Dear Witches,
The question below appeared as a comment in the essay I wrote about what it means to “believe” in magic or putting ancestral offerings on your altar, etc. One of our fellow witches, Anastasia Selby who writes the excellent Substack, Navel Gazing, had the following question regarding her ancestral anxiety…
Hi Amanda,
Happy New Year 🩵! This may be in the baby witches PDF [for Subscribers] but I wanted to ask: as a white person who is descended from people who colonized the United States, I have such a conflicted relationship with my ancestral line. I am learning more about my ancestors, but in a way it feels like my life's work is to draw out the poison from my lineage, in many many ways. Do you have thoughts about this? It's something I've been struggling with but I only realized recently how much it affects my practices as a witch. I'll also read the guide so if it's addressed there please don't feel like you need to address it here.
Love,
Anastasia
Dear Anastasia!
Thanks so much for this question. I think a lot of folks will be able to relate, I certainly do.
We can think of our ancestors as everything that makes us who we are.
Our ancestors are the ones who have shared their DNA, stories and histories with us, but they're also the plants we've eaten, the water we've drunk, the lands on which we've slept.
As such, our ancestors go all the way back to the beginning of life on earth, or even to the beginning of the universe.
Our ancestors are stars, space dust, hydrogen and helium. So when we're talking about our ancestors we're talking about more than just people.
That said, we are also certainly talking about people, and many of those people did horrific things including colonization, enslaving people, abuse, murder, war, eugenics, all of the worst things we can think of.
What happens when we think of our ancestors, not as Caspar-like ghosts, but as literally, materially, all of the things that have brought us into being, who are still with us and inside us both in material form, and in imaginal form?
We have ancestors who've worked towards liberation for all beings, and ancestors who've done everything in their power to oppress others -- and we too have the capacity to do both of those things.
Denying our ancestors or ignoring them doesn't change the fact that they are still with us in very real ways.
In fact, everything that we experience in our world was created by our ancestors, and soon enough we will be the ancestors of future generations of humans (and other beings) who will be living off of our legacies and choices.
I have a very difficult relationship with many of my most recent ancestors. There's a lot of trauma and abuse in my family in recent generations.
Even though I've had difficulty working with her, my grandmother who just passed away last year is on my altar. I find that I am a mixture of angry with her, grateful to her, and sorry that she didn't have a better life.
Nevertheless, her life had a PROFOUND effect on my own, and that effect is still reverberating. I feel like I want to give my grandmother a piece of chocolate on top of a book like Women, Race, and Class by Angela Davis. A spoonful of sugar with some medicine to go with it.
We don’t need to idealize our ancestors.
Witching our lineage is a messy process, full of conflicting feelings and uncertainty and we are tasked with staying with the trouble of it. Healing is a messy process.
I love what you were saying about how your life's work is to draw the poison out of your lineage. It's such a brilliant and accurate image. Why not use it? Why not make it the focus of your ancestral magic? A mustard poultice on a candle (or even your own heart!), lit with the intention to pull the avarice from your family lineage? A donation made to a First Nations mutual aid group made in the name of your great great grandfather?
Neither magic, nor witchcraft, nor ancestral work is a metaphor.
If you decide to use your witchcraft to begin the process, what does your inner wisdom tell you should be your first step to draw out the poison?
Looking forward to hearing what your imagination offers you to begin the healing process.
Yours ever,
Amanda