Someone the other day asked me why I used water from the tap and not distilled water to make medicine.
The water, that gives itself freely from my tap, comes from a well. A container of stone that glitters with crystals, as do the rocky hill that surround my home. It is old water. Clean water. Water that fills me with a song. A song who's words I no longer recall but my bones sing.
Some call distilled water denatured. Why would I use denatured water to make the medicine that passes through my hands. Others say, distilled water is hungry. Its hunger is greedy for the medicine in plants. Why would I offer medicine made with greedy, hungry water? Is there not enough greed?
The water from my tap, from the well, is fine. It is perfect as it ever was. And its no bought in a drug store in a plastic bottle.