I believe the underground waters of the world represent the deep psyche of society and of ourselves. For highly sensitive people, these waters are often familiar terrain. Whether consciously or not, many of us naturally feel the emotional undercurrents of a situation. We're constantly reading the room and attuning to what’s unspoken, which is, in essence, working with the underground waters.
This ability to sense beneath the surface is an incredible gift, especially now. It allows us to access the collective unconscious and bring forward what is most needed in these times. If we recognize that we are in a collective void space, we also recognize the potential within it: a fertile vacuum where new possibilities can take shape. When we attune to the underground river, we touch the mysteries of the soul, the threads that connect us all, and the seeds of the culture to come.
By entering this void space and tuning into our heightened sensitivity, even when it feels uncomfortable or counterintuitive, we begin to perceive the underlying unity that connects all beings. The underground waters serve as both mirror and guide, inviting us to ask: What is happening beneath the surface? Which narratives are truly mine, and which have been borrowed from outside influences that no longer serve my path?
This requires a return to instinct and embodied listening. It's an invitation to tune into the senses, open our inner ears and eyes, and allow ourselves to be receptive. Sensitivity is not a weakness; it is the key to creating what longs to be born. In this way, we begin to access what I call moonlight vision — subtle, intuitive knowing that comes piece by piece, like reflections on water at night. Moonlight vision asks for patience, for gathering fragments over time, and for befriending the mystery instead of demanding immediate clarity. One of the most powerful ways to cultivate this vision is through plant-spirit connection.
