Listening to the Water Within Me

Trauma doesn’t just live in memory.
It lives in the body.
In the breath.
In the nervous system.
And in the water that makes up most of who we are.

Lately, my recovery has taken me into Māori health practices receiving mirimiri, slowing right down, learning to listen instead of pushing and reconnecting with ways of healing that feel ancient, grounded, and deeply respectful of the body.

Through this journey, I’ve been learning about water consciousness the understanding that water isn’t just physical matter.
It holds energy.
Memory.
Mauri (life force).
It responds to intention, presence, and safety.

At first, I didn’t try to analyse it.
I just stayed open.

One day, I was asked to hold a small dish of water.
Nothing ceremonial.
Nothing dramatic.
Just to hold it, breathe, and focus.

As I did, the water moved.

Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just… shifted.

Later, that water was placed in the freezer.
When I saw it again, I was honestly stunned.

The energy wasn’t centred it sat slightly to one side.
And within it, a shape had formed.

A leaf.

I didn’t rush to interpret it.
But a leaf can mean many things growth, change, release, cycles ending and beginning, new seasons of life.

What stayed with me most wasn’t the image.
It was the feeling.

My body had responded before my mind did.

Trauma teaches us to disconnect from our bodies.
To override our signals.
To survive instead of feel.

Healing does the opposite.
It brings us back into relationship with ourselves.

Through mirimiri, intentional touch, breath, and presence, I’m learning that healing isn’t forceful.
It’s gentle.
It’s subtle.
It’s quiet.

It happens in the moments where safety returns to the body.
Where the nervous system softens.
Where the water within us begins to move again.

I’m not trying to prove water consciousness.
I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything.

I’m simply paying attention.

To what my body feels.
To what shifts.
To what softens.
To what flows again.

Sometimes recovery isn’t about becoming stronger.
Sometimes it’s about becoming softer.

About listening instead of controlling.
Trusting instead of forcing.
And honouring the intelligence of a body that has survived so much and is now learning how to heal.