The night arrived when even the most atheist prays to the fire and even the most rational throws themselves into the sea as if Yemayá were the Siri of emotions. Yes, it's San Juan. The night of "I don't believe in anything but just in case", of "I don't do witchcraft but light the red candle", and of "clean my aura, but don't mess up my hair".
And there they are. All of them. Huddled on the beach, with papers full of desires they haven't worked for in their lives. They want love without loving themselves, money without moving, peace without letting go of a single grudge. And they write all this with a Bic pen and throw it into the fire as if that were enough.
But well, since I'm not just poison but also a solution, let's talk about several cleansings that do work. Some that smell of fresh fruit, the sea, and devotion. Some that Yemayá does pick up, does listen to, and does honor.
Fire is sacred. And that night, it's not just for selfies and clumsy jumps. It's there for you to talk to it, to give it what you can't keep carrying. It's the burning presence of Changó, master of lightning, the drum, power, and justice. If you have the courage, write down what hurts you, what holds you back, what doesn't let you move forward, and let it burn. But do it with respect, because you don't play with Changó. He cleanses with fire, but he also destroys if you act smart.
Want a ritual that works? Well, here it goes:
The cleansing of the 7 fruits for Yemayá:
• A coconut (mental clarity)
• A papaya (opening of paths)
• An apple (protection)
• A banana (abundance)
• A pear (harmony)
• A grape (prosperity)
• An orange or melon (joy and sweetness)
You pass each fruit over your body, from head to toe, saying what you want that fruit to cleanse or bring you. With clarity, with respect, without rushing.
Then you go to the sea. With the fruits. You stand in front of the waves. You speak to Yemayá with your heart in your hand. And you leave the fruits on the shore, WITHOUT turning your back to the sea. Because the mother of the world is looked at with gratitude, not with carelessness. Place your offering. Ask. Give thanks. And retreat with dignity.
And for the santeros or believers who have been around for a short time, and for anyone who wants to approach but doesn't have knowledge on the subject: don't do things without knowing. If your godparents have abandoned you—which is unfortunately too common—or you don't have anyone to guide you, leave social media and open books. Get informed, study, ask with respect. The spiritual path is not a fashion game or a decoration for Instagram.
And I talk about Yemayá and Changó because they are the two elements, water and fire, that are most present that night. But you can adjust your rituals to the esoteric tradition that attracts you the most. For example:
- Eleguá is given three candies and you pass three guayabos over your body. You light two red candles and leave the offerings at a crossroads, asking him to open your paths, protect you from enemies, and guide you in important decisions.
- You can dedicate a cup with honey, cinnamon, and yellow flowers to Ochún, to attract love and charm.
- You can light a white candle for Obbatalá and ask for peace and balance, leaving rice pudding or cocoa butter.
- You can offer Oggún cane, tobacco, and a green candle in a pot or next to an iron, so that he opens paths for you with strength and courage.
And no, I don't forget about her: Pomba Gira. If you're into love, passion, and elegant revenge, prepare a red candle well anointed with honey, cinnamon, and perfume for her. Three cigars, a little sweet wine, and clear words. Ask her from the depths of your desire, but don't lie. She doesn't tolerate half measures or favors without purpose.
And for those who walk the Venezuelan spiritualism, this night is conducive to several powerful cleansings. A good cleansing with a cigar, and if you can, a cigar lit in reverse (on the leaf side) dedicated to Don Juan del Volteo, asking him to remove the bad, turn the twisted, and return what is fair to you. Do it on the beach.
And while you're there, enter the sea and loudly ask Queen María Lionza to cleanse you with her waters, to drag away the evil and leave your soul new. As Rubén Blades said: "María Lionza, do me a little miracle and I'll bring you bouquets of flowers". Finish with a bath of white flowers, rosemary, and basil. Holy water if you have it.
So this San Juan, if you're going to do something, do it right. If you're going to ask Yemayá, make her an offering, not an emotional blackmail. If you're going to light a candle, let it be with faith, not with urgency. And if you don't know what to do: be quiet, listen, and don't get in the way.
And if you need advice on who to ask and where to get esoteric ingredients for that night, take a walk through Bazar Baruta, Dr. Negrín street, and I'm sure that in addition to getting the ingredients, the ones who attend you will even make you a scheme.
And please, one more thing: leave the beach as you found it or better. The deities don't need your garbage. If you do a ritual, collect what is not biodegradable, bring a bag for your waste, and respect the environment. The sea is sacred, but it is also home to many living beings. Don't turn your offering into pollution.
Because the orishas are not influencers. They are power. And if you don't take your life seriously, don't expect them to.
