I light candles and sing to my ancestors tonight, as the sun sets orange in the west...I sing to them so I can feel their love coursing in my blood, feel their warmth in the very marrow of my bones. My body is a cartography of stories, of lives lived, of people asking not to be forgotten.
Calling in the voices of all the strong women who came before me, who laid this path for me to follow. Those ones who worked so hard so that I might have this breath, these wild rivers of blood flowing through my veins. I feel them closely when I am doing the simple things, carrying up the firewood, gathering the eggs, stirring the saucepot, counting stitches on my needles, writing little notes to myself that perhaps will be read by some future curious eyes. I make renewed commitment through my hands, my heart, my voice and my mind to make my life an honoring song for all those who came before and all those whose faces and names I will not know who will know me as an ancestor, who grant me courage cultivate this garden of work that makes me rise in the morning with re-invigorated purpose for those yet to come. May we leave them with good nourishing food to eat and the embodied wisdom of how to prepare meals with love, and beautiful stories to fall asleep to, and clean water to drink, and a deeper understanding of relationship and connectivity that will assist them as they make a similar commitment to their descendants. We do not forget the threads that connect us, that weave us together on the grand loom of time. #ancestors #honoring #indigenous #resilience #dayofthedead