Your Baby Is A Dowsing Rod

root of the stick facing the sky. When water was near, the root would incline downwards. Dad showed me this with the dowsing rod he inherited from Elmer years later.
I guessed it made sense, using something that was living or once living, to point out the location of a life-giving substance. However, I was not expecting to have my 15 month old baby perform the same function on our trip to the Languedoc this summer.
We arrived in Carcassonne, France for an 11 day stay in Vernet-les-Bains at the foot of Mt. Canigo, sacred mountain of Catalonia. My plan was to visit as many of the portals in the Venus Magic Square as possible and experience the ancient energies. To be fair, my husband Tobias and son Espen, were there as the sherpas and general support team. I was on a mission, thanks to The Portal, a fascinating book of personal initiation by Patrice Chaplin.


As we left the cave, Espen began waving "good-bye" and smiling like crazy. He only does this when actual humans that he knows and loves are staying behind. I can assure you we were quite alone. He waved all the way down the path until the entrance was out of sight. "Who are you waving at Espen?" I asked, wishing he could speak. He laughed at me and continued to gleefully wave so I waved too-it only seemed polite.
The next dowsing occurred on Mt. Canigo itself. This was arguably the Portal of Portals, site of initiation and freedom. It was a climb. The track holds to the side of ridges laced together to the summit with nothing but granite on one side and air on the other. So of course we took our baby. Feel free to email me privately if you'd like to rant about the parental judgement on this one. Espen however, is an Aries and very much a little climber, so when we released him for a short break, he took off across the alpine meadow, straight for the snowfield and death defying drop down the mountain. I believe he intended to scale Canigo unaided.
Needless to say, the tyke usually loves being in his litter, squired about by Tobias, but on this ascent, he screamed every step of the way unless we provided raisins every five paces-the distance required for him to chew and swallow.

We reached the summit intact though our nerves were somewhat flayed. As soon as we touched the peak, Espen became calm and serene. The Catalan flag snapped bravely in the gale, bundles of sticks for Feux de la St. Jean still unlit at the base of the iron cross. Young Wesp did not want to leave. He bowed down to the sticks and clambered over the rocks, patting each one like old friends. We had to pry his paws off the stone to descend. He slept the entire way down.
As for me, I was busy watching Espen at most of the portals after we found them, so I can't give you a huge read on my dowsing discoveries. The proverbial canary in the coal mine kept popping to mind, so I kept a close eye on him.

Whoever said children should be seen and not heard cut off a hugely interesting source of information and learning. Not that I am advocating child exploitation for the spiritually curious, I'm just saying, pay attention to the little ones. They see things we don't. They heard things we can't. They are closer to the spirit world than adults are and can teach us about who we were and who we will be when we die.
It may not be the 1960's anymore, but dowsers and children are still around and still full of perspectives that can enrich our lives if we let ourselves respect their knowing. One day, I hope to be invited to the realm of The Unseen by my son and that I have the courage and grace to say thank you and accept.
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