Returning to Wirikuta: A Pilgrimage of Soul and Earth
There are no words to truly express the sacredness of the experience. Wirikuta is not just land—it is memory, spirit, and song woven into the Earth itself. It is the place where the sun was born, where prayers hang in the wind, and where the ancestors walk beside you with each step. I held my breath as I arrived, reverent, in awe of the magnitude of what this land carries.
For two nights, we sat in ceremony beneath the stars, preparing ourselves—body, mind, and spirit—to offer our gratitude at the sacred altar at Cerro Quemado, Venadito Azul, Sacred Blue Deer, you guide us home. This was not a casual visit. This was a pilgrimage. A return. A reckoning with the depth of healing that has unfolded within me over the years through the medicine we call peyote—this ancient, living spirit who has held me through initiation after initiation.
The cantos, the songs, the whispered prayers—they moved through the desert air like wind chimes made of soul. Each note cracked me open a little more, reminding me of the grace I’ve received, of the parts of me that have died and been reborn.
And then, as dawn approached after the second night, something ancient moved through me. As the first light crept over the horizon, I could no longer stand—I slid to my knees, placing my hands upon the Earth. I wept. I breathed. I listened.
To touch the ground where my ancestors once walked, where their feet shaped paths of devotion across the sands… there was no thought left in me. Only gratitude. Raw. Wordless. Holy.
There is nothing like it.
To return to Wirikuta is to remember who you are beneath all the noise of the world. It is to walk where the veil is thin and the heart becomes a drum, echoing the songs of those who came before. I came with prayers. I left with silence. Sacred, spacious silence—the kind that only arrives when your soul has been witnessed by the land itself.
And now, I carry it with me. This blessing. This responsibility. To live in right relationship. To give thanks in how I walk. To honor this medicine, not just in ceremony, but in the way I listen, the way I speak, the way I serve.
Gracias, Wirikuta. Gracias, Abuelito Peyote. Gracias, to the spirits of this land who allowed me to come, to remember, to return.
With Love & Reverence,
Moon Woman
Real de Catorce, May 2025, Pilgrimage to Wirikuta
