The Circle of Reciprocity

Photo by Margarita

Respect. Gratitude. Reciprocity. That's what the abuelos teach — the three things a life needs to stay in harmony, whether it's a relationship, a livelihood, or a tradition like this one.

Every piece of copal that reaches your hands has already passed through many hands before it got there. But reciprocity doesn't end when the resin does.

Giving Something Back

Each year, we support intertribal gatherings where different pueblos come together to pray at an altar known as the Kiva. We help with service and ceremony, and we look after the elders who take part — their transportation, their meals, a place to stay. We gift them copal as thanks for their prayers — for the earth, for all of us, for everyone there planting their intentions — and to help with the cost of their ceremonies. We also donate incense, oil, and resin: some of it sold to support the gathering itself, some of it used in temazcal.

It isn't a program, or something we track. It's simply part of how we understood copal from the beginning: something that moves in a circle, not a straight line.

For me, this has been one of the quiet blessings of Temple Copal. The main ceremonies I hold each year — the Kiva, the solstices, the equinoxes, the new year — carry no charge; that work stays a form of service. My private work is different, and it does have a cost. But I don't need to sell that private work out of necessity — the support copal has given me frees that practice to exist on its own terms, at its own level.