My Journey with the Ancestors- The Invitation

Who Are our Ancestors?

The first time I heard the word ‘ancestor’ I was baffled. If I had a dictionary on hand, I would have immediately looked up the definition of the word. Finding myself dictionary-less, I relied on the expressions and body language of the people around me for a sign as how to give off the perception that I knew what ‘ancestors’ were. It was a spiritual “fake it til you make it” moment. When I finally could sneak a google search, the reality hit me: oh, they meant dead people. Not just any dead people though, my dead people.

I felt time slow to a grinding halt as all my synapses began to contort around the concept of the thousands and thousands of people who had made my life possible. 

In that same moment, the reality of how utterly disconnected I was from a massive part of who I am came flooding in. All my life I just thought of me, my immediate family, and my Grandparents. The tiny little autonomous bubble of pervasive individuality I had been living in had just been popped. I was still warming to the concept of ancestors when I found myself at a three day ceremony dedicated to none other than, you guessed it, the ancestors. 

Let’s pause here for a moment and consider how things like this happen. How did I end up in a place where I would spend 3 days honoring my ancestors at the same time the reality of them was settling in? How do things like that happen for any of us?

There are so many explanations for synchronicity, but one I find particularly fascinating is something called sympathetic resonance.

Wikipedia defines it as “a harmonic phenomenon wherein a formerly passive string or vibratory body responds to external vibrations to which it has a harmonic likeness.” In this instance I like to consider myself as the “formerly passive vibratory body” (it's not a super flattering description, but I am okay with that). The key word here is formerly, because I responded to the external vibration of my people, my ancestors. Their likeness to me (because I am them and they are me) is what brought us together in a very conscious way. And my awareness of them was about to get even more real. 

Releasing Ancestral Grief

When the ancestral ceremony commenced, I approached the unknown with curiosity and openness. As night fell and our group sat together in a circle, a question was posed to us; were any of us willing to release inter-generational ancestral grief through a ceremonial head shaving? I peered at the circle to see the reflection of my facial expression pasted on those around me; wide eyes with mouths dropped open. What happened next, I will never forget. A feeling deep inside my body began to take root. It was as if electrical impulses were making my internal organs quiver.  As the feeling grew in intensity, I tried my hardest to deny I was having a response, but it was indisputable. Overwhelm engulfed me as I felt my head begin to shake back and forth with the thought; “Oh no….ohhh no.” Then the realization came over me that if I denied THIS, this intuition, this invitation, that I would be denying something primal and necessary. Thoughts flooded my mind as I imagined my family freaking out, my clientele thinking I was insane, and the public sneaking curious looks at me.

Slightly dissociated from my body, I heard my voice utter “YES.”

When we broke for a break, I found it hard to speak. I could not latch onto clear reasoning or understanding. In passing, a friend mentioned her fear of being perceived as a Neo Nazi if she had a shaved head. I felt the blood leave my face and tears well up. My Grandparents has been detained in Nazi detention camps for four years during WW2. That is when the knowing came; my hair was a minuscule offering that I could make to honor the suffering my Grandparents and so many others had endured.

The long, blonde hair that my Grandmother would brush, braid, and twirl into ovals at the nap of my neck was a gift for these ancestors.

In the woods that evening, with song and prayer, a group of men and women took my hair. They gently cut every strand down to my scalp while a razor erased the rest. I sobbed as I felt the intention and care behind their craft, all the while knowing the atrocities that were enacted in the camps. The grief of generations streamed down my face and I felt oddly at ease. The quivering in my abdomen subsided as I sat on a tree stump, my bald head caressed like that of a newborn baby. My hair was my offering to them and the beginning of a lifelong journey with my people.

Our ancestors know how to get our attention in ways intrinsic to who we are.

Connecting with our ancestors does not have to be an intense experience like the one I had, but it was what I needed at that time. They know us and they know how to grab our attention. There are many ways that we can revive our relationships with them, and yet I have discovered over the years that there are techniques that will ensure ritual safety, healthy connection, and address intergenerational trauma in a gentle way. Since that time in the woods I have repaired my relationships with all of my lineages; despite the fear of what I might discover or my dislike for some of my deceased relatives, my connection to the thousands of vibrant beings within the energetic field of my DNA has been profound. With ancestral healing our sense of who we are deepens, incessant patterns that can hinder our evolution are addressed, cultural amends to heal systemic inequities can be made, and we find ourselves assuming our rightful place among a history of powerful people.

“If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see you parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive at this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people. “

~ Thich Nhat Hahn

Jennifer Hudziec is a Certified Ancestral Repair Practitioner with the Ancestral Medicine Organization. She is a Ritualist, End of Life Doula, and Fire Walk Instructor. The ceremony she references is an Ancestralization ceremony brought to the West by Elder Malidoma Somé.

Jen offers private sessions & group work and may be reached at jenhudziec.com

Photo Credit: Om Prakash Sethia via Unsplash