Dragon š Letter #93: What a Leaky Roof Taught Me About Listening
Beautiful Wildlings,
Wet season has returned to Chiapas with some hefty thunderstorms. Last weekās downpour gave us a look at where the roof is leaking this time around.
We were fortunate to have the expert roofer, Panchito, come yesterday to clean and repair the tile roof. There was only one tile broken over my casita, but itās under the trees, so an accumulation of leaves caused inundation. The salon was a bit more leaky. The culprits: a repaired tile from last year and a couple of others were broken.
These leaks require fast action, moving dog beds, furniture, and placing towels. I had to stop and regulate because I was ready to burn bridges and relationships over a wet sofa.
Today we tested out the new tiles, and so far, knock on wood, there are no leaks.
Having Panchito has been a blessing. He was unavailable for most of last year, and the temporary repairs didnāt hold up well.
He worked one-handed with his son to get things ready for the big storms coming. And after we learned about his harrowing near-death experience. He almost lost his hand in a freak accident with a saw several weeks back, working on a kitchen project for my landlord. So grateful he is ok.
The tile roof was one of the characteristics I was looking for when house hunting. Still, I miss the security of the metal roof of our place in Nicaragua. Plus, thereās no dank, moldy smell when the roof doesnāt leak so often, a likely contributor to the health challenges.
I find the disruptions of space very challenging to my equilibrium. Not great when there are so many issues competing for my attention.
Humming Drones
Thunderclouds arenāt the only troublesome things in the skies above us these days. Iāve also heard humming, unmanned drones flying over Chiapas.
Despite being outside the U.S., I still feel at the mercy of a deranged lunatic megalomaniacās whims for chaos should he decide to arm and fire those drones on any target deemed a threat. Not great when he likes to make shit up.
As CF47 (convicted felon 47, aka tiny hands) increases rhetoric about invading Mexico, our fierce President, Claudia Sheinbaum, has told him under no circumstances. Mexico is sovereign.
Salt and Turquoise
With possible family members coming to live in Central Mexico, we stepped back to explore and research other potential locations besides Xalapa.
During an ancestral healing session, my ancestral guide from Baja California encouraged me to move where I have more of an ancestral connection. She said Xalapa doesnāt have any of my people. Iām taking this guidance to heart.
Iāve been dreaming of water, salt, and turquoise. Of stars I donāt recognize but know belong to the stories of my people. Baja feels like a whisper from my abuelitaās line to receive their blessings ā a place to tend my relationship to the ancestors of the land in a more rooted way.
Hopefully, Iāll be able to put my feet in the Gulf of California and visit some other waters familiar to my people so we can get a clearer picture of our next move. One area, Lake Chalapa, is closer to CherĆ”n, MichoacĆ”n, an ancestral community Iāve studied from afar for its Indigenous sovereignty approach to both government and cartels.
Panchitoās hands are healing. So is the roof.
So am I, under these skies, listening for where the leaks still are.
Tending Your Ancestors
If youāre listening for where your own leaks are, those unseen places where energy seeps out, where your foundations feel soft or unstable, youāre not alone.
We begin Ancestral Wayfinding this Wednesday, May 7th, 9:30am PT, 12:30pm ET
If youāre curious, have questions, or want to feel into whether this is for you, Iāll be opening my Zoom Room for a quiet Q&A(Zoom link) tomorrow, Monday at 1pm PT / 4pm ET.
Bring your wonderings. Bring your hesitations. Or come sit and listen.
Sometimes the way reveals itself when we show up soaked, tender, and ever willing.
Stay wild, love fiercely. Your presence is golden.
Maltiox! xo Ixchel
P.S. If youāre feeling the pull but arenāt sure if Ancestral Wayfinding is for you, Iām holding a gentle Q&A on Monday at 1pm PT / 4pm ET (Zoom link). No need to register. Just come with your curiosities, questions, or quietly listen in. Sometimes clarity comes from showing up.
P.P.S. Maltiox pronounced mall-tee-osh means with gratitude in Kāiche Mayan.
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Your Sanctuary to Cultivate Wild Presence for Thriving with a Planet in Transition
I was raised and bore children on the traditional, unceded, and stolen lands of the Coast and Central Valley Miwok (colonized as Petaluma, CA) and Nisenan (colonized as Sacramento and Fair Oaks, CA), past, present, and future. I also write, work, and live in the highland forest of the traditional, unceded and stolen lands of the Totonac, Nahua, and Mexicah, past, present, and future, in what is known as Coatepec, Veracruz, Mexico.
P.P.S. I do not live or consent to the colonial impositions regarding the construct of Time. I also practice honoring rhythms of work, play, and rest so that I can serve you with embodied presence and with loving care. This means I may take several days to respond to your requests and questions. (h/t Eva Glamaris)
P.P.S. A mention is not necessarily an endorsement of someone. Itās an acknowledgment, a citation, of the origin of information in my process of understanding. (h/t Kelly Diels)
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Copyright Ā© 2026, Cheyenne, WY, and Veracruz, Mexico, All rights reserved. Sharing your lineage of knowledge is decolonial. When iterating, please cite me. Not citing is epistemicide.
