hurled the stone into the lake where it disappeared instantly, never to be seen again. It belonged to the lake itself now. We had exchanged energies. The lake spirits had given me one of their precious stones, and in return I had done the same. I like that – I like to be in balance, neither in debt nor owed anything.
That was all we had to do – to evoke memories and exchange spirits. Quite a beautiful experience amid the dramatic cloud, water and hills around.
Gwas – finding a new home for an old friend
