Walking with the Ancestors: A Prayer from the Top of Lamanai
Yesterday, on what would have been Daniel’s 48th birthday, I climbed to the top of an ancient Mayan temple, and I prayed.
The day began in chaos—thunderstorms and strong winds that threatened to keep me grounded at the resort. But grief has taught me that storms don’t cancel the journey. They accompany it.
So, I rose.
🌀 “Spirituality opens the door to faith—and faith is the seed of hope.”
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A Journey Through the Dzulinicob
We boarded a small boat and began our 20-minute ride to the mainland, despite the overcast skies and steady winds. The river we planned to travel—known today as the New River—is called Dzulinicob in the Yucatec Maya language. It means “strangers.”
The river flows north to south, one of the few in the world to do so, emptying into the Caribbean Sea. This made it a vital trade route for the Maya and, later, a strategic pathway for colonizers.
Belize, known as British Honduras under British rule, gained independence in 1981—but the lingering effects of colonialism are still felt, as they are throughout the Caribbean. Independence in name does not always mean freedom in practice.
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Companions on the River
I didn’t travel alone. A couple from San Diego, celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary, and newlyweds in the cabana next door rounded out our group of four. Life, in its quiet wisdom, always sends you the right people to complete your journey.
The clouds held back their rain, and our boat glided along the winding river for over an hour, surrounded by mangroves, herons, and the quiet whispers of the forest.
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Lamanai: Submerged Crocodile and Sacred Ground
We arrived at Lamanai, meaning “Submerged Crocodile.”
This ancient Maya city, nestled on the banks of Belize’s largest lagoon, was inhabited for over 3,000 years, its temples rising from the earth like prayers to the sky.
I climbed each temple—despite my fear of heights. Because I had a mission.
At the summit of the High Temple, after more than 100 steep steps, I said my prayer.
💔 “I still need him. I still need the rain to cleanse my path. I need the thunder and lightning to tell me that he is still here—showing up with the power he carried in life.”
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A Prayer to the Ancestors, A Call to Daniel
I called out to the ancestors, to Daniel, to the spirits of this sacred place.
I asked them to walk with me. To carry me when I stumble. To remind me that love, even in death, never leaves.
I have felt his presence before - they say that rain on your wedding day is good luck - well it stormed and then the sun came out:
At his funeral, the clouds hung over.
At his street dedication, when the rains came.
At last year’s Caribbean Carnival - the rain fell as I took the stage and the sun showed up immediately after.
In Cancun last year, when a hurricane mirrored my grief.
And now, in Belize, where the storm gave way to peace.
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The Maya’s Rituals of Faith
The Maya offered copal incense, cacao, and maize to the gods.
They aligned their temples with the stars, honoring cycles of life and death.
They called on crocodiles and jaguars as guardians of the spiritual and natural world.
Their faith was built through ritual and action, not blind belief.
My Daily Prayer to the Ancestors
Ancestors, known and unknown, who walked this earth before me, I call on you today.
Guide my steps when the path is unclear.
Protect my spirit when I am weary.
Love me when I feel unlovable.
Remind me of my strength when I feel weak.
Whisper wisdom to my heart when I forget who I am.
Clear my path of harm and open the doors to faith and hope.
May your courage live on in me, and may your struggles not be in vain.
I walk this life for you, because of you, and with you.
Ase. In lake’ch.
(“Ase” affirms energy. “In lake’ch” means “I am you, and you are me.”)
✨ “Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings while the dawn is still dark.” — Rabindranath Tagore
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My Lesson from Belize
In the darkness of loss, we must still sing.
On the river once named for strangers, I found belonging.
At the summit of the temple, I found my husband—still walking with me.
And in the winds of Belize, I found clarity, not chaos.
There is no other way to walk this journey than with hope.
From Belize, with love and remembrance,
Jennifer