Becoming 2260 Hamilton

Claiming My Mythmaker Voice

In my first piece, I spoke about my first Tarot deck and discovering my intuitive talent. But that wasn’t my first exposure to the world of the supernatural. My family had always believed in magic. Intuition, guiding voices, and spirits who protected us from the world beyond were part of our shared heritage and whispered stories.

I grew up with the rituals of folk magic that many African American families practiced—candles lit at home, whispered prayers, Psalms recited from the Bible for success, to attract money, or to dispel evil. Often called “rootwork” or “Hoodoo” in some circles, these traditions wove themselves into the fabric of my everyday life and formed part of my cultural heritage.

As I grew, these beliefs became the foundation of my spiritual awakening. But it wasn’t until my teenage years in the melting pot that was New York City—specifically the borough of the Bronx—that I truly understood the magic that lived in the very air I breathed.

Surrounded by the vivid cultural beliefs of Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, Afro-Cubans, and so many more, I learned the spiritual systems of the Caribbean. I listened to their stories, witnessed their rituals, and saw the magic that lived in the small, candle-lit basements they called “Centros,” where people went to consult spiritualists and seek “remedios” (folk remedies) for their problems.

I went to drum parties—Cajón de los Muertos (literally “Box of the Dead,” a drumming ceremony to honor the spirits)—where drummers beat out complex rhythms on congas and sang songs to call the spirits down to Earth. I watched people dance in honor of the dead, and I saw the change in their faces when the spirits crossed the veil and joined the living in the dance.

Magic and mystery became my constant companions, shaping my experience and deepening my belief that the world contains far more magic than our natural eyes can perceive.

After a while, the sound of the drums, the songs, and the stories told by elders—often in Spanish, which I had to listen to and struggle to translate because Spanish wasn’t my native tongue—found root in the soil of my soul. I flourished like a flower opening to the sun.

I learned the secrets of the dance and the piercing of the veil. I learned to listen to the whispers of the spirits and open myself fully to my intuition. What started with the medium of Tarot blossomed into the discernment of spirits. I began to walk the path in between the world we all live in and the world just barely seen in glimpses and talked about in whispers.

So when I began to write, I knew that my voice had to speak with all the wonder I imagined as a child—growing up in the culture and tradition of rootworking. But it also had to speak with the discernment of one who had pulled back the curtain and peered into the unseen world of the spirit, carried within the traditions of the Diaspora.

So my journey began, and I wrote. The world my characters live in is always one where the familiar and the normal exist side by side with the extraordinary—the world of magic. My characters have always had one foot in this world and one foot in the world beyond.

It’s that dichotomy I strive to explore, challenging my readers to suspend disbelief and imagine the possibilities.

Until next time, remember that we live in a world of magic—and sometimes, when we least expect it, we can step out of the normal into the world beyond.

Thank you for walking this path with me.
I’d love to hear your thoughts—share your own experiences of magic, or let me know how you connect with these stories. If you’re not already subscribed, make sure to hit that Subscribe button so you never miss a step on this journey into the world beyond.