Last year I began looking more into my ancestors and lineages. A daughter of two immigrants from Central American war-torn countries, with a completely severed connection to my Father’s side of the family, and limited access to historical records on my Mother’s side made this difficult. This is how I found myself in an Ancestral Migrations consultation with Katy Swallows (highly recommend) and this is how this journey began.
The woo-woo parts of myself are intrinsically tied to how I navigate the world. I started having visions and foretelling events before I turned three. Obviously, at first, my parents were worried I was losing my mind. Every time my mother would take me to the bathroom to potty train me, I would point to the skylight and tell her that a “man all in white” was going to come through the skylight soon. When they looked up, nobody was ever there. My father started climbing to the roof of our home and waiting up there before my mother would take me to the restroom. He never saw anybody else on the roof even when I would insist there was a man up there. My parents began looking for child psychologists. Then, one day, we came home and found ourselves victims of a burglary. I declared that it was the “man in white” who had come in through the skylight. When we got to the bathroom, that is exactly what happened. The police eventually found the man – a house painter.
Afterwards, my family gave me the nickname “la brujita” or “little witch.” I see things. I know things. It’s not just me — my mother and grandmother do as well. When I picked up a tarot deck ten years ago I found that reading the cards came quickly and naturally, even before I started studying. But explaining my “knowing” to people has always been difficult, usually impossible. I have stopped trying.
However, today I find myself sitting next to my grandmother as she rests and hides from the midday sun in her room, surrounded by four altars. She lives in Nicaragua, close to the mountains. We’ve recently had long talks about ancestor veneration, spirituality, and omens. She reminds me that knowing and seeing is a gift, even if we never fully understand it. Because of her, I was raised by a mother who rarely doubted my own gifts.
Less than a month after my consultation with Katy, I was in Plant City for a concert. While my lover and I walked back to the truck a barred owl swooped down and perched on top of the lamp post and stared at us. Katy had mentioned raptors in our reading and my own heliacal setting star is associated with birds of prey. “Follow the birds.”
At the time, I was living in an older apartment complex overlooking Biscayne Bay in Miami, surrounded by banyan trees and live oaks at least four feet in diameter, as well as the largest known seagrape tree reported to the American Forestry Association. It was a bird paradise! I watched the vultures, blue herons, ibis, pelicans, and cormorants head to their roosting islands at sunset everyday, or as often as I could. My lover bought me a pair of binoculars. We set up bird feeders. I watched the hawks build their nests around the apartment complex. We kayaked out to the islands to watch the birds up close. “I am listening.”
That Summer, I found myself in Peru, for a friend’s wedding. One day, my lover and I were leaving the National Museum of Archaeology, Anthropology, and History of Peru and walking over to the Larco Museum. While walking on Simon Bolivar Avenue, I felt someone walking closely behind me. I turned around to find a stray dog. We let him pass, and he turned around and paused and stared at us. In my gut, I felt like we should follow him. But the GPS was telling us to keep going straight. I dismissed the dog and chose to follow the GPS. Eventually we realized that the path the GPS was telling us to follow was blocked due to construction. In the end we had to double back and make the same turn the dog took.
Last Winter, I was weighing a life decision. I was staying with my lover in the family’s cabin in Lake Martin*. On one of my walks I noticed a blue heron, wading and hunting, and closely observing me. It reminded me of the dog in Peru. This went on for a week. The heron led, and I followed. One morning I woke up, and this time, my heron friend was right in front of the cabin. “It’s one step at a time.”
This Spring, I found myself in a similar position. Overwhelmed by three civvy career choices and the pull of my craft. This time I was in Valley of Fire state park in Nevada.
Surrounded by thousands of acres of bright red Aztec sandstone outcrops, petrified trees and petroglyphs. The red rock formations were formed more than 150 million years ago when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth! While driving through here, my lover pointed out the statue of a bighorn sheep. Eventually, the juvenile sheep opened her mouth to chew, while staring at us. Once again, I felt the answer fill my chest. “You’re chasing mastery and that takes time.”
Today my grandmother told me the story of her late dog. One day, as she was crossing the courtyard her dog turned around and stared at her. As she kept walking he started to bark at her. She quickly realized that he was warning her of a lizard which was about to fall from the tree and straight onto her head. “You wouldn’t believe it! It was like he was human. It was like he was speaking to me!” Of course I believed her. As I write this, I am filled with slight dread and sadness because she is 2 days shy of her third Saturn return.
In my experience, divining is inherently about seeking, and it requires the willingness to slow down and listen with an open mind and heart, regardless of the medium — cards, stars, pendulum, or birds. This year, there were swallow-tailed kites, night herons, great-horned owls, ospreys, and many more who shared their wisdom and inspired me in the moments when I needed them the most.
*Lake Martin is built over Kowaliga, a black town started by William E. Benson. At its peak, the town was home to the first black-owned and operated railroad in the US, as well as the Black school Kowaligia Academic & Industrial Institute. William was the son of John E Benson, an enslaved man who was freed and traveled to Florida to find his sister. Together, they made their way back to Alabama and started a thriving, short-lived, black community. Eventually, in 1926 the Alabama Power Company built up the Martin Dam and flooded the town.
**Hawk’s substack post about the omen model of astrology is fabulous.I won’t summarize it but I highly encourage you to read it, especially if you’re struggling with the questions omens and astrology bring up regarding the concept of free will.
