Thanks to my niece Bridgid Roney for sharing this story of her encounter with an ancient water spirit. Read on:
Years ago, I carried my infant down a secret forest path from the cliffs of Tulalip down to the bay. In those days, I had no money, no car and nothing much to do but wander the rocky shore. I used to approach this trail with hungry eyes, resenting the fact I was stuck there, yet intrigued that I had landed in such a magical place. Last week I revisited this place. My life is much different now. I have a full belly, healthy children, and a car with a full tank of gas. As I approached the sea, I felt as if I was coming to meet an old friend, in a ceremony of acknowledgement and respect.
I sat on one of the many inviting driftwood logs and stared out at calm waters, the peninsula in the distance, fluffy clouds, and soaring eagles. It was good to be back: strong, healthy and appreciative. Breathing deeply and taking it all in, I became aware of a large, towering figure in my mind's eye. A vibrant grandmother sort of being, rooted in the Puget Sound, her head 100 feet into the sky.
I saw her, she saw me. I heard a deep melody coming from her and I was humbled. A singer myself, I attempted to parrot back her song. Doing so gave me a strange feeling.... a bit like an accidental trespassing. She didn't seem pleased or encouraging of it. So, I stopped and contemplated. I asked for guidance on how to respond. The grandmother stood with patience. I don't know where it came from- but I suspect it was my own guiding musical spirit who gave me a higher song, completely different from the one I had just heard. I was called to pick up two rocks from the beach (I had asked for rocks to bring home before, but never felt permission to take them). I clicked the rocks together in a cheerful rhythm while singing the higher song I had just heard. The grandmother seemed to smile down at me and sway gently. When I was done, I felt that I had begun something of a mutual relationship with an eternal being.
I told an Indigenous friend about this experience, and she said, "Oh you met Nibi!" Nibi is the feminine spirit of water. I hadn't learned about her before. I then recounted to her that I heard her song and had difficulty singing it back. She didn't seem troubled about it- she told me it's customary for different tribes to greet each other in their own language, but not to use the language of the person they are greeting. So Nibi wanted me to sing my own song, I thought.
After a lifetime of grueling work to prove myself worthy of a grade, a job, a friendship, a seat at the table, respect for my very being- it’s much simpler now. Nibi wanted to hear my song. I didn't come to her with everything figured out- I'm not done with the trials of raising children, making a life with my partner, and honing my contributions to the world. But I did come to her with something I hadn't before- a calm sense of myself and enough serenity to be still and listen with gratitude. It wasn't until I approached the water in this way, that I could see this gorgeous ancient being who is so powerful and generous. Now that I know she is there, I will have a lifetime of devotion, lessons, and nourishment to share. And I know that my unique voice means something, however small it feels at times. Nibi likes it.