Remember...

Ancestral energy lives in the stars above us, the stones beneath us. Their memory gathers in oceans, rivers and seas. It hums its silent wisdom within the body of every tree.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

All the Ancestral Roads

Where I live, the trees are bursting with fire, revealing the true carotenoid and anthocyanin color of their leaves as the more dominant chlorophyll fades away. It’s a reminder that life has cycles. Even though the trees don’t die, they shed their leaves every autumn, to be reborn in the buds of spring. This is the time of year when we open to the ancestral energies around us, in preparation of honoring their memories at Samhain. But the ancestors around us are more than just the names and dates of those who lived so that we might be born.

Open to the Recent Dead, to those who have ceased breath since last Samhain. Open to the loss of the newly dead. Remember their lives and the affection you shared. Remember their struggles and their loves. Sing songs of them and make offerings to them, even as the grief wells raw within you. Wish them peace and safe passage as the veil opens to welcome them to what comes next. Take in breath and blaze through your days. Make memories in honor of those who no longer will.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

Open to your Beloved Dead, to those you have known in your lifetime who have crossed over. Remember the years of love. Remember the touch of hands and the sound of voices. Remember the lessons learned and the laughter. Remember the false days as well as the true ones, for no one is perfect. We do better to honor them by remembering them whole, flaws and all. Remember who they were to you, and what part they played in the journey of your life. Remember paths diverged and merged. Remember the sorrow of loss beneath the joys of having known them. Remember to let the joy outshine the grief. Remember those you loved who snuffed out their own light. Remember those who had no choice in when death took them. Remember those who suffered and remember their lives beyond mother, father, sibling, friend, husband, wife, grandparent. Remember the stories they told. Remember who they were.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

Open to the ancestors of your bloodline, to Those Who Came Before. Open to the mothers birthing mothers and the fathers seeding fathers. Open to the ripple of life flowing backward in time, beyond memory and language, beyond names and civilization. Those of us taking breath, our ancestors were among those who discovered fire and moved from caves to build shelters. Honor the lines of mothers and fathers that trail behind you, supporting you. Remember those, without whom, you could not exist.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

In some of our lives we are gifted with family we create. Open to your adopted ancestors, to the bloodlines of those who, in this life, claim you as one of their own. To those who claim you as daughter and son, brother and sister, grandchild… to them you are blood and that love opens a door for you to claim the energy of their lineage. Remember the ancestors of your family, both biological and built.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

Open to the ancestors of your spirituality, to all the lips that have uttered the prayers you utter. To the hands that have worked the magic and faith you do. Remember those who braved a path and questioned what was known, who built the foundation for your practice. Remember those whose hearts were pulled in the same direction of belief. Remember those who died because of their faith. Remember all those who found the courage to belief what they did because it felt right.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

Open to the ancestors of the land you live on, the city you live in, the county you reside in. Open to the energy of those who toiled and built and settled. Open to the energy of all those who lived in your home before you. Who farmed the land beneath you before it was a home. Who hunted the land beneath you before it was cleared for farmland. Remember those who saw promise in a wild landscape. Remember the wild that came before us.
What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

Open to the ancestors of the lands your bloodline came from. Open to the energy paths of the migration trails the feet of Those Who Came Before tread. Follow the tendrils back across the waters, across the mountains, across the valleys and deserts. Those lives, those carbon footprints are energy sources for you. Remember that all our generations trace back to a single ancestor. Remember that all are relations. We are all brothers, sisters, and cousins. We are all streamers rolling out from that first big human bang. You are my cousin. Remember that.

What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

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