A Walk with a Shaman

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I set out to spend the morning with a Mayan shaman. I had been to Lake Atitlán before, but this time was different. Instead of just admiring the scenery, I was about to step into a new world, at least to me, one of rituals, elements, and ancient wisdom.

We started our journey early, weaving through the villages around the lake, collecting the pieces that would come together for the ceremony. At our first stop, we picked medicinal plants, leaves and roots, some familiar but with properties I’d never heard of. The shaman, Tojil, explained with quiet confidence what each plant did and asked me to choose which I would like to bring with us. He handed me a sprig of eucalyptus, crushing a few leaves between his fingers before bringing them to my nose. The sharp, minty scent instantly tingled in my sinuses, and he explained how the steam from eucalyptus leaves is often used to ease congestion and cleanse energy.

Our walk continued to another house in the same town, where we carefully crafted candles, each color representing an intention: red for love, green for prosperity, white for clarity. As we moved from place to place, the shaman asked questions, not just about what I was hoping for from the ceremony, but about what I was ready to let go of.

By the time we arrived at the ceremony site, I felt like I had already started to shed something. Maybe it was just the anticipation, but I felt different. The shaman prepared the fire, carefully laying out offerings of tobacco, candles, and aromatic herbs. As the flames grew, he chanted, calling on the ancestors, the elements, and the nahuals (he guiding energies of the Mayan calendar). I watched as my intentions, whispered into the fire, curled into smoke and drifted into the sky.

When ceremony ended, the sun had shifted, and so had something inside me. I left feeling lighter, more grounded, like I had walked through a door in my mind I hadn’t even known was there. It wasn’t just the ritual itself, but the whole journey: the conversations, the quiet moments, the act of gathering the elements with my own hands. This wasn’t just a ceremony. It was an experience, a process, a walk to remember.

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