When we hear the words “ancestor work” a lot of questions pop up. I’ve been asked about sharing and so I’m going to tell you about the work I’ve been doing to connect with my Dad.
My Dad passed a year ago in November, and was my best friend. He adopted me. He is not my blood. My blood walked out before I took my first breath and didn’t return until I was 35. But he is my Dad and words cannot express the gratitude.
There will never be words that exist in the English language to convey this emotion I feel right now, they all fall short. This man not only shaped my future, but taught me what real love was all about. He left me too soon, yet in perfect rhythm. Nine weeks from diagnosis to death in my home. Right next to me. One of the last things he said was “I can’t go. You need me.”
We don’t need anything. It already exists. And so does my Dad and his spirit that is here with me right now as I write this. He is my ancestor and will be with me always. High Priest Christopher Penczak has a list of the different lines of ancestry.
Ancestors of Flesh and Blood: Genetic Kin; those who are connected to us via immediate pedigree or bloodline.
Ancestors of Milk and Honey: Adopted Kin; those who are connected to us because they have nourished, nurtured, adopted, and treated us like family.
Ancestors of Skin and Bone: Land Kin; those who are connected to us because of proximity (they lived and died in our locality)
Ancestors of Breath and Bread: Story Kin; those who are connected to us via a feeling of kinship due to profession or vocation, art, or other interests.
Ancestors of Spirit and Soul: Path Kin; those who are connected to us through walking the same or similar spiritual paths.
~ The Mighty Dead
The past year and three months have been difficult. I felt I should do the work and connect with him and didn’t know where to start. I have worked with my momma and mammaw, but not my Dad.
It’s not as easy. It’s painful and devastating and it sucks and I hate the world and didn’t want to do it. In my heart, I wanted to connect again so badly, but I had to work through my grief and was stuck. Then something fucking magical happened. I slipped into the work. Today I rolled a big fat blunt and queued up a “Dad” playlist on Spotify. I got in flow, adjusted my tone and ended up spending an hour singing to his ashes, just like when he was alive. We used to get buzzed and we had “our” music. Our songs. Our time together.
I relived the feeling of sitting on the couch with my Dad drinking and listening to all the music he raised me on. Music that is more than magical, it’s a conduit.
I’ve never felt freer and more in flow with my Dad. Never. I sit here now at the end of this experience and tell you from my spirit: FORCE VS FLOW is us trying to define what the work looks like vs reliving the feeling of being with them.
I honored my Daddy with a fat joint and some Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Ozzy. He is with me. He loves me and is watching over me. He has never left.
This is the work. This is the honor. The Gray Goose comes after supper tonight.
We make it so hard on ourselves. We forget that it’s a feeling and not just an action.
Flow, my loves.
All of this looks different for each of us.
One for me…..one for my homie.