The Moon Within Read online

  Marco’s a xochihuah and

  a reflection of the Creator, Ometeotl.

  That Aztec calendar on your board

  well, guess what?

  The Mexica’s number one creator spirit is Ometeotl

  who’s both male and female

  just like Marco.

  And if you are too stupid to see that

  he’s supposed to be honored and respected

  because of this, then you have no

  business having that calendar on

  your board and no business

  talking to me!

  I walk away from Iván

  my lips clenched

  breathing fast

  clasping my fists closed

  in a knockout knot.

  The day before the full moon

  Mima and I build an altar

  on the ground in the center of the garden.

  Careful to honor the

  Mexica four directions

  we lay out the items …

  In the East, the realm of Tlahuizlampa

  the element of fire

  where passion, illumination, and energy live

  we lay candles.

  Facing West, Cihuatlampa

  that is the body of Mother Earth

  where we are grounded

  we offer leaves and moss.

  To the South, in Huitzlampa

  the element of water

  where our cleansing, deep emotions, and dreams go

  we place a bowl of water.

  And North, Mictlampa

  we revere the air

  our spirits, the truth of our spoken word

  and so we place a bell, a feather, a twig of sage.

  The center pedestal

  we reserve for statues of goddesses and spirits

  from my Mexican side and my Caribbean side.

  Mima asks me to arrange these statues as I wish.

  I scatter them like the petals of a cempazuchitl flower

  looking every which way.

  Tonantzin / Guadalupe—Mexica Earth Mother and Mexican Virgin Mary

  Coatlicue—Mexica mother of the cycle of life and death

  Yemayá—Yoruba spirit of the ocean

  Oyá—Yoruba spirit of the wind, of hurricanes

  Ochún—Yoruba spirit of sweet waters, fertility, and love

  Atabey—Taíno supreme goddess of fresh water and fertility

  Xochipilli / Xochiquetzal—Mexica flower prince and princess of the arts and all genders

  Ometeotl—Mexica creation spirit in divine balance

  In the absolute center I place my favorite goddess:

  Coyolxauhqui—Mexica goddess of the moon

  She lies on a disc, a woman fallen and broken

  but a warrior who fought the god of war, the sun

  for honor.

  Though she failed, she tried.

  Coyolxauhqui comes back in bits

  every single night

  illuminating the sky little by little

  until all of her broken pieces

  become one.

  As my last offering to my moon altar

  I lay my first doll, Alma, inside an open gourd

  then I add a flint, for protection

  and a spool of thread to mend

  her bird-print dress

  I say goodbye beneath my breath

  while Mima sprinkles her

  with crystal dust

  that feels like love.

  Mima and I wrap four poles

  one for each direction

  with twine and red ribbons.

  We hang strings of white lights

  on trees and bushes

  in what looks like a circle of light.

  We talk about the new ceremonial white

  dress I am going to wear for the night

  my new sandals

  and my grandmother Yeya’s rebozo

  that will fall from my shoulders

  and surely touch the ground.

  Teresa and Marco arrive later to help us

  but only Mima and Teresa

  build the moon hut.

  Marco and I watch as they

  bring six bamboo poles together and

  tie them at the top ends and extend them

  so the figure looks like a tiny stick house.

  They cover it with an ivory crochet bedspread

  that belonged to my Yeya’s grandmother

  and looks like a beautiful spiderweb.

  They decorate with evergreen branches and flowers.

  This is where I will sit during ceremony.

  We arrange straw mats on the grass

  pillows and chairs for the elder women

  who can’t sit on the ground.

  We wash and dry small glass jars

  with their lids, then fill the jars with filtered water

  and trim with a glittery ribbon.

  These will be placed in front of each woman

  to collect the light rays of the moon

  so that we can drink

  when our hearts need healing.

  Marco and I collect kindling

  twigs and newspaper for the fire pit.

  Then place thirteen rocks around

  the fire to represent the thirteen moons

  that appear in a year.

  Papi and Juju gather

  caxixis, bells, maracas, and shakers

  from Papi’s collection for each of the women

  because there will be no drums

  allowed in this circle.

  When I ask why,

  Mima reminds me that Coyolxauhqui

  has bells on her cheeks

  and we honor her by only invoking

  those sweet sounds.

  A big pot of pozole

  is slow cooking in the kitchen.

  The smell that warms my belly

  escapes our little house and finds

  its way to the garden.

  Tomorrow will be my first moon ceremony.

  I look out into our garden

  at the power we’re gathering

  then at Mima.

