Where does Día de Muertos come from?

Long before the Spanish arrived, the Mexica honored their dead in ceremonies woven through the calendar. Two festivals in late summer, often called the Little Feast of the Dead and the Great Feast of the Dead, were dedicated to those who had died. Offerings of food, flowers, and incense were made so that the dead would be remembered and nourished on their journey. In Mexica understanding, most of the dead traveled to Mictlan, the realm of the dead, a long journey through several levels that took years to complete. The living could help them along the way. A small dog, the xoloitzcuintli, was said to help guide souls across a river on that road. When the Catholic church brought All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day on November 1 and 2, the old ways of honoring the dead did not vanish. They moved to meet the new calendar. What we call Día de Muertos today grew from that meeting. In 2008, UNESCO recognized the Indigenous festivity dedicated to the dead as part of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Why do we set a place for the dead?

In our traditions, the dead are not gone. They are ancestors, and ancestors are relatives. The ofrenda is a way of saying: we remember you, we have not forgotten your name, come home and rest with us. It is hospitality extended across the thinnest of veils.

What goes on an ofrenda, and what does each element mean?

Every family's ofrenda is its own, but many share these elements: - Of those being remembered, so they know they are welcome. - For the thirst of a long journey. - The marigold. Its name comes from the Nahuatl cempohualxochitl, often translated as "twenty flower" for its many petals. Its bright color and strong scent are said to guide the way home. - A light to find home by. - Whose smoke carries prayer and cleanses the space. - For purification. - The bread of the dead. - Because love is specific. A favorite dish, a certain brand of soda, a cup of coffee made the way they liked it. - Cut paper that moves with the wind, a reminder of how fragile and beautiful life is. - A hat, a rosary, a deck of cards, a tool they used every day. Some families build their ofrenda in levels, representing the layers between earth and the world beyond. Others keep it simple on a single table. There is no one correct form.

What if you were cut off from your traditions?

Many people reading this were never taught. Families migrated. Languages were lost. Some were told to leave the old ways behind so they could belong somewhere new. If that is your story, hear this: you do not need permission to love your ancestors. A glass of water, a candle, a photograph, and their name spoken aloud is already an ofrenda.

What if you do not know their names?

Set a place anyway. Say: for those who came before me, whose names I do not know. The ofrenda is not a test of how much you remember. It is an act of relationship. They know your name.

Can someone who is not Mexican make an ofrenda?

Every person has ancestors. Honoring your own is a human act. If you build an ofrenda, do it with respect for the people this practice comes from, and let it be for your own dead, spoken in your own words.

You Belong Here If You Come Sincerely

Louise Bremen

7 hours ago

3 min read

Diverse friends hold hands in a sunlit park beside evergreen trees; text reads You Belong Here If You Come Sincerely.

It is one of the most common questions people carry, often quietly and sometimes with embarrassment: "Am I allowed to be here?" It deserves a clear and honest answer.

Do you need to be Indigenous to receive traditional healing?

In most curandera traditions, no. Historically, curanderos served whoever came to their door. In South Texas in the late 1800s, the curandero Don Pedrito Jaramillo was sought by Mexican and Anglo neighbors alike. Village healers in Mexico tended travelers, strangers, and people of every background. The medicine was offered to those who needed it.

The Abuelas and Abuelos who carried these traditions did so with love for every living being. Receiving is open to all who come sincerely.

Smiling woman hugs a man on a porch by door 511, with autumn leaves and a lantern, warm and joyful

What is the difference between open and closed practices?

Being welcome to receive is not the same as being entitled to take. Many Indigenous traditions distinguish between what is open, shared freely with anyone, and what is closed, kept within a community, a lineage, or a ceremony, and passed on only with permission.

A limpia received from a healer is something anyone may receive. The prayers, songs, and methods used to carry it are often closed. They belong to the lineage, and they are given only to those who have been taught, tested, and trusted. That is why certain teachings are never written down, sold in courses, or shared online.

What does respect look like?

These practices belong to living peoples, not to a marketplace. Receiving with respect means:

Coming as a guest, not a collector.
Not repackaging what you receive to teach or sell to others.
Honoring that some teachings are closed.
Remembering where the medicine comes from, and the peoples who kept it alive through colonization.
Supporting those communities where you can.

The line between appreciation and appropriation is not about who you are. It is about how you receive, and what you do with what you are given.

Do you have to believe in anything?

Cross pendant hanging from a chain silhouetted against a glowing orange sunset over dark hills

No. Curanderismo has never required a statement of belief. You do not need to accept any particular idea of spirit, energy, or the ancestors. You only need to come sincerely, with an open heart and honest intentions.

Is traditional healing compatible with Christianity, Islam, Judaism, or other faiths?

Our traditions have lived beside, and within, many faiths for centuries. After the conquest, curanderismo absorbed Catholic prayers and saints, and for many families a limpia still includes the Our Father or a prayer to the Virgin. People of many faiths have found these practices meaningful alongside their own tradition.

A healer with integrity will never ask you to give up what you hold sacred. If you have questions about how this fits your faith, it is always right to ask them openly.

What if you are Mexican or Latino but were never taught?

Smiling family of three sits on the forest floor among tall trees, sharing a warm moment in dappled sunlight.

Many people carry the ache of being cut off from their ancestors, their culture, or their language. Some grew up hearing the word limpia and never experienced one. Some were told these practices were superstition, or something to leave behind in order to succeed. If that is your story, returning to these traditions may feel like coming home.

You are exactly who this medicine was kept alive for. Bienvenidos. Aquí se habla español.

Belonging in these traditions has never been about paperwork or bloodline alone. It has always been about relationship: how you come, how you receive, and how you honor what you are given.