Midlife Shaman: Maria da Silva
A journey to ancestral lands is not an act of nostalgia; it is one of the most forward-moving things a woman in midlife can do.
There is a particular kind of courage required to go back, not to revisit a place as a tourist, but to return as a seeker. This year, in what many would call my third act, I chose to travel to all nine islands of the Azores, the land of my birth. Not simply to see them, but to listen. To the wind that shaped my ancestors. To the earth that held their footsteps. To something ancient within myself that had been quietly waiting for me to come home.
When the Calling Gets Louder
The idea did not arrive as a grand plan. It came more like a whisper, a gentle but persistent nudge that grew louder the more I tried to ignore it. Why now? Why all nine islands? I am at an age where many begin to slow down, to narrow their worlds. But something in me is expanding, not contracting. Retirement, I have come to see, is not an ending — it is an opening. A sacred invitation to finally do the things that have been calling me for years, perhaps even for a lifetime.
Nine Islands, Nine Conversations
Each island met me differently. Some greeted me with lush, volcanic green, others with stark, obsidian, quiet strength. But what surprised me most was not their beauty — it was their familiarity. I did not feel like I was discovering these places. I felt as though I was remembering them.
The Land Holds Memory
There is a way of experiencing land that goes beyond sightseeing. I began to understand this journey through a more shamanistic lens, the idea that the land is not just something we stand upon, but something we are in relationship with. The land holds memory. It listens. It speaks, if we are willing to slow down enough to hear it. National Geographic explores why certain places feel sacred to the human spirit, and what I found on these islands confirms what researchers and seekers alike have described: the relationship between person and place is real, and it changes you.
And so I walked. Not to get somewhere, but to be with. I stood in the wind and let it move through me. I listened to the ocean not as background noise, but as something ancient and knowing. I placed my hands on stone and felt, in some quiet and wordless way, that I was touching something that had also touched those who came before me.
What a Journey to Ancestral Lands Actually Teaches You
We often think of ancestry as something behind us, a line of people stretching back through time. But on these islands, I felt something different. I felt my ancestors beside me. Not as figures from history, but as a living presence, woven into the brisk, ocean-kissed air, the volcanic soil, the rhythm of the place. It was not an intellectual understanding. It was something I felt in my body. A recognition. A belonging that required no explanation.
In that belonging, something shifted.
I began to see that going back is not about returning to who we once were. It is about gathering the parts of ourselves we may have left behind. It is about integration. The landscapes of my ancestry did not pull me backward — they moved me forward, more whole, more grounded, more aware of who I am and where I come from. If you have ever felt the quiet pull toward finding home after 50, this is where that pull can lead.
It Is Never Too Late to Begin
There is a quiet myth we are told, especially as women, that there is a window for beginning, and that once it closes, certain dreams are no longer available to us. I no longer believe this. If anything, I believe the opposite. There is a depth of knowing that only comes with time. A clarity. A willingness to choose what truly matters.
This journey to all nine islands was something I had always wanted to do. And yet, it took me reaching this stage of life to fully say yes to it. Not halfway. Not someday. But now.
What I discovered is that it is never too late to begin something that calls to your soul. In fact, there may be no better time.
Through this quest of visiting all nine islands in the Azores, I thought I was returning to a place. Instead, I was returning to a part of myself that had never left. The islands did not ask anything of me except that I arrive, open, willing, and ready to remember. And in that remembering, I found something both grounding and expansive: that we are not separate from where we come from. We are extensions of it.
And sometimes, the path forward begins by going back.
A Quiet Return: Try This Yourself
You don’t need to travel far to begin your own return.
Choose a place that holds meaning for you, a childhood street, a shoreline, a park, even a room in your home.
Go there without an agenda. Not to do, but to listen. Notice what arises:
- What feels familiar?
- What memories surface?
- What part of you feels seen again?
Let the place meet you. Let it remind you of something you may have forgotten.
Sometimes, what we are seeking is not ahead of us, but within reach, waiting patiently for us to return.
About the Author:
Maria da Silva is a practicing shaman, writer and traveler who lives in Plymouth, Massachusetts and travels frequently to her home islands of the Azores. The founder of Wise Shaman Within, she is bringing peace, healing, and light to the world one client and one workshop at a time. Maria provides individual client sessions and also facilitates workshops in both the USA and Portugal. Visit her website: Wise Shaman Within.
