THINGS I GAVE THE WATER

“Things I Gave the Water” is a song of past lives, of reclaiming the self after lifetimes of persecution. It carries the echoes of lightworkers who were corrected, silenced, and shaped into something other than their true medicine. But now, we unlearn. We break free. We remember who we have always been. When we stand in our truth—especially in the places we were told we could not—our world begins to heal too. This song comes from a place of awakening—a journey where I’ve carried memories of past lives since I was a child. Those fragments of ancient wisdom have always been with me, like echoes of another time. It’s the experience of knowing things you shouldn’t, remembering things you can’t explain, and being expected to act as if you don’t know what you know. 🌙

Some of my most favourite movies/series (apart from The Lord Of The Rings and Tudors and all that jazz) have been The Last Kingdom, Outlander and Vikings.

The aesthetic of these works was something I wanted to borrow a tiny bit of in terms of colouring for my new music video “Things I Gave The Water”. The blueish hues with the earthy browns - but I didn’t want it as dark - the light will always be the force I put front and center.

It is true that a song can go any direction depending on how you direct a music video. You can have celtic drums but tie the song in the audience’s mind in a modern context depending on the visual depiction of the music.

Here I wanted to take us back in time but still being me and my authentic journey as a modern woman who loves being feminine and fierce, a child of nature who loves long robes and dresses with long arms. The black colour as a representation of the water element which in the alchemical Great Work is the force that purifies and heals, washes away sin and trauma. While borrowing sounds from a palette that feels ancient and echoes in us all like a thread that connects us independently of true heritage and background. The power and magic that make a moment epic yet ethereal, which is also up there for me as an aesthetic together with the Light/Life Force. Can one be an ethereal truth warrior that doesn’t fear to sing her stories? I’d like to think of myself in such capacity.

The location was truly a place of magic, the consciousness of water was everywhere. These stones were nothing but sand from the river below. The mineral and elemental kingdom greeting the visitor with a whisper so subtle you’d stand quiet as a grave and still could almost miss it. 🧿💙🏰✨⚔️🪽

This song carries the echoes of all the lightworkers silenced through the ages. I have always been a spiritual being, yet I have never resonated with organized religion—its rigid structures too often seek to suppress the Life Impulse for the sake of control.

At the start of the video, the protagonist clings to an altar carved into the stone wall—a symbol of the inherited consciousness she was shaped by. Yet, she does not find herself within it. This external God of judgment, the weight of imposed beliefs, the endless striving to be enough in a world that demands submission—none of it nourishes her soul. She bends her head, she pleads, but the answer is always silence.

Still, even in doubt, there is revelation. In that solitude, she finds the space to remember that the Divine truly lives within ourselves/herself. She loosens her grip. She lets go of the false altars of this world. And in surrendering the false, she rises into the light she has always known was hers.

The medieval fortress we filmed in holds its own echoes of the Dark Ages—a time when the true light of Christ/Sophia Consciousness was distorted, replaced with fear, suffering, and silencing. A time when to be fully oneself was to risk persecution. In reclaiming my own spirituality, I reclaim something far greater—something that was never lost, only buried beneath centuries of fear.

This is a chapter of TIGTW that is deeply personal to me.

The weight of years… A lighthouse drowning…

These words in the song speak of paradox. How can a lighthouse drown? Isn’t it meant to stand unwavering, guiding the lost even in the fiercest storms? And yet, for years, I felt like one—my light drained, my purpose twisted, left not to guide, but to seek rescue.

But even lighthouses can find themselves swallowed by the sea. And that’s okay. The only way out is through—through the winds, through the tides, through the breaking. And now, the waves answer to me.

I re-emerge, steady and sovereign, no longer mistaking the storm for the enemy. It was never the raging sea that dimmed my light, but those who sought shelter near me yet despised my glow—those who crept inside, tampering with my inner workings, silencing my beam because it disturbed their slumber.

A lighthouse is meant to shine. If you fear the light, don’t build your home beside one. It’s that simple.

“Now I see—it’s the wolf deep inside of me, the monster in your dreams...”

The wolf has called to me since childhood, a spirit of untamed freedom, of sovereignty beyond control. To embody the wolf is to walk a path that many fear—to refuse to be tamed, to choose true living over mere survival.

These words in the song were born from the realization that choosing sovereignty often leads to demonization. Society cries wolf at those who refuse to conform, casting them as the threat, the outcast, the danger—when in truth, it is their own lack of integrity they fear.

The wolf moves with reverence among its pack, where each member is honored, valued, and essential. But in a world that does not recognize this sacred balance, the wolf is seen only as a monster.

I carry the wolf within me. It does not seek to harm, but if provoked, it will bite. That does not make it a beast—it simply means it knows its power. Those who walk with the wolf spirit will always unsettle those who remain asleep, for sovereignty is a light that exposes all that is false.

The wolf is not the enemy. It simply seeks its rightful place among those who honor its truth. And if no such place exists, then it will walk alone—unbound, unbroken, and forever free.

All my love,

Elina Auriel