  The feelings of strangeness

  and nervousness that I’ve had

  before today

  peel away

  as we work quietly

  with our hands.

  The next evening

  as guests arrive,

  I can’t stop biting my nails.

  My aunties, my Yeya, and Chuyina

  who’ve all come from LA are here.

  The women from Mima and Teresa’s women’s circle

  and Ms. Susana greet me

  with the biggest hugs, which make

  my anticipation rise

  like warm bread in the oven.

  When Marco and Teresa arrive

  the small quivering of my skin begins to calm.

  Marco is wearing pants AND a dress

  pretty jacalosúchil flower beads around his neck

  a xochihuah in the flesh.

  The women magically whirl about

  dressed in white outfits

  and enjoy Mima’s pozole dinner

  when there’s a knock on the door.

  It’s someone who wasn’t invited.

  Iván stands in the doorway.

  When Marco and I near

  my face reddens

  my breath shortens

  my eyes dart

  from

  Marco’s too serious expression

  to

  Iván’s cheeriness.

  So I just close them and

  open them when Iván says,

  Hi, Celi, can I talk to you real quick?

  Then he lifts his head at Marco

  in a sort of friendly way.

  I’m too embarrassed that he’s here

  that I don’t say no.

  I close the door behind me

  walk away from the porch

  down the steps toward the street.

  When he follows


  the flaming orange sun sets fast

  behind us.

  What are you doing here?

  I just want to say I’m sorry. But wait,

  what’s happening in there? You having a party?

  I straighten up, take a deep breath, and say it,

  It’s my moon ceremony.

  Oooh, his eyebrows pop up.

  Like the Aztec ceremony your mom talked about?

  Yes, and I gotta get back.

  He bites his lower lip like

  his nerves need to be held down

  but then his words

  come rushing out.

  I’m really sorry if I made you mad, Celi. I’m not used

  to being with people like Magda and I know she’s

  your friend and everything but it’s just hard

  to get, you know?

  You didn’t have to be so mean to him?

  Right, it’s a him. She’s a him. I mean.

  See, I don’t get it, but I want to.

  Look, I just really like you. Like, “like” you.

  And I know I’ve got to get Magda

  or else I can’t get close to you.

  Mar doesn’t deserve how you’ve been

  regardless of me.

  I know, you’re right.

  My panza begins to turn.

  I’m having a hard time swallowing

  words and my own nerves rumble

  the ebb of sparkling feelings lures me to him

  but then the flow of Marco’s friendship

  pushes me back to shore.

  Before I can respond

  Iván gently reaches for my hand

  moves near

  says softly, You look really pretty, as he

  drops his head to the side

  and looks at me with will-you-forgive-me eyes.

  He is so close

  I can feel

  the heat

  of his face

  near mine.

  Celi, I’m sorry, he whispers.

  In my ears his words are

  a never-ending tide

  pulling against time but not

  because now the sun is gone

  darkness creeps across the sky

  he leans in

  could this be my first real kiss?

  Then, in an instant, the

  sky

  swirls

  and Luna pours into me.

  I see Marco’s joy

  our echo dancing and playing

  that makes me soar

  like our two-birds-locking-and-flying

  handshake.

  There can be no dance without music.

  I remember also

  my moon ceremony

  the women in white

  their hugs, the circle.

  I remember that I am a butterfly now.

  I turn my head away from Iván

  and run up my stairs.

  I am ready to fly.

  After the pozole

  we move to the garden

  where Luna shines

  in all her brightness.

  The fragrance of night-blooming jasmine surrounds us.

  Yeya, our elder,

  smudges each with copal incense smoke

  before we enter the circle.

  We look into the blazing fire in the center, hold hands.

  Mima, Teresa, Ms. Susana, Yeya, my aunts, Chuyina,

  other women from Mima’s women’s group,

  Marco and I.

  My stomach does somersaults.

  In Mima’s welcome, she asks us all

  to say thank you in the Mexica language, Nahuatl.

  Tlazohcamati!

  Grateful first to Ometeotl

  to our ancestors

  to Mother Earth

  and especially to Grandmother Moon

  for which we have all dressed in white.

  She acknowledges that we stand

  on Ohlone land and honors

  the indigenous people of Oakland.

  She honors all present

  the elders who no longer bleed

  those who bleed now

  those who don’t bleed

  and those who still haven’t bled.

  She asks us to say out loud

  the one thing we are grateful for

  at the same time.

  Though my palms are sweaty

  as I hold Marco’s right hand with my left

  I say I am grateful for my body.

  I can hear Marco has said the same.

