Walking With Ancestors

I enter a skull-shaped labyrinth, beginning my journey through the lower jaw. I follow the contour of the cheekbone, spiral through an eye socket, and weave between teeth. Entering the cranium, I wind along a path that curves around a heart-shaped third eye. I then spiral through the orb of another eye and complete the inward journey, arriving in the nasal cavity—the center of the labyrinth. As if pulled by a magnetic force, my bare feet sink deeply into the grass. I pause, sensing the peaceful presence of ancestors who join me here today.

While in San Sebastian, Mexico (Teotihuacan), my husband and I created a labyrinth to celebrate Day of the Dead (1). We envisioned the skull-shaped labyrinth providing a way for pilgrims to walk with the ancestors. Labyrinths can be portals that allow communion with energetic forces and entities, such as ancestors of long ago or descendants in the far-off future. Time is relative as one walks a sacred path. Accordingly, pilgrims may experience non-linear reality where past, present, and future are parallel, permeable, and intermingling.

Over the course of two days, I walked the labyrinth several times—slowly or steadily, alone or with others, while silent or singing. I called upon my grandmothers long gone and beckoned ancestors of the deep and distant past. I would like to think that my descendants joined me on the journey. And perhaps I even walked with past and future selves. I may never know for sure. Nevertheless, I know for certain that with each step, I was remembering who I am.*

Several years ago, under the instruction of Calen Rayne (2), I composed a message to my ancestors, writing words within the winding path of a labyrinth printed on a piece of paper. This message, below, expresses how I embody the ancestors ever-present within me and ever-originating through my living and being.

Self-as-Ancestor

I walk, with your feet, upon the land

and touch, with your hands, the Earth.

I drink, with your mouth, the water.

I see, with your eyes, the vast blue sky

and the clouds so soft.

I feel, with your heart, love of life.

I know, in your being, who I am.

I sing, with your voice, of stars at night.

I pray with your arms held high.

For all that is,