Mask up relatives & be well! Sihasin is one of my favorite words in Diné bizaad. It means “reflection” as in the act of reflecting. Innately as Diné, we are instructed to make space for this necessary action. As a life-long journaler, I love being in this state innately. There is so much I learn about myself, the projects I am working on and the relationships I participate when I am huddled over my journal. As I scribble away, taking note of how I am feeling or if there is something particular I want to look back on, I am filled with the sensation of accomplishment. I appreciate this phase ..read more

Grownup Navajo is a community founded upon Diné teachings and philosophies. We believe in the inherent wisdom of our ancestors’ and beliefs given to us by the Diyin Diné’é. Foundational to these is the concept of K’é. An ideology, philosophy which translates into “kinship”.  K’é is a practice of how we relate to each other through our clan system. A practice which embraces each other as Bilá ashląądíí – “five-fingered people”. It is in this spirit of interconnectedness to others that Grownup Navajo vehemently condemns the police violence and murder of our Black relatives. We mourn the lo ..read more

  Since my son was born, I have held a deep, omnipresent longing for rest. Usually, this is a feeling I can sense as soon as my eyes peel open. Today was different. I woke to my playful babe, smiling and poking at my breast ready to be nourished at dawn. His twinkling eyes and loving smile greeted me with blissful joy. We laid in our cocoon. Snuggling and kissing one another with gentle pecks. Waking up to him each day is an indescribable blessing.   As we greeted the day and slowly left our bubble, I was bombarded with the frenzy of fear engulfing the world at the state of the pande ..read more

Photo by Hannah Manuelito   I come from an open-arms people and a family who shares. I have built a career sharing my thoughts, poems, snapshots of my life and myself. But last year, I felt a call to shift into a new way of being. 2018 was a year filled with many life changes both personal and professional. While, I was focused on navigating, reflecting and rising to the challenge of being more in the moment, I was called to go inward and protect…myself.   Now feeling able and willing, I am trying to answer this question, “how do you begin to tell a story you are still living out?” I ..read more

Photo by Jeff Slim   There are millions of stories in her hair. From the past, Of the future… Holding the strands in her hands she feels the power of her people’s resilience, the resonate breath of generations of people who have come before, …and the life of those yet to be born. ++++ Written for the answers we posses, in our bodies, in our hearts, may our prayers guide us and give us the strength to pull the answers out from within us so we can act to heal our people.     ..read more

Growing up I heard many stories. Shared by my late Nalí’s (paternal grandparents), my masaní (maternal grandmother) and from my parents about our life as Diné (Navajo). Whether it is was the poetic story of my Nalí Hastiin seeing my Nalí asdzaan for the first time. Or the stories my masaní would share about her time at boarding school. These stories were reminders of love, trial and the strong family I came from. Many of these stories reminded me how this country’s history is a repetitious contradiction of what is just and humane. As I have wri ..read more

I believe in time travel. I believe in the power of dreams because on some days, I can feel the memory of this ability within my vessel too. I understand dreams to be medicine. Sometimes, it is these tools which first communicate illness in our bodies, distortion in the fabric of our relationships and families. At times, it is the ancestors who tell us truths to quell our worries in these realms. They remind of the power we have yet to tap or even call-in on us and reach out when they feel we are not fully reaching for our potential. Many Indigenous communities used dreams as medicine to heal ..read more

I have missed writing. T’áá hwó’ ají t’éego. It hurts to write. Like the struggle of returning to my running practice a couple of weeks ago. My body is not used to sitting to type. I have grown accustomed to writing for myself. My mind does not want to focus on one thought. It has grown comfortable of the flow of the pen as it writes in my journal meandering across the page.   T’áá hwó’ ají t’éego. I took a break. Walked around the living room. Drank water. Bounced on my trampoline. This part of my day is one of my favorites. I love the freedom of jumping on this contraption. It has quell ..read more

When I started my new adventure, I had no idea how much “new” I would be surrounded by. From finding a new coffee shop to hang out in to searching for a favorite new eatery to get carry-out from, life has been full of “firsts”. I’ve have also been seeking the answer to a new question – what songs do I sing to help the roots I am planting in this community be the healthiest?   I remember planting with my late Nalí asdzaan (paternal grandmother) when I was little. I love this memory of ours. From the feel of placing the jewel-toned corn kernels in the moist earth to the heat of the summer d ..read more

The path is created by walking it. I hear my late Nalí asdzaan (paternal grandmother) in my ear everyday saying, “you know what to do.” This message is now coupled with the reassurance of my parents, who remind me to trust my strength. Opportunities have manifested from invitations to empowering events, messages from followers and friends. This kind of faith in self, creativity & community has guided the journey of Grownup Navajo and carried us to our latest project. In a conversation earlier this year with the Executive Director of Rezilience Indigenous Arts Experience, Warren Montoya, I ..read more