Clearing. Chopping. Raking. Cutting. Lifting. Moving.

The muddy jungle soil covers my face, my hands, and fills the space underneath my nails to make me understand we are one and the same.

Moving rocks from one place to another; creating paths and openings. New beginnings. Release.

Ticks are biting and crawling all over my legs and up the ass, biting again even harder this time. Itchy, muddy sweaty and part of it all.

Open circles opening the heart. And we become spirals and trees.

Mama Jungle says:" Lift your head. Raise your eyes towards the tall trees. Rest here. In the space you created."

We share the silence of focus. Snakes bless our work. We are welcome here. She gifts us bamboo trees and we chop them, flatten them and build a bridge.

We build a bridge to unite the people.

Raking and clearing. The wheelbarrow fills up: what is not wanted in one place gets an important role somewhere else. Paths are made. The secret passageway in the jungle starts to show for the one who looks.

We create paths across the worlds.

And you are welcome here,  dear one. We are all welcome here.

I am blessed with having family in many parts of the globe. It is with deep gratitude and humility me and my husband offer our service to Mother Earth. To create and hold ceremonial space is such profound work. I and we are happy and grateful to be part of this creations work; to plant seeds of community and to share the tales of ancient traditions. Everywhere we go, we will carry this work in our hearts and our feet. And we invite you to join the feast!

More tales will come, the land will expand.

Thank you.

Ometeotl