  Mima has us turn

  to each of the four directions

  to thank each for their gifts

  but we also look down to the earth and finally up to the sky

  to receive a blessing from the entire universe.

  We know to turn our bodies because Teresa blows

  into a conch shell the size of a melon

  and releases its bellowing sound into the air.

  I walk slowly into

  the brightly lit moon hut

  and don’t know

  on which of the two pillows to sit.

  My heartbeat races

  like a horse inside my body.

  Without warning

  Mima sings a song loudly that is

  by the elder, Abuela Margarita,

  Luna llena, luna llena

  Lléname, lléname de amor

  Luna llena, luna llena

  Lléname, lléname de amor.

  All the women shake their rattles

  when she is done.

  Tonight we are here to welcome the coming

  of Celestina Rivera’s first moon blood

  her moon within

  under the light of this ancient full moon

  by the sacred fire

  with all of the divine feminine energy

  in the center of our altar and in this circle.

  I look around at all of the women and

  their eyes

  are all

  on

  me!

  Instead of wanting to bite my nails

  or hide like I thought I would

  I feel a warm air travel

  from my feet

  to my chest

  and rush

  to the top

  of my head.

  And we are also gathered in this circle

  to celebrate a sacred member of our community,

  Marco Magdalena Sánchez, who today

  we publicly honor for being a xochihuah,

  the one who bears flowers

  who is a reflection of our Creator, Ometeotl,

  and holds both the female energy and the male energy

  in harmony.

  We believe that our Mexica ancestors knew

  when two energies came together

  as one, it could only be considered sacred.

  And as we reclaim and rebuild our traditions

  we also create this space for you to be blessed

  by your community.

  I turn to Marco

  sitting cross-legged

  next to my hut

  and his mouth

  is open in surprise.

  Teresa walks over to Marco

  helps him to his feet and moves him

  over to my moon hut

  and signals him to sit

  on the empty pillow next to me.

  I reach out and hug Marco

  our eyes begin to water

  but we fight back our tears.

  Our mothers sit on either side

  of the hut that is now ours

  as they take turns

  leading the different rituals.

  We both stand in front of two tin basins

  filled with agua florida, flower essence water

  that Yeya’s prepared for us.

  She’s mixed

  jacalosúchil blossoms and roses

  plus, dragon’s blood blooms, ruda flowers

  and night-blooming jasmine.

  Eac
h of our mothers dips their hands

  in the water and lightly brushes the water

  on our feet, our hands, our clothes, our necks, our heads.

  This is our cleansing, our freeing.

  Yeya prays: May this sacred water wash away

  your fears, negativity, and sadness. May it leave you

  feeling inspired and ready to dream on your life’s journey.

  Each woman takes a flower, a xochitl, from the

  center altar and places or pins it in

  our hair, clothes, around our ankles and wrists.

  Now Teresa prays: May these flowers, symbols of

  your blooming into adulthood, help you continue to blossom

  into the person you are meant to be. Marco Xochihuah,

  especially, these flowers are your beauty, your strength,

  your perseverance and purpose.

  I turn and pin a xochitl over

  Marco’s chest

  I understand that he’s never

  had a secret locket at all

  but an open, flowering heart.

  Mima guides me back to the hut

  and Marco stays standing.

  Teresa in front of him

  holds his hands while

  she stares into his eyes.

  In an almost chant-like tone she calls:

  Tonight, I honor you, Marco Xochihuah,

  for the balance and duality that you are.

  Two energies in one body

  like the day and night

  sadness and joy

  death and life.

  There cannot be one without the other.

  As a reflection of Ometeotl

  you are fluidity in motion.

  You may bleed like a woman

  and you may move as a man in the world

  as you have chosen to do now.

  Wherever you decide to thrive

  remember that you are perfection in the crossroads.

  No one can derail you from who you are

  not even yourself because you

  have been made this way by the Creator.

  I honor your wisdom.

  I honor your power.

  I honor your strength.

  I love you.

  Tlazohcamati, xochihuah.

  Tlazohcamati, Ometeotl.

  Teresa then steps back and asks Marco

  to speak.

  Ever since I was little,

  I felt like there was more to me

  than what people saw.

  I didn’t know how to

  explain it until I learned

  about the xochihuah and Ometeotl.

  Duality seems like

  me on some days

  but most days, I feel more

  boy than girl.

  To be honest, I’m still trying to figure

  out where I’ll end up—a boy, a girl, or both—

  but I can say this:

  I feel lucky to have

  this spiritual path to guide me.

  I just want my family

  and friends to understand me