As National Indigenous Peoples Day is celebrated in June, we reached out to watershed friend and ally, Alyssa Belanger-Haig, to write a guest post for our monthly blog. Alyssa is from rural NE Alberta, where she was raised alongside the bogs and blueberries. She recently returned to her home town to help her children learn and grow from the land in the same ways she was able to do. As a nehiyaw (cree) woman with mixed ancestry, Alyssa has learned to weave Indigenous ways of knowing and understanding with western scientific perspectives throughout her career. Alyssa has spent her career primarily as an educator, working to support people in building connections and understanding with the natural world, and creating opportunities for learning and exploration for all ages.
There's something incredibly comforting about water, isn't there? When my oldest child was just a tiny little thing he sometimes had a hard time calming down. I'd find myself standing with him in the baby carrier on our front porch while it rained, or in the bathroom with the shower running, or dipping his toes in the lake. There was something about the water that could calm him better than almost anything else. We come from water, our first homes where we grew were in water, it is a vital part of all our stories and our identities in nehiyaw (Cree) culture.
For a long time, I didn't understand what it means to build a connection to water. For years, water was just... there. A necessity for life, a backdrop for a nice photo, or a place to cool off on a hot day. I appreciated its beauty, sure, but I didn't feel it in my bones. That started to change when one of my aunties asked me if I'd ever introduced myself to the water. We were camping on this gorgeous little lake, just north of Lac La Biche, she told me to sit down, wash my hands and basically smudge myself with the water. Hands, hair, eyes, nose, mouth, heart, on and on. To give the water what I was holding, because as we all know we feel lighter when we float. I made a conscious effort to slow down and truly be with water, in that moment and every time I travel. I greet the water like an old friend, thank it for all it does, and introduce myself before setting up camp or hitting the trail.
It's interesting what you notice when you actually look; the tiny ripples created by a dragonfly landing on the surface of the pond or the way the light danced on the water's edge at sunset. I've always lived near some kind of water, first Lac la Biche lake, then the Battle River, The North Saskatchewan River, Columbia River, Kootenay Lakes, and back again to my roots. There's a particular peace that settles over you when you allow yourself to be completely present with the water. It’s a feeling of being both incredibly small and utterly connected to something vast and ancient; something I am teaching both my children to be a part of.
I'm sure many of us have heard the phrase ‘Water is life’ and while it's deeply true, have you ever stopped and thought about what water actually means to you? Beyond thirst, what role does it play in your life?
Is it the thrill of riding a gentle wave, letting the spray of a sprinkler cool me down on a hot afternoon, a walk to gather some before boiling it to drink– these moments aren't just refreshing; they're moments of connection, to the land, the water, and to ourselves.
And it’s not just about grand gestures. It's in the small things too. The way I now appreciate a simple glass of water on a hot day, acknowledging how lucky I am to have it clean and fresh at my fingertips when so many do not, and feeling its life-giving properties. The calm I find in listening to the rain fall, knowing it nourishes the earth. These seemingly insignificant interactions have woven themselves into the fabric of my daily life, bringing a subtle but profound sense of peace.
Building a connection to water is about opening yourself up to its presence, allowing yourself to feel its embrace, and recognizing its vital role in everything around us, and within us. It's a journey of mindfulness, appreciation, and a little bit of childlike wonder.
If you haven't already, I encourage you to take a moment to truly connect with water. Dip your toes in a stream, listen to the rain, or simply hold a glass of water and appreciate its clarity. You might just be surprised by the gentle, endearing connection you find, and if you're anything like my kids, hopefully, you find a moment of peace in its presence!