As a diasporic Xicana Indígena mixie and adoptee, I was raised outside my ancestral homelands - I was born in the land of salmon and mountains, of rain and forests, of water and wind. I now live between many worlds, as uninvited guest, in traditional Chinook territory, as a regular visitor in Syilx territory and as a humble returnee to my paternal ancestral homelands in US Mexico borderlands and Purépecha territory.
My Indigenous ancestors are from land where earth is hot and water is scarce, where death is celebrated and the ancestors honored. From them, I inherited my threshold sensibility. As early as eight years old I was pouring over images and stories of death . . . and birth. I would spend hours alone marveling at the realms between worlds and the gorgeous and necessary relationship between birth and death.
I have always been a little out of synch, finding myself at odds with current cultural paradigms.
For better or for worse (trust me it's hard) I live in the rhythmic bridging between polarities and more and more between polarized and confrontational cultural-war-zones.
Along the way, my affinity for words have been my side-kick, my constant touchstone, my place of solace, epiphany and comfort. Words have also been my weapon for social change, inspiration and healing. I am a born writer, healer and shit-disturber, but also compassionate and forgiving alchemist.
My personal experience of re-membering my Indigenist soul, not despite but through trauma traces. This has inspired me to explore and understand how trauma is transmitted over generations and how it can be healed – and how ancestral wisdom and memoria is recovered in the healing process of all people regardless of race and culture. And how we can engage in practices that activate and enact the sacred soul of the world, together.
That is how I found myself here . . . in service, in love, in gratitude.
Heal you lineage. Heal your soul.
Your ancestors are waiting.
Your body is magic. The lap of the earth is strong and open.
We got this!