(The sacred grove and well in my garden)

The Girl, the Well
and the Water

"Not only the thirsty seek the water,
the water as well seeks the thirsty.” - Rumi

A true story.

(My garden grove)

(Dusty and Chip)

Ah, dear friend,Thank you for stopping by.
Here is my little origin story about the springs and the wells.Why I Sit by the WaterI am often asked: "Julie, what is it with you and water?"The honest answer is, I don't chase the water.The water chases me.People ask, “what are you actually doing when you sit beside holy wells for hours?” often in the freezing cold or the dark of the night.The truth is,I am...“plugging back in.”A holy well isn't just a pretty historic site to me.It is …a refuelling place.Sitting there feels a bit like putting a mobile phone into a docking station.The noise of the world fades away,my connection lights up,my internal battery first red,and then gradually fills back to green.I am fully charged again.The Girl in the Spring
[Insert Photo: Grainy black & white photo of Dusty and Chip]When I was about ten years old, growing up in the rainy foothills of the Brecon Beacons in Wales. I used to do this "weird" thing.Or at least,
I thought it was weird
looking back as an adult.At the time,
it just felt like breathing.I would cycle out alone to a spot a couple of miles from where I lived.I know now it was a liminal place, a place in the in-between.Truth be told,
I don’t remember what I was thinking.I only know I raced there on my bike.The wind rushing in my ears,Dusty and Chip my faithful doggy companions sprinting gaily alongside me.We flew down the country lane,me pedalling as fast as I could …dogs, tails wagging,weaving in and out of each other as they raced with me.I didn’t ride,I charged …like I was chasing joy itself.Until just like that …the road came to an abrupt end.Go no further.Jumping off,
I perched my bike against a friendly tree,and scrambled down the grassy bank to the rushing spring pools below.It was a series of pools in bowl shapes,with small cascading waterfalls linking them.Stripping down to my swimming costume,I would wade right in, and ‘plonk myself down in the cool
clear
water.Sitting up to my waist in that pool...Just me,the sound of the water,and the trees, like a vast towering cathedral towering over me, protecting me whilst I sat.my two compadres Dusty and Chip, snuffling about in the embankment.Me,just sitting …I didn't know then that I was sitting in a liminal space.I didn't know I was performing my own initiation.I just knew,I needed to be in the water.I felt better in the water.I felt “home” in the water.For a long time, I looked back and thought: what on earth was I doing there on my own?I mean,it was a different time; we roamed free in a way children rarely do today.But even by those standards,I wondered why I did it.🌿Now I understand.

(St Dyfnogs Well)

The Landlord’s Understatement:Years later, I opened a healing centre.The address was "Springs," which should have been a clue, but I was busy with business.On moving day, the landlord casually pointed a thumb over his shoulder."Oh," he said. "You might like the well across the road."I trundled across the road expecting a garden ornament.Instead, I found St Dyfnog’s Well, an ancient, moss-lined plunge pool hidden behind the church with the famed Jesse window.I stood there staring at the water,
and for the first time, I realized:I’m not finding these places.They are finding me!I had no idea it was there, yet it was straight across the road from my tiny, cute healing centre.

(me during one of my freezing nighttime vigils at Lourdes in Winter)

The Midnight VigilThat realisation led me to my Lourdes adventures.I am not a Catholic, so I didn't go for the services.I went because a young girl named Bernadette dug in the mud and water sprang up, over seen by the Holy Mother.I used to sit at the Grotto at midnight, wrapped up against the freezing winter cold.We would go just before Christmas when the town was shut and the tourists had left.Just me and my guardian guarding me and keeping me safe for my holy escapades, and the nuns.Like me, they were drawn there to the peace, and love of the quiet time of night.the air was thick with Presence, it was so powerful, but not stagnant but moving,and flowing,yes it was literally freezing, but I felt held…it’s difficult to describe …I sat for hours during the night, back against the holy grotto with the sound of the water echoing in the cave.In that frozen silence, I learned that water doesn't care about your religion.It just offers itself to anyone who is ‘thirsty. ’In the same way the Holy Mother of Lourdes does too.Sŵn-y-DŵrFor a long time, I wondered where this pull came from.Over the years, I understood something was bringing me to these sacred places; I had never gone looking for them, they just kept ‘appearing’ in my life, often under very ‘odd’ circumstances.I eventually had my wedding blessing ceremony at The Chalice Well in Glastonbury, with my feet in the cold September flowing spring water.A few years ago, I was poking through my mother’s jewellery box with her.Inside on the cream velvet cushion sat the thin gold bracelet I remember her wearing every day.I picked it up and saw something on the inside,
peering closer,
an inscription!How had I never noticed it before?[Insert Photo: Close up of the Bracelet inscription]Squinting, I could see it was in Welsh,
in italics...“Sŵn-y-Dŵr”,I read out loud …"The Sound of Water,"Mum immediately said.She couldn't remember why she had it engraved … sadly, she is living with ALS …but she said it so clearly:"The sound of water!"Seeing those tiny words that had been hidden against her pulse every day for all those years,gave me goosebumps.To me, it was confirmation that this path, this Village, these wells, this listening, … is in my Soul.It runs through my veins,and now, I was shown,
it runs through my mum’s too.What did it all mean?Why had my mum a bracelet that she never took off, inscribed with the Sound of Water?The Well in the GardenToday, I don't have to cycle to the springs.I live with a massive, ancient well in my own garden (3 x 2 metres of deep, deep water).It’s another liminal place,my sacred grove. It always seems to be the way at these old ancient wells;they are a place between worlds,
where the veil is thin...They are where I feel the most peace, and the most … belonging.I could say a lot more, but that is a story for another day.My well is surrounded by trees, as you can see in the photographs.Now, I take my coffee in my dressing gown and wander there in the mornings, mostly in the summer.I sit and watch the darting wrens and the busy blue tits, this time with Maple, Blossom, and Willow beside me.It’s nice to be so private, sitting in the grove of trees.I didn't "learn" to be spiritual from a book.*I remembered it through the water.I think if you have read this far, that’s likely to be you too,
perhaps nature has always called you too.Sitting in the water alone in that other worldly place as a child, was where my spiritual journey began.I always walked with a foot in both worlds.Sitting in the water, or nowadays beside the well is a bit like E.T ‘phoning home’ (laughs).I have many stories of the ancient springs; these are just a few I thought you might like me to share.Dearest, may you find your own well-springs, whatever that means to you.Blessings from the Sacred Spring Well,
Julie 🕊️(Maple, Blossom, and Willow enjoying the Spring morning peace in the grove)💫

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The Water Bearer BlessingDearest, If you have a wish that feels too heavy to carry alone, let me take it to the water on your behalf.How it works:
You send me your intention/wishI will physically take it to my ancient well in my Sacred Grove. See photographs.I will sit with it, hold space for you, and after send you a personal audio recording from the water's edge.Note: I take this to my well on your behalf.I have been a distant healer for over 25 years.Exchange: £25

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