Confessions of a libra

Chosen | Credit: Here

12.06.25

Water has always looked out for me. I come from a lineage of water spirits. I also have past life connection to the water myself. These are things I know now, with the benefit of divination and hindsight. When I was a child, I always felt a mixture of respect for bodies of water and a want to merge. I was placed in swimming lessons pretty young and I took to it, like my mother before me. Like a duck to water, some would say. I wasn’t the best or the strongest, but I was still a natural. There was a moment in my childhood that should have changed everything for me. It should have been a block in my mind marring every experience in the water. Spirit says now that it was an initiation into remembrance. I did what few could. I alchemised this experience.

We are at school, at our scheduled swim time. We’ve done some beginner laps in the lap closest to the wall. The teacher offers those who feel strong enough to swim toward the middle of the deep end. She trusts us to know when we are ready. A girl I admire puts her hand up. We are very similar in stature, height, intelligence and overall multi-talented-ness. I have been teetering but her confidence spurs my own. Surely I’m ready. I mostly swim without stopping anyway, I reason with myself.

She goes ahead of me. The teacher says I can dive when she reaches the middle. When it’s my turn, I dive. It’s freestyle, it’s smooth and I’m doing it at a good pace. All of a sudden I’m moving slower. I feel the fatigue in my limbs. Suddenly those other laps feel like they might have compounded. I look up and I’m about halfway. It’s too far for me to go before I have a break. I remember that I’m great at swimming, and shit at treading water. I feel myself give in and give up. Maybe this was silly.

I don’t want to die, but I physically can’t keep pushing. I feel myself sink. There may have been noise, I assume as the children and teacher would have all been shouting. All I remember with stark clarity is the sun streaming through the water. It looks beautiful, I remember thinking. If I’m going to die, I would be dying to a gorgeous backdrop. My teacher dives in and it looks angelic. Almost slow mo. The air is escaping my lungs. I breathe in water through my nostrils. She reaches me and drags me up with her.

You would expect that incident to have stopped my swimming career. It never did. Now, let’s introduce the other part of the lore. Zimbabwe has strong beliefs in water spirits (including nymphs) or njuzu which are mermaids. The lore sends cold shivers down the spine of those who tell the stories and those who hear them. I was always obsessed with stories of njuzu but struggled to have the adults talk to me about it. Often when they did, it was in the dark of night with a cautionary edge to their voice. I would listen, sitting on the ground hugging my legs to me. Wondering why I was continually asking about things that terrify me like I don’t like having a peaceful night’s rest.

Despite Zimbabwe being landlocked, that has never affected our beliefs in the magic that comes with water. A famous site that has water spirits is the Chinhoyi Caves which you can look up on Google. The water is an ethereal blue and houses the spirits of tribal members drowned during conflict. I grew up on tales of the water choosing its children. Whether they like it or not, whether they are ready or not. The real danger lied in innocently going to a body of water, touching it in some way or playing in it – and invoking the spirits with your arrival. Being near water or around water always gave me flashes of images of someone grabbing me by the ankle. I have often had dreams where I was being pulled further down into the ocean.

My first time going to a beach in Australia, I felt the pull and the sheer power of the water. I still feel the frequency when I stand at the shore overlooking the ocean. I can just stare at it and never get over the wonder that overcomes me. As a teenager two things ramped up; I was consistently doing swimming lessons, I began reading more novels about mermaids and I got more dreams of me being in the water.

I found the Western stories of mermaids to be a lot more forgiving. A lot more Disney compared to our Grimm fairytale-esque folktales about mermaids. There was a lot of overlap where beauty, allure and prestige was concerned. But in my culture, mermaids operate with a strong code. They initiate chosen humans into becoming traditional healers by stealing them and keeping them for training. They teach them about the usage of different herbs while taking them through rigorous tests. These tests are all about checking one’s morality and the level of respect you have in their turf.

In my dreams sometimes I would come to, while swimming and realise I could breathe. Other times I would be swimming likely with other beings and feel a tail. Other times I would be interacting with beings that I felt belonged in this home. When the dreams first came, they scared me. They felt too real and too much like the teen novels I was reading of special girls with secret mermaid DNA. I often awoke with my heart in a sprint, breathing heavily and unsure if I could go back to sleep with the light off. My fear of being abducted by the mermaids carried well into adulthood. It wasn’t something I voiced to many people, but it always simmered beneath the surface.

It’s funny when I think about how much water means to me. For all the so-called terror I never let anything stand in the way of me enjoying swimming. Not the drowning, not the potential that I might have a tornado sent by the river spirits to whisk me away to the nearest body of water (a real part of the folklore). When I am in the water, I feel fluid – from my dive to the glide. Joy radiates from my very cells in the water. I love gliding, and I often feel more myself. More centred. So many nights in my twenties, Weneiya and I have gone to the beach to observe its wonder. We have smoked by the beach, collected moon water, gave offerings to the spirits and always shown immense respect. The ocean demands it, in its vastness and intelligence.

I believe now that my fear of being taken by njuzu likely stems from past lives where that occurred. When I went swimming on Monday with my Leo bestie, I was reminded how much I am at one with the water. How much water heals me. Brings me to life. Makes life worth living. I believe I enchant people when I’m in the water because we amplify each other’s frequency (me and the water itself).

I went to Physiotherapy the other day and was asked to stand on a cylinder, balance on it while in the pool, then roll it forward with my legs. The point was to walk back and forth across the pool in this way. At first I doubted my abilities. But soon I was in flow. I was rolling the cylinder under me and using my arms to propel me forward. As I was gliding along, I was singing right into the water. I envisaged myself releasing healing frequencies from my vocal chords into the water, that would extend to the other patients around me. I felt the energy in the room shift. I felt their eyes watching me. I continued because it felt good. Because it felt natural.

I speak to water before I drink it sometimes just to remind myself how much water holds memory. Water magic is some of my favourite magic to perform because of how effective and quick the results are. For so long, I felt that there was more to my existence. I felt like a secret would be revealed like in Princess Diaries or H2O, and I would no longer be living a normal life. Maybe that time has come. Maybe this is the era of my life where magic isn’t a daydream, or a nightmare.

With everyday I feel more and more like I belong to forces greater than us all, and not as a visitor. I feel like an Interdimensional traveller who has collected enough friends along the way, to make this life a little more charmed. May your next visit to a river or a beach be a little more conscious of the magnitude.