“Wherever you are, go to a place where there is water and acknowledge it as giving life. Acknowledge it as being precious. Acknowledge it as being sacred.”
– Grandmother Mona Polacca (Havasupi/Tewa/Hopi)
In the middle of summer, water becomes more visible, more cherished - to me for sure, probably also for most New York City dwellers, and perhaps to a majority of US citizens. One day in late spring, when I had forgotten to bring my own reusable bottle to Manhattan for a gathering of friends at the Baha'i Center, one of the friends offered a drink from her water bottle. I was pleasantly surprised. In these post-COVID days, sharing utensils with folks outside your immediate family is not common. If you know me, you know I rarely refuse anything offered in sincerity, so I took a sip. The water tasted great! It was so refreshing that I asked how she filtered her water. She explained that she had been looking for a plastic-free water filter for a long time, and had recently started using charcoal, which she bought from a special store.
I resolved to try the charcoal myself, and I've been using it for a month. Another way I've been trying to contribute to reducing and recycling plastic, mainly for the good of our water sources, is to recycle plastic film and other plastic wrappers. I've been using a recycling service called Ridwell. Ridwell started as a neighbor-pickup project with a family in Seattle. I think I learned about it on Facebook. It is staggering how quickly the Ridwell bags fill up with plastic that would normally go down the trash chute in my apartment building.
How much plastic do you throw away? Does your city help you recycle plastic bottles and other plastic waste? Do you know where that plastic ends up?
This is Grandmother Mona Polacca inviting you to notice and honor the water wherever you are, on Saturday, August 8th (2026). I'm planning to go to Glen Island to do just that. A dear friend recently cycled there for the first time, and we're hoping to meet up with her.
A Water Prayer
To the Creator and the Waters:
Grandfather, Grandmother, Creator, we thank you for the sacred gift of water.
We thank the rivers, the lakes, the rains, and the deep ocean currents for carrying the lifeblood of our Mother Earth.
Forgive us for our forgetfulness and our harm.
Give us the strength, voice, and wisdom to stand as true protectors of the life-giving stream.
May the water run pure, may the generations to come never thirst, and may we remember that we are all connected through the water.
Miigwech, Aho**
**Google says Miigwech means Thank you in Anishinaabemowin/Ojibwe, and Aho means I agree, Amen, or it is well (Lakota / Kiowa / Pan-Indian)**
Being a water sign (Cancer, the Crab) and having grown up on an island known as the land of wood and water, I feel drawn to watery pursuits. I like to sweat and to cry, to swim, to sip tea, and to drink soup. When trouble troubles me, I am prone to flowing around the obstacles and objections in my path. Like water, I cannot hold on to anger.
At work, I've been reflecting on what makes a good companion. For context, my colleagues and I are planning a new initiative to support the students in our Certificate Program. We've recruited volunteers from among our amazing graduates to serve as companions to small groups of students. With the help of the alumni, we're defining a companion as a listener, encourager, and asker of thoughtful questions; one who shares their own experience when appropriate, and who notices and celebrates progress.
That last characteristic, it seems to me, is a watery one. It requires an attitude of forgiving and forgetting the inevitable missteps we all make, because progress is usually slow and hard to discern. It means moving alongside the one being accompanied. Not forging ahead and leaving them behind because they're too slow... and not dropping out of the conversation because they're going too fast. It means being present and accommodating to their pace. Cooling them down when they are hot, warming them up when they are cold.
"May we remember that we are all connected through the water."
This conversation in my head about water reminded me of a line from the Tablet of Ahmad - a prayer I memorized when I first became a Baha'i. It goes like this:
“Be thou as a flame of fire to My enemies and a river of life eternal to My loved ones, and be not of those who doubt.”
The recipient of this prayer by Baha'u'llah, prophet-founder of the Baha'i Faith, was a believer named Ahmad who was facing intense tests and persecution. Becoming more and more like a river of life eternal is an excellent goal, and one I affirm and embrace as I endeavor to serve and accompany the students at Wilmette Institute, but I've often wondered what it would look like to be a flame of fire...? How can one be fire and water at the same time?
It has been suggested that being a "flame of fire" doesn't mean acting with malice or violence toward enemies. Instead, it means standing so unwavering in love for God that your radical truth and steadfastness naturally consume or expose their falsehood.
Happy summer, dear readers! A new semester is starting soon. I am taking two courses at two different institutions, and I am certain that this will inspire more regular musings in this space. Feel free to let me know how you are doing on Facebook, or wherever else you may see me flowing 🎶💓