A real fire in Colombia · A circle across distance

Living Fire

A monthly online gathering to sit with the fire, bring our offerings to the Earth, and remember a way of living grounded in gratitude, respect, and reciprocity.

Next fire · Día de Muertos · For the Ancestors

Monday, November 2 1:00–3:00 p.m. ET / Colombia

Live on Zoom Held in English Voluntary contribution

Register for November 2

We are going to begin our return. We have completed our mission; our days are ended. Think, then, of us. Do not erase us, nor forget us.

— Pop Wuj

November 2 · Día de Muertos

Their memory has been entrusted to our care.

We do not come to the ancestors only to ask for their protection. We also come to protect their memory.

Life reached us through them: through their bodies, their choices, their struggles, their knowledge, and the lands that sustained them. Remembering them is one of the forms our gratitude takes.

On November 2, we will bring their names, their stories, their lineages, and their territories to the fire. We will give thanks for what has reached us, tend what must not be erased, and listen for what their continuation in us asks us to protect, repair, or carry forward.

You may come with gratitude, grief, an unfinished relationship, a longing for forgiveness or reconciliation, or simply a name you do not want to be forgotten.

Monday, November 2 1:00–3:00 p.m. ET / Colombia

Live on Zoom Held in English No recording

Voluntary contribution. No one is excluded for lack of funds.

Bring a Name to the Fire

What the fire does

The fire receives what we bring.

My teacher Nan Faviana taught me that fire is the ear of the cosmos. Between Heart of Sky and Heart of Earth, it receives our grief, our questions, our prayers—and what we do not yet have words for.

The fire does not ask us to arrive with an answer or to resolve what we carry. It gives it a place in relationship: with the elements, the ancestors, the people gathered around it, and the wider life to which we belong.

What has been carried alone can be witnessed. Gratitude can become an offering. A question can be held without being rushed, until another way of seeing or moving becomes possible.

Who tends the fire

I’m Andrés Jiménez.

I tend this fire from Kaukitá, the nature reserve where I live in Pereira, Colombia.

I lived for four years on the shores of Lake Atitlán, Guatemala, where my relationship with ceremonial fire, cacao, and community took deeper form.

I was later initiated as an Ajq’ij in the Maya K’iche’ tradition under the guidance of Nan Faviana Cochoy Alva and Tat Pedro Yac Noj.

For each gathering, I prepare an offering of copal, seeds, herbs, and flowers. My role is to tend the fire, care for the circle, and share what my elders entrusted to me with gratitude, respect, and responsibility.

Read the Full Story

Before we gather

Come with
what is true.

You do not need experience with circles, cacao, or ceremony.

You do not need a clear intention or know what to say. We begin by arriving through breath and silence. There is space to speak, give thanks, ask for support, or simply listen.

Nothing needs to be performed. Listening is also participation.

Once a month, online

A live gathering on Zoom, held in English, with no recording.

A living fire at Kaukitá

I prepare the offering and tend the fire in Colombia throughout the gathering.

A flame where you are

You are invited to light a candle and join the fire across the distance.

Cacao, tea, or water

Bring whatever helps you arrive and listen. Cacao is welcome, never required.

Stay with the fire

Come once.
Return when you need to.

Each Living Fire is complete in itself. You are welcome to come for this gathering without making a longer commitment.

You may also return whenever the fire calls you back. Each gathering receives us in a different moment and gives what has changed another place to be witnessed.

Next fire · For the Ancestors

Monday, November 2 1:00–3:00 p.m. ET / Colombia

Live on Zoom Held in English Voluntary contribution

Register for November 2

Following fire December 21 · Winter Solstice