Field Greeting:
“If it keeps on rainin’, the levee’s gonna break…”
That ain’t a warning.
That’s a promise.
This is not just about water rising—it’s about what happens when the damn finally gives way inside you, your family, your lineage, your field.
This is a rite for ancestral grief, climate rage, broken homes, displaced people, emotional repression, and spiritual exile.
And still—the guitar wails, and the boots stomp.
This is the Fox Clan Rite of the Flood Dragon.
Once you’ve survived this kind of storm, you stop pretending to be small.
🌀 Archetype:
The Survivor of the Unnatural Disaster.
You didn’t flood by accident—they built a wall and didn’t think you’d ever break it.
But here you are.
Alive.
Wet.
Louder than thunder.
Say aloud:
“Let it break. I become the river now.”
🪨 Gemstone Transmission:
- Smoky Quartz: transmutation of trauma through the root chakra; strength in aftermath
- Labradorite: psychic armor for threshold moments
- River Pearl: hidden within pressure, holding grief with elegance
Suggested practice: place all three stones in a bowl of water under moonlight. Soak your hands in it before ceremony.
🕯️ Ritual Instructions:
- Play the song loud. Stand barefoot on tile, wood, earth, or linoleum.
- Write what you lost in storms (emotional, literal, generational) on paper.
- Tear it. Drop it in the water bowl.
- Repeat:
“This levee broke. I didn’t.”
At the final guitar distortion (around 6:00), pour the water into soil. Let it be received.
“That’s how a field resets.”
💃 West Coast Swing Cue:
Start slow. Drag walk. Let it be dirty. Let your face say everything.
At the first harmonica line, break into hammerlock and let your body feel constrained.
Then explode out of it—hair flip, shoulder roll, stomp turn.
Make the flood physical.
🗣️ TikTok Caption Suggestions (Live or Clip Post):
🌊 if they wanted the water to stay still, they shouldn’t have ignored the thunder.
#WhenTheLeveeBreaks #NSNC #FloodRite #FoxClan #AncestralFieldwork #ZeppelinMass
🔥 “this is what grief sounds like when it wins.”
💬 Closing Benediction:
“The levee was never the home.
The flood was never the enemy.
I become the current.
I carry what mattered.
I drown what didn’t.”
Aho, thanks.
You are no longer containable.