“When we speak of medicine, we speak of cacao"
Personal Instagram Story screenshot of Nana Marina Cruz leading a sacred cacao ceremony from Guatemala.
My journey with cacao began in the early days of the pandemic, which meant my exposure to cacao ceremonies has been chiefly virtual. With the help of the internet, I’ve connected with Mayan elders who have protected indigenous knowledge and the powerful medicine of cacao.
In December of 2021, I attended a virtual ceremony with Nana Marina Cruz, a Tz’utujil healer protecting Mayan traditions. She is a spiritual guide of the old practices and a ceremonial leader of fire, tobacco, cacao, and sweat lodges (temazcals).
Her ceremony confirmed why I tread softly with cacao-related offerings. I’m paraphrasing below, but here is something I took notes on intently:
"When we speak of medicine, we speak of cacao. The elders never spoke of the origins of cacao. They did not worry about where the cacao seed was planted or cultivated. It didn't matter. Ultimately, they only worried about the seed, putting in their energy to see it grow and bear the medicine we needed. What we do know is that this is a native medicine of Mesoamerica. Cacao, like us, begins as seeds, and if we are patient, we will see what grows."
What I understood from Nana Marina is early humans didn't have a dogma or handbook on how to use cacao and what it’s medicinal properties were. Over many thousands of years, the cacao tree became domesticated through its relationship with us. As the plant evolved, so did we. It’s a symbiotic relationship that continues to develop even now.
Nana continued to explain that many born with a spiritual mission in Mesoamerica, such as curanderas, comadronas, or spiritual guides, led their community in partnership with the medicine of cacao which was passed down to them by generations before them. There were many ways to work with cacao. I’ve even heard how the medicine can also come from sitting beneath the shade of a cacao tree. What started to intrigue me is how sacred many aspects of nature come alive in ancestral communities like theirs. What I also gather is inherent to nature is patience. The cultivation of cacao begins with the seed and from that point, we begin a process of learning.
Therefore, the words from Nana have remained like a seed in my heart. Although I feel some kind of ownership because indigenous blood runs through my veins, I realize this practice is not simply about your “blood” right to it. This is a relationship to cultivate, to honor and work with authentically. It is not owned, it is an invitation. The most encouraging advice I’ve ever received regarding cacao is to “begin with gratitude.” If you need help with where to begin building your relationship with cacao, begin by giving thanks. Give thanks to the tree that sits miles away from you and bore the fruit. Thank the enriched soil where the roots grow. Thank the wind that kept disease away from the tree. Thank the rainfall that would come to hydrate the tree and thank the sun for sparking the chemical process to keep this tree alive. Thank all the things that needed to happen to allow you to have your cup of cacao in front of you — down to the mail carrier who delivered it to your doorstep. As I watched Nana Marina stoke the fire in the middle of her altar space, I thanked the spirit of cacao for its willingness to have an ongoing relation to us as humans. I thank it for its ability to connect me to something larger than myself and allowing me to see the continuous network of life.
