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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