Our ancestors are our roots.
Our ancestors are our roots.
They are the foundation upon which we walk. They are the tapestry we are woven of and are weaving from. They carry the wisdom of all that has played out until this very moment. They carry the wisdom of understanding what has gotten us here. They carry the wisdom of mistakes made, and medicines honored. They carry our collective history. They can see where the earth is crumbling, and they are part of the collective consciousness that is beckoning us forward.
Maybe they didn’t all cross over with clear sight, but our ancestors all carry stories. They all carry a long line of experiences of pain, and love. Of regret, remorse, and realization. They all carry threads of understanding and mystery. By dropping into a holy pause, realizing we are all not that different, feeling into them, and listening — there is always something to gain. Maybe it’s clarity, and maybe it’s a boundary. Maybe it’s a guidance of what to do, or what not to do. Maybe it’s simply seeing with new eyes. Regardless, without our past, we will have lost all that’s been gained and will make the same mistakes, and relive the same pains again and again.
Our ancestors are not confined to our bloodline — are ancestors are vast. Our ancestors are all of humanity who have walked before us. You could even say they are all of life who have walked before us. The earth is the original mother. Her children are the trees, mycelium, flowers, animals, waterways, rocks, air, and fire and the keepers of ancient knowledge we would be wise to listen to. They have watched generations, and the eternal timeline that has been her and our existence. Have this awareness when you walk through the forest and swim in the ocean. Have this awareness when the birds sing, and lightning strikes. When the moon cycles around, and the sun shifts with the season. They have all been watching as lives and civilizations rise and fall.
We all carry wounds that have been passed down, are partially processed, and that will continually unravel within and throughout us. With this, we also carry gifts and medicine that are not just ours. We carry gifts that have transformed through timelines and have carried through us. And we will pass on both. To our children, and loved ones, and to the compost of the earth when we pass. Our bloodline may be a primary source of what we walk with, but so may our religion, spirituality, culture, ethnicity, or geographic location. Our ancestral lines are historically and spiritually vast, woven with all.
This is our evolution as humans.
This is our evolution as spiritual beings in physical bodies with ego and consciousness. We are all playing a part. We are all a note in the grand orchestra. This is the unwinding of life. We take what we’ve been given, not because it’s just or fair but because it's what is. And we step into the fire, or we don’t. We look it in the eyes, or we don’t. We transmute it or we don’t. We forgive ourselves and the world, or we don’t. We play out the repetitive loops we've watched through generations, or we don’t. We rise up and thrive, or we don’t
Cause and effect are undeniable, and the divine is not linear. Healing is not linear. We all dance in and out of relationships, interactions, paths crossed, moments, years, and lifetimes communing, and with this energy, stories, wounds, and medicine ripple. They dance, weave, and unravel collectively. We are all bound, some more deeply than others, but we are all bound.
Our ancestors are our elders. Those known, and unknown. The long line of women, the long line of men, children, non-binary, two-spirited beings — they are the long line that our existence is riding after. The trees and mountains are our elders. The ocean and the rivers, the deserts, and the jungles are all our elders. They have watched cycle after cycle of birth and death.
Honoring the vastness of humanity and life that has walked before us, is how we keep walking forward with repeating the same horrors of the past.
We live in a day in age where we’ve been coerced to shut our eyes. To not look back, or too far forward. To not look at the farther-reaching ripples of our actions. To not see our impact. My invitation today is to not look in disparity, but to drop into that holy pause, and feel the vastness with tenderness.
Humanity has come to a stark place that I have no doubt is not the first. But we’ve been severed from the Mother. We have been severed from our Great Mother. The last people on earth that are living in direct relationship with her are dwindling, and losing the capacity to do so. I don’t say this to invoke grief, helplessness, or despair though it will — I say this to invoke connection. To invoke a tender awareness of the beauty in humanity and the earth. We are not that different from one another, and there is spirit all around us asking for a simple presence.
The more present we are, the more clarity we will have one step at a time. We may not be able to undo certain damages done, but our ripple reaches farther than we may think.
Our ancestors are the roots of the foundation upon which we walk. And maybe they should be the God we worship.
With Marigold love,
Abby
