Broken Earth Contracts: Water as Memory, Water as Medicine

I have recently returned home from nearly a month of travel—journeying from the power sites and sacred wells of Vézelay, France, to an ancestral medicine practitioner gathering in Madrid, to personal ancestral and land-based work in Wales, and finally to Beltane in Glastonbury.


As I reflect on this journey, I see how each thread has woven into a profound picture of what my soul is specifically attuned to bring into the world: a remembering that honors our origins, and also reckons with what has been broken or misinterpreted in ways that have contributed—significantly—to human suffering.


At the heart of this remembering is a simple but essential truth:
Our relationship with the spirits of the land requires conscious tending.


There was a pivotal moment in Spain when I visited the room of Goya’s Black Paintings.
Standing there, I felt a transmission—not just of artistic expression, but of something deeper: a reflection of how distorted or challenged nature spirit energies may have become entangled with human suffering, chaos, and war.


What arose for me was this:
The first contracts that were broken were those between humans and the land.


With those violations, something shifted. It felt as though certain forces—whether we understand them as spirits, fields, or intelligences—responded. Some may have turned toward retribution. Others may have become distorted. And some seem to have infiltrated the human psyche in ways that amplify destructive patterns we now enact upon both the Earth and one another.


Many of the places I visited are considered “power spots”—locations where ley lines are said to converge. One ley line in particular, stretching from Alexandria through Paris to Glastonbury (and beyond), felt especially present throughout my journey.


What struck me repeatedly is that these sites often contain ancient ruins that have been built over by churches. There are many dedications to St. Michael, along with mythologies of the archangel defeating serpents or dragons in these regions.


The intuitive sense I received is that these structures may have been part of an effort to interrupt or control the natural serpentine flow of energy within the land.


Interestingly, practices like Feng Shui include methods for redirecting or managing land energy through construction. This suggests that the idea of shaping energetic flow through architecture is not new—but raises questions about intention and impact.


As humans transitioned into agriculture and urban development—reshaping landscapes at scale—it seems likely that deeper agreements with the land were broken.


In my healing practice, I have witnessed how nature-based energies can move through the human system—particularly through meridians or kundalini pathways—and sometimes contribute to instability when not in right relationship.


In this light, Goya’s work began to feel like a depiction of collective imbalance: a kind of madness arising from long histories of abuse—both human and ecological—layered with unprocessed trauma.


During the practitioner gathering in Madrid, we engaged in collective ritual to support healing across multiple layers of the land’s history.


What became clear to me is that the earliest violations—those tied to human settlement and disconnection from the land—form a foundational layer. Without addressing this root, work on later layers cannot fully resolve the deeper distortions.


A few weeks before traveling to Europe, I was invited by a colleague to visit Indiana and Ohio. We went to the Serpent Mound, where I experienced something striking: a vortex of dense, almost toxic energy that seemed to spiral deep into the Earth.


I have encountered similar sites before, and I’ve come to feel that they may play a role in the planet’s larger “immune system”—places where imbalance is drawn deep into the earth to be processed.


This led me to explore the scientific concept of the deep water cycle. Researchers have discovered that roughly 400 miles beneath the Earth’s surface, water exists in crystalline form within a mineral called ringwoodite—held as hydroxyl (OH) ions rather than liquid. Some estimates suggest that this subterranean reservoir may contain more water than all the oceans combined.


This deep water is released through volcanic and tectonic activity.


What I began to sense is a relationship between this deep water system and sacred wells—like those in Vézelay, Glastonbury, and places such as Lourdes—where water emerges from deep within the Earth rather than from surface flow.


It felt as though these wells carry a kind of immune response—a transmission arising from deep within the planet in response to imbalance.


If certain sites act as collectors of distortion, perhaps these wells act as distributors of healing.


This led me to a personal theory:
The deep water layers of the Earth may function as an immune system for planetary consciousness—and sacred wells are conduits through which that intelligence is expressed.


Water, then, is not only life.

It is also regulation, communication, and healing.


Many ley lines appear to follow water or magma currents. And as consciousness on the planet becomes more strained or fragmented, these systems seem to respond.


I felt this especially strongly in Vézelay and at the Chalice Well in Glastonbury.


What continues to emerge for me is the understanding that:
Human consciousness co-arises with the land.


Our distortions both arise from—and reinforce—the distortions of the land’s consciousness. It is a feedback loop.


And yet, this also means that healing can move in both directions.


I have witnessed the impact of simple acts: building cairns, making offerings, singing to the land, or simply listening. These gestures do not need to be elaborate.


They are relational.


And in tending the land in these ways, we are also tending human consciousness.


We are living in a time of significant shifts—both planetary and human. Some may be reflected in astrological movements, such as Pluto in Aquarius, or in upcoming eclipses that interact with major energetic lines across the Earth like the one happening in Luxor, Egypt in August 2027.


But regardless of how we frame these changes, one thing feels clear:
The more we tend our relationship with the land, the less turbulent these transitions may become.


When we tell someone to “get grounded,” what we are often really asking is for them to re-enter relationship—with the Earth itself.


For me, this is where everything converges:
Care for the land and waters.
Relationship with nature spirits.
Healing of human consciousness.


All of it meets in the same place--
the tending of the living field we are part of.