Show Me Yes

My L-rods made of steel wire with bamboo sleeves.

Unlike most projects, the idea I could walk into Home Depot, buy the few parts I needed for my L-rods and emerge just a couple of dollars lighter was appealing. I bought two 4-foot lengths of steel rod, about the same gauge as coat-hanger wire, and two 4-inch plastic couplings used for in-ground sprinkler systems. The couplings would be the sleeves I’d hold so the rods could swing freely. Total price, about four dollars.

(Okay, I confess the idea of the economical in-and-out trip to Home Depot was a pipe dream. I figured I needed something to help me bend the wire. I’d given away my only vise to a friend when we moved to Ohio in 2003. Of course Home Depot has some good vises, and I needed one that could swivel. Oh, and the one with the attached anvil would be especially nice. So in actuality I walked out of Home Depot thirtysomething dollars lighter.)

A More Natural Sleeve

Once home, something caught my eye. Our Oregon house has a substantial stand of bamboo behind it. A weathered shaft of the plant – just under an inch in diameter – was lying on the front porch. I decided to make the L-rod sleeves from the bamboo instead of the plastic couplings. More natural, more organic, closer to the earth.

I went to my basement workshop and measured two pieces of steel rod, each 16 inches long. I cut them and put them into the vise, bending each at a 90-degree angle to leave about four inches for the L-rod handle.

(Speaking of 90 degrees, that’s what it’s been here at midday lately and our cooling system has been doing double-duty. Its condensation has formed a tiny pond on the basement floor with a slow trickle creeping toward the drain. Keep this in mind.)

With the steel rods cut to length and bent at the right angle, I hollowed out two five-inch shafts of bamboo for the sleeves. I inserted the rods into the sleeves and made sure the rods could swing freely in all directions. At this point, I was set to go.

For Me, It’s Crossed Rods

One of the dowsing books I skimmed said to align my brain with my L-rods, by holding them properly and telling them: “Show me yes.” Eventually the rods would move to what would then be the mutually understood “yes” position.

In their book The Divining Heart, Patricia and Richard Wright describe “yes” as having the rods each move outward so each points to its respective side. Perhaps based on having watched Denny the Ohio dowser find my sewer line (See my post “L-Rods and a Search for a Sewer”) – using his L-rods that crossed each other instead of opening outwards – combined with something inside me, meant the idea of “yes” being rods swinging sideways simply didn’t feel right.

“Show me yes,” I said. 

I waited and watched, and then repeated, “Show me yes.”

Slowly the two rods moved inward until they crossed, one over the other.

I couldn’t believe it. The rods had responded to me.

“Show me yes,” I said again. And again they crossed.

“Show me no,” and they uncrossed by moving outward.

I was ecstatic. Then I glanced at the floor and saw the water that had seeped from the air conditioner. Without another thought, I walked forward with my L-rods poised. When I stepped into the water, the rods crossed by themselves. When I backed up, they uncrossed.

It worked. To me, the fact that I could see the water made no difference. It worked.

I have no idea exactly what “it” is, but my first steps as a dowser were a success.