My Grandma Rory read palms like movies. Her eyes would flash back and forth, while her face would move thru a series of laughable expressions. She was charming, and tiny, and dramatic. She spoke with a thick accent that I thought was "Catholic," and later, "psychic." (Actually, it was Filipino)  Her spirituality was filled with so many saints and angels that decades of anticipation had imprinted into her bedroom doorknob. The one day I walked in, after she passed, I had a stunning, vivid vision of her practice the moment I touched the metal orb. Each milagro, momento and figurine, collected from dozens of global pilgrimages seared into my hand, before it began to turn. With a gasp, a breath, and then a twist, I opened to see the apparition, made real :: exactly what she had seen, each day, from a lifetime in service to Spirit {and madly in love with my Grandfather}.

My Grandma Estrella kept garlic and almond oil in her pockets. She eased our aches with a laying of hands, crystals, and mysterious prayers to mysterious beings. She led churches and eccentric circles, and when there was opportunity, she played the keys, fingers flying into the air. She was a passionate musician, community leader, and multi-founder. Both of them were migrant mothers, survivors of war and life. They brought woman's wisdom ways from our homeland with 7,107 islands. 

My mother taught me to read tokens and auguries. My Grandmothers taught me to feel into them.

Everyday, regardless of the weather, I sink my feet into the Earth. Or slush, gravel, sticks, or sea. Sometimes there's even garbage, pavement, or farm animals at my toes. Often a child is on my hip or at my breast. Sometimes the path chooses me. Well, maybe every time. Regardless, here is where I am freed to my humanity :: right-sized, a tiny moment in the great story.

On Path my frequency changes, and I'm no longer able to ignore my own boundaries. This is where I fill up on awe, where I first came to understand my inheritance of true magic, and how I've come to strategize resource flow by studying water. This is where I get the spaciousness to forget, and to empty enough to remember to breathe. Here I drop onto my back to be supported when I can't hold it all, or really very much of anything. This is where I've been forgiven, and where I begin to see clearly again. My ancestors speak to me thru memories On Path, as murmurs in the trees, and shells that make their way into my children's fingers. The Path refines my ability to see symbolically, to any archetypal lesson or spiritual contracts at play. It brings me choice, perspective and non-attachment. It's allowed me to be unreasonable, keep birthing, and stay free.


The Path begins to speak to me, unsubtly, as messages from life, for the past 22 years, FOR my people ::


-A smooth, acid green pond, thick with algae begins to thrash and flicker. A large carp cuts a wicked and noisy trail before disappearing.

"Come out of nowhere. Clear a fierce path. Leave them jaw dropped, moved, and ready."


-A green heron sits above the water, completely still, and calls me forward to examine her coffee breast, slate grey wings and strips of wavy, navy plumage. The sun comes from behind the clouds, and it closes it's eyes, lifting it's beak slightly.

"You've come out of the muck. It's time to be still, to bask in the warmth. You don't ever have to leave."


-The path disappears and I'm a bit lost. I look for tracks, crushed sticks, a bit of clearing in the woods. A large birch is before me, with white bark that is peeling in thin, reddish layers on one side, with knobby, gnarly clumps of brown bark on the other.

"We all have different faces. Depending on the kindness of the weather. The surface response is different, the importance and  ability to shed what's not needed is the same."


Each message has offered clear guidance for how to navigate the Gateways :: life's real and symbolic opportunities. These are our choice points for how to act, what to do, and who to be for the highest good of those involved. Earth dreams thru us, and while I may not always listen, understand or be ready, the gift is always clarity.

So basically I walk this life, constantly having my mind blown.  

xx, Maya