Tepoztlán: A Journey That Changed Me

As I sit here looking at and downloading the photos from our recent trip to Tepoztlán, Mexico, I can’t help but reflect

on how much has changed in such a short period of time—how much I have changed. If someone had told me five or six years ago that this would be my life, I never would have believed them.

How It All Began

Our trip began with a book I found at a second-hand shop while I was back in Canada in May. With only a few minutes to browse, I trusted that the right book would find me. And it did. While working through my online classes with Pam Montgomery, she mentioned the author—Brooke Medicine Eagle—and the work they had done together. I knew instantly that the book needed to move to the top of my reading list. Before long I was on her website, exploring her offerings, when I discovered the gathering La Voz de las Abuelas de las Américas. Not long after that, I was signed up—along with more than 600 women from around the world—and planning our trip to Mexico.

Here is where the new me stepped up: planning a trip, using local transportation, in a country whose language I don’t speak, and which the media often portrays as dangerous.

Crossing Into Mexico

Our journey began with six hours on a local bus that took us across the border to Chetumal, Mexico. From there, we were either a 50-minute walk from our hotel or left to find a taxi. It was Halloween night, and most taxi drivers sped right past us. Eventually we found a few taxis parked in a mall lot, and one kind gentleman offered us a ride. After such a long day—and after not preparing properly, meaning we hadn’t eaten since early morning—our next mission after checking in was FOOD! We found a cute restaurant just a few minutes away, and soon enough we were eating Italian food in Mexico. We watched families celebrating Halloween, children in costumes, and saw the first signs of Día de los Muertos—a preview of the incredible decorations and altars we would see over the next few days.

The following morning, we found an adorable little café for breakfast before heading to the small local airport for our flight to Mexico City. The airport was easy to navigate, and soon we were seated on the plane—somehow in priority seats, fourth row! The two-hour flight cost around $120 USD one way, and once we landed, we found ourselves searching a massive airport for a tiny 2’ x 2’ “autobús” sign. With the help of a construction worker, we found it.

This next part tested my patience. Maybe it was my eagerness to get to Tepoztlán, but booking tickets for two different buses turned out to be the biggest challenge of the journey. Thankfully, with translation apps, technology, and a very patient ticket agent, we managed. The transfer between buses went smoothly, even though the station was huge. I was shocked by how many buses there were and how many people used them. After seeing Mexico City traffic at 6 p.m., I understood why. Our two-hour ride cost 290 pesos each (about $15 USD) and came with comfortable seats, TVs, air conditioning, and a washroom. The ride was smooth and even gave Corey—who is usually the driver—a chance to admire the breathtaking mountain views.

Arriving in Tepoztlán

Once we arrived, catching a cab was easy, and within fifteen minutes we reached our hostel, where we would spend the next seven nights. It was already dark, and I couldn’t wait to see the landscape in daylight.

The next morning, the magic of Tepoztlán revealed itself: cobblestone streets, vibrant murals around every corner, and the entire town alive with Día de los Muertos. Just three minutes from our hostel, a large cemetery overflowed with marigolds and families honoring their ancestors. Witnessing such a deeply rooted living tradition was beautiful.

Ceremony and Synchronicity

.That same morning, we admired the mountains before joining a temazcal(traditional Sweat Lodge) offered right at our hostel. It still makes me smile to think about how, when you trust, things fall into place. How did we end up in a hostel that offered exactly what we needed? Not only was the temazcal on the activity board, but they also offered yoga, meditation, kambo, and hapé ceremonies—just what the doctor ordered.

The temazcal ceremony was intense. Four gates, each with an important teaching—each offering time to reflect and share, to sing, to surrender. And each with so many grandmother stones. Sixteen stones per round meant so much heat.

After the ceremony, we showered, reflected, and then headed out to explore. We found the local market, where we had the chance to try local cuisine—even if we didn’t quite know what we’d ordered—and it was delicious. An ice cream shop claimed to have more than 500 flavors, though we only tried two. We spent the afternoon wandering, admiring the altars honoring ancestors, the architecture, and the murals that appeared around every corner. It was clear how much pride the locals take in their town. There was very little garbage, people greeted one another (including us), and not once did we feel pressured to buy anything or feel unsafe.

Fellow Travelers and the stories they share

In the evenings, we met fellow travelers. One man had sold everything and left Australia two years earlier. He hadn’t planned more than a week ahead since, and listening to him speak about traveling the world so freely was inspiring. Another man working at the hostel—originally from Germany—told us a story about surfing, falling off his board, and landing right in front of a great white shark. I nearly pooped my shorts! He still insisted they are gentle creatures… but I still won’t be swimming with them. We also met women from France and the Netherlands searching for “home,” and another woman who shared some of her Mexican Red Road teachings with me. Sometimes I wonder whether it’s the people we meet or the places we see that I love most about traveling.

The Sacred Stones

The next day we took local transportation through a couple of towns to the end of the line. It cost 10 pesos each (about 55 cents USD). We were on a mission to find two massive rocks known for their powerful energy. I’ll admit—I was a bit nervous. Our directions were, “Walk straight to the house, turn right, then at the end turn left… follow your nose?” But we found them. Two huge magical stones leaning together, radiating an undeniable energy. Sitting there—listening, feeling, being—was profound. It reminded me that when I still myself, I can receive the same messages on my own land.

La Voz de las Abuelas

Then the day came: the start of four days spent with over 600 women listening to the grandmothers, honoring the elements, dancing, singing, and remembering what life is truly about—authenticity, ceremony, love, and community. As I continue to integrate everything from the trip and the gathering, more will come through, but that’s a story for another day.

A Reminder from Within

Somewhere between the mountains of Tepoztlán, the heat of the temazcal, the songs of the grandmothers, and the quiet moments of reflection, something shifted in me. I discovered a clarity — soft, steady, and unmistakable — about what we are building on our land in Belize. This trip reaffirmed that what we’re creating isn’t just a place, but a living sanctuary: a space for ceremony, community, and remembering our roots. It feels like the spirit of that land whispered, “This is the path.” What we are crafting in Belize is an extension of that truth — a place where others can slow down, reconnect, and remember their own inward journey. As I return, I carry not just memories, but a renewed commitment to our vision, trusting my intuition, and holding space for what is to come.