(Art by Jessie White, Seeds of Spells)
I've recently returned from an ancestry workshop, which was deeply moving. Combined with other ancestry work, and discussions about ancestry that have gone on in my life lately, this is opening up a channel for a deeper history of myself, a deeper sense of self.
Perhaps you’re on your own journey into ancestry.
I am of the many beings who have walked before me. They are part of me, with myself as an individual self being the tip of the finger of a body, a great body of ancestors.
For me, raised in an individualistic culture, this is quite a paradigm shift.
For most people, for most of our time here as humans, it’s more usual.
By the way, the lady putting on this ancestry workshop is named Pulxaneeks. She's a First Nations lady from the Xanuksiala First Nation, here in the Salish Sea.
You can find out about her work here.
I recommend her workshops, in-person and online.
Now, I'm going to dive into ancestry as a way of understanding a character.
This character might be yourself, or someone you know. It could be someone in a story you're writing. It could be a fictionalized version of yourself, or someone you know.
When I think of Ancestry, I think of many rivers flowing into one, many creeks coming together into one.
And what is that one river into whom they flow? That is the one who is living now, who is acting on the stage of this world. And these many streams collecting in the watershed, of course, are the different lines of genealogy that have coalesced over decades, centuries, and millennia, into that one who is walking the earth today.
Into us.
And each one of us is such a river, flowing into the future.
In this workshop, Pulxaneeks’ partner Scott led us in a practice that I'd like to share with you.
Here’s the practice.
Touch your fingers to your neck so you can feel your pulse.
Feel that drumming, feel that rhythm.
You might even tap that rhythm on another part of your body, on your chest or leg or somewhere else, feeling that rhythm, and knowing that this pulse has been pulsing since you were born, all the way back to the start of your life.
Pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, since you were born, and yes, before you were born. That pulse was shared with you from your mother's pulse; it was activated by your father's pulse.
That pulsing went on in the body of your mother, of your father, throughout their whole lives, and back to when they were in the wombs of their mothers…
and their mothers…
and fathers….
pulsing back,
back, back,
back.
This pulse goes back thousands and thousands and thousands of generations, into the time before there were humans, such as we know ourselves now.
Now, when you're considering the ancestry of a character—that is to say, the stories that flow into the story of that character's life—you may want to pick one or two streams, because it branches out pretty quick.
Each of us has two parents, and together they have four parents. Altogether they have 8, then 16, 32, and it gets complex pretty quick.
Many of us have ancestry from different parts of the world, so depending on which part of that branch we follow, we end up in very different parts of the world.
Just choose one stream for now, and you can always go with a different choice next time. And as you’re thinking of this strand going back in time, I invite you to consider the land in which they roamed, in which they worked and loved and sang.
Was there deep winter? If so, did it draw people inward, perhaps to make intricate art that took much time to create, and to tell intricate stories? Was there a harvest time, a drying time, a preserving time? Or was the land of these ancestors a warmer land, that made for easier travel, and different harvests coming at different times throughout the year?
All this you might feel from this drumming pulse and feel this in your own blood and bones as you imagine your own ancestors, or the ancestors of your character.
Did the ancestors of your ancestors watch the moon and stars, for navigation and to mark the passing of the seasons? Was there deep forest, perhaps not so different from forests you’ve walked in.
Imagine them stepping out of their shelter, feeling the air on their skin. Into a light breeze, a heavy wind? What scents were on that breeze? And how did they move through their day? What did they eat and drink, and how did they prepare this? Perhaps there were communal cooking times, and these were times to share stories: of spirits and ancestors, of animals and other communities.
As you sit with these ancestors, I invite you to ask them if there's a story they would like you to know. A story they've been waiting for you to listen to, that will give you strength, that will give you a clear view, a story that will give you courage to make a move, make a change, a story that will give you solace and rest. Whatever is needed for you in this very moment.
Then sit quietly and listen for a spell. See if there's a story that comes. A story that's waiting for you to hear. And as you hear the story, you might ask them for guidance for a certain situation in your life, or the life of your character, or someone she you know.
And as you sit and wait, you might feel the connection of that heartbeat that goes back, back, back. Thousands and thousands of generations into the past.
And as we're sitting here and as you're thinking of the ancestors, you might consider that their lives, their stories, their challenges, their joys, their sorrows, all these things are woven into your body, your being, your spirit.
What are the qualities that you've inherited from them? And what are the stories that you might want to let go of?
And if you'd like, you can thank your ancestors for the gifts that they've given you, for the strength, for the resilience, for the wisdom, for the love. Whatever it is, you might want to thank them.
And as we bring this practice to a close, I want to express my gratitude to you for joining me on this journey of exploring ancestry, of connecting with our roots, and of weaving stories that connect us to the past, the present, and the future.
Pulse, pulse, pulse…
If you found value in this practice, I invite you to share it with others who might benefit from it. And if you'd like to explore more storytelling practices, you can join me in the weekly story playshops, where we dive deeper into the art of storytelling and creativity, included for premium subscribers, at just $5/month.
Thank you again for being here, and until next time, happy story weaving.
Rivers of Ancestors