Honoring Día de los Muertos

A Brief History and Cultural Roots

Día de los Muertos, also known as Day of the Dead, Día de Muertos, or Día de Difuntos depending on the region, is deeply rooted in Mesoamerican traditions. Cultures like the Aztecs and the Mayans viewed death not as an end, but as a transition to another realm of existence. Our departed dear ones were not gone, they’d merely transitioned into a new beginning.

In these pre-Hispanic beliefs, the afterlife was simply another stage of life, and honoring the deceased was about welcoming them back for a special visit so that we could reminisce with them on a life well-lived and a legacy that transcended their physical existence.

This sometimes contrasts with the way that other traditions observe this time, which may include more of a focus on warding off dark spirits rather than inviting them in, as well as a return inward rather than an outward experience. This would make sense considering that the traditions that led to Día de Muertos would’ve taken place during the hot summer months, but were later shifted to the fall months once the Spanish came to the Americas and the traditions became integrated.

I want to emphasize that both perspectives are quite valid in their own ways and are reflective of their respective regions, seasons, cultural practices, and physical needs of the times. In my opinion, sacred practices should be respected for their differences as well as similarities. This is how we truly embrace one another.

Respecting the Tradition and Culture

As I’ve shared, while I personally enjoy sharing Day of the Dead traditions, I believe that if someone outside the culture is inspired to take on these vibrant practices into their own households, it’s important to approach them with respectful curiosity. Reading about the rich history of the Aztec, Mayan, and other Mesoamerican peoples and supporting the culture is a meaningful step. After all this ancient tradition is about honoring the legacy of those who came before us and it’s a celebration that should be approached with care and gratitude. A gentle reminder that if you do not wish to embrace the cultures—both past and present—that are associated with Day of the Dead, then this practice might not be for you. Otherwise, I warmly invite you to delve deeper and examine if this way of celebrating your loved ones resonates with you and calls out to your heart. If so, I am always excited to share my practices and tips for creating your own personal ofrenda! I adore this time of the year, and will gladly be a resource for anyone with questions.

Creating an Ofrenda: Steps and Elements

The altar, or ofrenda, is the centerpiece of the celebration. While some may use a single-level table, others incorporate two, three, or even seven levels. Each level has meaning and can be incorporated into your practice as you see fit. I usually incorporate the three levels, which represent the underworld, earth, and heaven.

On the lower level, I place sugar skulls, catrinas and cempasuchíl (marigolds), or flor de muerto, to line and perfume the path for the spirits of our loved ones to cross over in style! Candles also help light their way. On the earth level, I offer water and favorite foods or drinks of our loved ones—like tamales, a beer, hot cacao, or pan de muerto—so they know that they are remembered and welcomed into our space. On the top level, I place their photos, symbolizing their place of honor within our hearts. I also add candles here, and sometimes decorate the photos with monarch butterflies because of their representation of transformation and rebirth. The monarch is also of personal importance to me as it is a message from a loved one who is dearly missed. I sometimes also add dragonflies or hummingbirds for similar reasons.

Incorporating the Four Elements: A Tapestry of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire

When we craft an ofrenda, we weave the ancient and the present together by inviting the four elements to join us. Each element is also a symbolic guest, bringing its own language of nature and energy to the altar.

For earth, we can place a vase of local, seasonal flowers or marigolds. This ceremonial flower is tied to the Aztec goddess Mictecacihuatl, the Lady of the Dead, who guards the bones of the deceased and presides over the festivals. She represents both death and rebirth. We can scatter marigold petals, create garlands, or craft an arch of them to form a bridge. Those sun-colored blooms whisper to us of soil, sunlight, perfume and memory. We might also place a small dish of salt, a crystal of the earth that purifies and grounds the space.

Air is invited with the curling tendrils of copal, palo santo or incense, rising like ancestral breath into the sky. We might also welcome air with the delicate wings of a butterfly motif or a feather that has landed in our path, reminding us that our prayers and memories are carried on the gentlest breeze. Likewise, dragonflies and hummingbirds are also beautiful, symbolic additions to one’s altar. They are messengers and travelers that traverse space and time to carry our messages between dimensions.

Water is represented by an earthen mug of water, a vessel of life’s flow. I often place a bowl of cacao that merges the essence of earth and water into one, while also connecting me to my Mayan roots. This offering is a drink for the souls, a reminder that we honor their journey and quench their thirst for connection. For added fun, you can add beer or tequila if the deceased enjoyed a friendly libation.

And for fire, we light candles, each flame a beacon that guides our loved ones home and adds a warm glow to the altar. The flicker of each candle is like a conversation between worlds, a joyful dance of light that transmits the message: “You are remembered, you are cherished, you are welcome here.”

In blending these elements, we do more than create a ritual space—we create a living tapestry of nature and spirit, a blending of dimensions where the veil disintegrates and our hearts beat together with theirs within that liminal space. We embrace a celebration that is as colorful and layered as life itself.

Observation Days

Day of the Dead is observed starting at midnight on November 1st, known as Día de los Angelitos for the spirits of children, and continuing into November 2nd, which is for adults and all the departed. This is when families gather, visit cemeteries, decorate graves, and share meals like tamales, pan de muerto, and the favorite foods of their loved ones. It’s a time of storytelling, music, and remembering that our loved ones live on through us.

There have been more recent additions to the celebrations. For example, we also observe our mascotas, or pets, on the evening of October 27th. While many homes already incorporated this practice into their homes, having a designated day is a welcome addition and allows us to spend time with the beloved animals who have been our most loyal companions. I often speak to each of their photos, thanking them for the unique gift and lesson that each one brought into my life. I imagine each one as a colorful alebrije who accompanies me whenever I am I need of comfort and play in my life.

I admit that I often prepare my ofrenda well in advance of these dates because I enjoy the ritual and the sacred pause that it invites me to partake in every time that I walk by the ofrenda. This is a communal space where all are invited to add to the altar and stand before our loved ones, to reminisce on their laughter, share a meaningful story, hear their favorite song, recall a beloved memory. We can whisper to them what we don’t often say aloud, knowing that they hear us, they support us, and—for a few candlelit moments—their hearts unite with ours.