When I first came to Druidry, I ran into a stumbling block
that had me questioning my decision for a while. That was the honoring of the Ancestors. Like most people in our culture, I had only
thought of “ancestors” as being the people from whom I am biologically
descended. That, for me, was a serious problem. I come from a long line of abusive and
dysfunctional relatives, and there was no way whatsoever that I was going to
include those people in my religious practice.
I did not want them to be part of what I turned to for strength and comfort. These people, during their lives, had been
the sort to upset and tear down others – especially me and certain other of
their relatives – and I had no reason to think that death had changed them in
that regard.
At my
grove’s rituals, I took part in the group offerings to the Ancestors, but my
heart was never in it. My personal
devotionals and rituals did not even include Ancestor offerings or
acknowledgement of any sort. I didn’t
want to call my ancestors into my home and life. I had made conscious, deliberate decisions to
remove myself from their influence, and to remove their influence from me. The fact that I would always carry genetic
material passed down from them was pretty much the extent of what I was willing
to have of them in my life.
Then
there was a moment that changed my view of the matter. I’m a writer, and I have a favorite author
whose work has always been very important to me. I was re-reading one of her books and
thinking of her – we had met and struck up a wonderful friendship which lasted
until her death – and I had the thought “This woman has had more impact on my
life than my own family.” That’s when it
struck me. This was one of my
Ancestors! Not related to me in the
biological or genetic sense, but someone instrumental in making me the person I
am. She had had an influence in my
chosen work of writing. She had been
kind to me. We cared about one another.
This
was one of my Ancestors!
That
one moment of realization changed everything.
Suddenly I could see the title of Ancestor applying to so many more
people than just those to whom I was related.
It applied to anyone who had had any influence on who and what I had
become. Mentors and teachers, historical
figures, even friends who had passed on…these were all among my Ancestors if
they had shaped me into the person I am now.
A
moment of revelation. And one that
changed my entire view on the practice of Ancestor reverence. Shortly after this revelation – mere minutes
after, actually – I went to my altar to do personal ritual. For the first time, I eagerly made offerings
to the Ancestors. And, also for the
first time, I didn’t feel cold and distanced from the action. I felt the approval of the few I had called
upon and to whom I had given offerings.
I had made offerings to my Ancestors, and for the first time, they had
responded positively. It was because
this was the first time I had made offerings to the Ancestors who were truly
important to me.
Don’t
think this one moment completely removed my problems with honoring the
Ancestors. It didn’t. I still have some issues with it, because I
still harbor some very hurt and unpleasant feelings toward my direct personal
ancestors. But this gave me a starting
point. My relationship with the
Ancestors has improved since that day and continues to do so. At least I can now say that honoring the
Ancestors is a part of my regular personal practice.
