Un Cafecito Negro: Working the Healing Magic of Ancestral Plant Spirits

Written by: Catherine Feliz

Harlem is a young mother that holds me with care; but tonight, I’ll drag my body to a second floor loft in Bushwick with no address listed, to be reborn by the queer, nihilist, revolt sounds of Dreamcrusher. We surrender through portals. The dark Goddxss won’t let go ‘til we’re stripped and left covered in each other’s sweaty grime and limerent desires; birthed anew. The next morning, I gather day old Cafe Bustelo grinds, add brown sugar, coconut oil, and essential oils of grapefruit, frankincense, and myrrh to make a body scrub to use in the shower. The Saturnian coffee spirits will unblock stagnant flows to make way for new inspired action of citrus with the protection of frankincense and myrrh. 

I’ll do an oracle reading from the last drops to receive guidance from honorable ancestors, then clear my space with splashes of rue dipped in freshwater. This plant wash has a way of clearing my spirit from the weight of everything that keeps me sick, “the elevators-covered-in-piss- diaspora-blues-ain’t-got-no-home-in-this-world-can-i-swipe-a-ride-flirting-with-all-annihilation- negra-deciphering-colonialist-clues-another-femme-gone-missing” kind of pain. I’ll repeat this again when the crud of the cis-het-yt-capitalist-patriarchy dares to cling to my glittering bell sleeves. 

Once again, I’ll choose to remember what my bones already know. I’ll choose to walk in freedom with the plant and ancestral guides showing me that the liminal pains I feel as a first generation, Afro-Dominican, visionary, sad, queer femme are also part of my magic. This is what my wholeness looks like, the sum of many parts, shining in contradiction to dominant Western paradigms. In eternal cosmic harmony. 

Once again, I’ll choose to remember what my bones already know. I’ll choose to walk in freedom with the plant and ancestral guides showing me that the liminal pains I feel as a first generation, Afro-Dominican, visionary, sad, queer femme are also part of my magic. This is what my wholeness looks like, the sum of many parts, shining in contradiction to dominant Western paradigms. In eternal cosmic harmony. 

My surname, Feliz, is the most common in the Barahona province of Southwestern Dominican Republic. A given name meaning happy, lucky, and fertile, Feliz likely originated from the Valladolid province of Northern Spain. Barahona is well known for its wild, lush, and mountainous landscapes rich with biodiversity, masquerade traditions, coffee plantations, gold mining sites, and the legacy of its cimarrones. In alliance with other rebellious enslaved Indigenous Taino folks, the cimarrones, were enslaved Africans who rebelled and created self 

reliant communities. Migrating to Lenape land, New York City, from Barahona, my parents, both with Feliz surnames, would watch the credits after a movie and debate which names sounded more American. And so is the story of my name, Catherine Feliz, and perhaps yours too. It is one of uproot, adaptation, and the responsibility: to carry on or to change a story that was woven before our earthly arrival. 

Four years ago on my birthday, I took the train to Inwood Hill Park and turned to the land spirits to create medicine. A pilgrimage; with my electric blue twists tickling the dirt, I bent over and uprooted burdock, dandelion, and clover. Before harvesting, I offered a prayer to the caretakers before me that made the continuation of this life force possible, and listened to the whispers of my new plant friends. It was my first intentional act of commitment to carry on the legacy of the medicine women who came before me. I wanted to validate and build upon the healing technologies I’ve grown up with, and the dreams of my ancestors who’ve been guiding my path and speaking to me: “mija atrevete! you hold all the wisdom!” 

There are three main sets of ancestral kin: your blood ancestors, the dead below your feet, and the kinfolk collected on your soul’s path. The plants born to our ancestral blood lines carry the genetic composition and memory of the places that formed our past generations. Coffee, for example, is a sacred plant whose medicine has been exploited for capitalist gain alongside the labor of my recent ancestors who’ve worked in plantations over the past 500 years. We must also look to the ancestors of the land that we currently inhabit, the dead below our feet. Who were the human and non-human caretakers of this land? What grows abundantly around me? I’ve grown up on stolen Lenape Land, in a city that’s obsessed with wiping it’s slate clean to pave the way for new investors. The ancestral land spirits around me keep me accountable to the hearts and magic of survivors everywhere. Lastly, being that we’re resourceful, creative, intelligent beings; there are also ancestral plants we may work with from the memory of a past life. Mugwort, for instance, has been a faithful ally to me throughout many lifetimes. I work with this diverse community of plant allies to stay rooted, adaptive, and receptive to transformative healing. 

When I feel utterly and invisibly alone, like I’m drowning in a sea of generational trauma, I remember that I can act – create – dream from the embodied wisdom of my plant spirit allies. We can all connect with the divine energies of plants to help heal ourselves and our communities from the open wounds of colonialism. Plants teach us how to approach each other like the sacred beings we are. I don’t take or use plants. I work with them. I call my work plant spirit medicine because I tap in to communicate with the spirit of the plant. With their consent, and, most of the time, guidance, I’m able to craft the most potent elixirs. 

For you, my loves, I offer the medicine: Soldier of Love Water. The marriage of agua florida and rose water protect and fortifies the heart for use when living each day in your body feels like a battlefield. Agua florida is a holy water found in botanicas and markets across the Caribbean and Latin America. It’s made from highly aromatic medicinal plants like bergamot, lavender, and neroli. To make your own, create a decoction of fresh herbs, or add essential oil drops to tap water and clear alcohol depending on what’s accessible to you. The rose water should be made separately, preferably while listening to Sade or wearing your finest silks. Blend the waters into a spray bottle and bless yourself when in need of that badass femme courage that makes the world go round. With that sweet courage continue to heal, care for each other, decolonize, and seed new brilliant and liberated present futures. In the words of Gloria Anzaldua, may we gather the strength to go from “being the sacrificial goat to becoming the officiating priestess at the crossroads”. 

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