my mother's bedtime stories of the women in our family made me believe in, and eventually harness, our magic. my grandmother's strength, as the matriarch of thirteen, teaches me daily, even after her passing, that leadership is debilitating sacrifice “only if you let them.” my mother's quiet irreverence has taught me, time and again, that womanhood thrives in transformation. we each are seers of different elements: earth awaiting the harvest, water nurturing the future, and fire ever-shape-shifting.
one thing remains, in the generational shifts: the courage of our ancestors. it takes great faith, calling in better futures, diving into what is known only within to manifest it tangibly in this plane. (transitioning, if you will.) i resemble má and abuelita when they were my age these days. what a blessing it is to transit this realm with their rasgos on my face and their wisdom under my wings. from their journeys, i believe that magic is surrender. mindfulness. acceptance. participation. creation. in the universe.