Guest Blog

By Ximena Aguilar Vega on March 19, 2026

(inspired by the poem, see postscript)

Image: A scenic view of Port Lockroy taken during the Antarctic voyage of Tiffany Vora and Ximena Vega with the Homeward Bound Community | November 2023

In those times before time existed, perhaps all that surrounded us was contemplation, volume, and density. We existed in a state of heavy, silent thought, our essence defined by the exact space we pressed into and the tangible heaviness we impressed on the earth, as if we were rivers of stone. To be ice was to be the memory of the water, a story so dense it turned humidity into crystals. Our only torment began with spring's arrival, a profound, elemental stirring in our molecules. As if the earth itself awakened, languages formed in rock and mud, colouring the silent, white voids with earth tones. We awakened the landscape's voices, keeping those voices vibrant and alive until the height of summer, grinding the world into the silt of life.

A truth so visible it feels heavy. Those frozen rivers that dress the rebellious mountains of Patagonia in a fractured white are not just landmarks or objects of study. They are our ancestors. They are our tatara tatara tatara tatara… abuelos. There is no need for deep searching or complex theories to find this connection. Our body is made of more water than bone, and we know that ice is nothing more than cold, cold water. The liquid currently moving through your heart, hydrating your brain, and flowing through your veins is the cycled spirit of an unknown relative, a “distant” glacier. We are a walking, breathing extension of the cryosphere. The wise giants of the Last Ice Age have not disappeared; they are in you, and me.

When We Were Still Draped Over the Mountains

Image: The forbidding coastline of Elephant Island, South Shetland Islands, Antarctica | Paul Carroll | Unsplash

When did we forget to crack our fears? When did we lose the ability to release our demons the way our ancestors of ice do, with that thunderous, honest, free sound of shifting weight? Perhaps the wrinkles that trace our skin are not just signs of age, but stories, maps being uncovered of what the wind once wrote upon our bodies long ago, when we were still draped over the mountains. Our skin might be a record of every storm, a history written in blue-veined ice that we now carry in our human warmth.

The Sun would shape our cracks, drawing water out of us like a slow, deep breath. It carried our waters in an accelerated, controlled pulse, a direct and urgent flow to awaken life wherever it touched. In that flow, we became one with the salt and the sea, joining the ocean as rain, rivers, or streams. We became home for the beings that breathe beneath the water’s surface, and the land would drink from us to sustain its own green memory. We returned to the world murmurs of patience and long, slow seasons of reflection. We were the rhythm that allowed the world to breathe.

We are the Witnesses of Our Own Thinning

Image: Zodiac passing by a small piece of an iceberg, Antarctica | Yuriy Rzhemovskiy | Unsplash

But now, the Sun burns us. Our mouths are full of sores. These llagas are the signs of a rhythm that has been forced to move too fast, a fever that breaks the ancient pulse. Our voices break, multiply, and echo in the thinning air of the South, East, North, and West. We had to decide between the sky, the sea, and the rock; among the trees, a creature wrapped in the dark, the deep water, or the flow of human life. We have eyes now; we are the thunderous, swollen weep after an outburst flood. We are the witnesses of our own thinning.

Allowing the Wise Giants the Silence They Need to Recover

We have turned the exploration of our kin into a hunt for trophies, trekking across their vital pillars to witness a decline we refuse to stop. Our very presence, our invasive curiosity, causes a damage more severe than we want to acknowledge. Mother Earth possesses the wisdom to heal herself; she is the ultimate architect of regeneration. She needs our help, but not in the form of more "open-heart surgeries" performed with invasive technologies or intrusive monitoring. We do not need to colonize the ice to save it. We must help her by strengthening her resilience, which often means stepping back and allowing the Wise Giants the silence they need to recover.

A Deeper Reckoning

Image: Sunset at Deception Island, taken during the Antarctic voyage of Tiffany Vora and Ximena Vega with the Homeward Bound Community | November 2023

We must face a hard truth on this International Day of Glaciers: unless we are willing to give up our privileges, we cannot preserve glaciers. No amount of money, advanced technology, or goodwill will resolve the problems we have caused by treating these vital pillars as objects at our service. This is not simply about blaming those responsible, but about a deeper reckoning. It means recognizing glaciers not as utilitarian objects or mere resources, but as our kin. Saving the ice is saving us; it is honouring a part of us still connected to the earth’s ancient rhythm. We were once glaciers, and in our water, we still are.

A Note from Ximena

It is with ice and seawater, above all, that I have forged a deep bond. I explore and facilitate processes in which disciplines break down and mingle, creating the fertile ground for new, emerging knowledges to surface, be seen, and develop.

My practice is relational and embodied: from leading international fieldwork in polar regions to co-creating with communities, I hold space for radical creativity and for research that listens, cares, adapts, and belongs. My questions focus on interactions among sunlight, glaciers, and cold marine waters to improve the monitoring and protection of high-latitude nearshore ecosystems. I also work with non-human languages, codes, and patterns as an exercise in transmuting human languages into better consonance with the planet.

The way you can support me is by subscribing to my Substack, and following me on Instagram and LinkedIn. You can also learn more at www.ximena-a-vega.com.

About Tiffany

Dr. Tiffany Vora speaks, writes, and advises on how to harness technology to build the best possible future(s). She is an expert in biotech, health, & innovation.

For a full list of topics and collaboration opportunities, visit Tiffany’s Work Together webpage.

Get bio-inspiration and future-focused insights straight to your inbox by subscribing to her newsletter, Be Voracious. And be sure to follow Tiffany on LinkedIn, Instagram, Youtube, and X for conversations on building a better future.