Substack of the Dead: Here's How You Know Your Ancestors Dropped by

They do leave a message, you just need to know how to recognize it!

Hello, Curious Spirits!

Title=Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum Rackham, Arthur Year 1922 Access: October 22, 2024 Publisher: Old Book Illustrations

I'm having some surprises but good moves in my home, all the better for preparing for Samhain, Kekri, and Dziady. I suspect it has something to do with the weather in space (my affectionate name for astrology). Mercury is in Saturn, and the s—- is getting done. When we have our ancestral version of Fleet Week, we'll have a much more organized and hospitable home. That base will come in handy. The next Mercury Retrograde rolls around three days before US Thanksgiving. Any survival strategy helps.

One of those survival strategies is getting advice and support from my ancestors! I recommend that my clients do the same. That leads to the natural question: "OK, but…how do I know it's them?" I also get, "I'm not psychic at all, or I'm an absolute baby at this stuff. So what if I have no idea who or what is there?"

These are valid questions - and a big part of why I am developing my Magickal Modalities class. People need to know how they receive psychic information before they can receive it. You know you'll see it here when it's up!

While I have always had some spiritual awareness, it still took me a long time to fine-tune it. Reaching out to my ancestors was part of what helped me connect.

Two powerful, without-a-doubt contacts made all the difference: my dad and my grandma. We'll set aside Grandma's for now—it's an intense story for another time.

My father's story was a little more fun. He is the source of my Polish lineage. His parents immigrated to the United States in the 1930s. They left behind poverty and an epic political downslide. My father grew up in one bubble—the Polish-speaking world of Northwest Indiana—and struggled outside it. Growing up, he didn't have a reason to learn English, even though it immediately set him behind as a young man.

My father loved theater, excelled as an English teacher, and held a slightly criminal Chicagoan outlook on life. He was the parent I had real talks with. Our shared interests included reading classical literature, watching Danny Kaye movies, and solving the world's problems with comedy and wit. We developed our banter. When he would teach me to do something and pretend not to know how the next day, I would call him a con artist, he laughed even as my mother spluttered in the background because I said "bullshit!" in public.

Dad died in 2009. With him gone, I had no healthy reason to remain connected to the rest of my relatives. In his way, he encouraged the separation while also asking me not to separate. I grieved hard.

I saw signs of Dad reaching out. I'd find my TIVO "suggested" folder filled with Citizen Kane, Meet Me in Saint Louis, biopics, and documentaries about Lou Gehrig or the Chicago Bears—all Dad things.

The anniversary of his death passed, one, then two, then three. I drifted, having no contact with my mother to protect my mental health.

In 2015 and 2016, I started writing Urban Magick. I went through the spiritual reckoning that led to Hex Twisting. I started looking for new support because it didn't feel like deities were hearing my calls for help. I regret sharing my concerns, but I bounced them off my boyfriend.

"Where do your gifts come from?" my ex asked me one day. I shrugged. "Never thought about it." Trauma, probably.

"You ancestors!" he said. He nudged me to call on an ancestor to come to me and connect me. He had me look up the Wikipedia page for Poland and Polish gods. He told me to pray to a god that jumped out of me for help connecting to those deities. (I do not recommend this practice.)

I said a prayer, invited, and set boundaries. My creepy ex fell asleep almost involuntarily. I felt this surrounding presence. "It's me!" a voice (feeling?" kept emoting) kept saying. Don't you recognize me?" I hadn't asked for anything specific, so I had no conclusions to jump to.

The presence hung around, sometimes trying to make contact. I could barely hear it over the constant inner noise generated by anxiety.

A few weeks later, I was cleansing a public ritual space. The presence had stayed with me for days and weeks, turning into a month. It had that persistent "It's me!" As I cleaned, the voice asked for some extra food, something I would have to leave the state of California to get. Nice things would happen, it wheedled. Without thinking, I said," Oh, knock it off, you old con artist!"

Then, a laugh rang out. A friend cleansing with me looked around for the source. I recognized it. I felt it. Most people found my dad in a crowd by looking for his perfect circle blind spot. I could always find my father by the short, amused bark he gave out.

We talked, But I needed to know how to keep it happening and what to do next.

During that time, I was drawn to a now-defunct Facebook group called "The Swamp." Run by the owners of a Louisiana conjure shop, it has everything I was missing in magickal practice. I had the basics and a good understanding of the structure of spells and their poetic logic. As I overcame my shyness and asked questions, I received answers from all walks possible.

Good advice came to me from good people, and better advice arrived from morally questionable people. I lost prejudices, found new answers, challenged my assumptions, and challenged the assumptions of others. One thing they all talked about was that you need your ancestors. All we do travels through our ancestors because none of us are truly alone.

I tried several different approaches to offerings. The incense went over OK—I felt a little vibration from it. The water went over even better. I attended lectures from people who taught ancestor-centered practices and took notes. Many things were ancestral and specific—and a lot were not. My ancestors didn't have to stay stuck.

I even paid for consultations because of the impact of my scarred relationship with my mother.

Seeking expert advice led me to the Yuma practitioner, who told me how to frame my ancestor's work well. My ancestors began showing up, and I developed a comparison between ancestors, ghosts, and living spirits.

Between my encounters and exchanges with the folks of the Swamp, I found the following:

• Ancestors don't feel like ghosts. They aren't cold the way ghosts run cold. I once encountered my aunt's ghost, but I also encountered her in ancestor form. The ancestor form felt warmer, connected to something alive and eternal, while the ghost did not. Ancestors also have a texture, like they all wear a specific type of fiery cloth.

• Offerings make it easy to spot if your dead relatives have been by. If the ancestors want what you're offering, you'll see signs of the energy drained. The food desiccates fast, which is remarkable in the humid and mold-filled areas I end up in. Last week, they asked for half a cucumber. The cucumber left out normally might mold; by the next day, it had faded and was dry.

• Water and coffee offerings evaporate fast. I'm a regular coffee drinker but also absent-minded about it. I also have a designated mug for my ancestors (they share, although I am unclear on the logistics). After an hour, I will see almost no difference in the liquid level of my oft-forgotten coffee mug. I'll glance at my ancestor altar and see a half-inch thick line where that coffee touched an hour prior.

• Water can also reveal more than you might expect. People who work with the dead often—especially if they devote themselves to Santa Muerte—report seeing bubbles in the water. They take it as a sign that she has made herself present, or sometimes the bubbles represent the ancestors surrounding and blessing the one who gave the offering. Wherever ancestors hang out, it's dry.

• Ancestors love to make themselves known when you're cooking. It makes sense; food is more than sustenance. It is survival. It is lineage. It is the transmission of the good family secrets. Many say they'll hear "add this spice, or stir this long!" as they cook after starting ancestor work. I get requests to try what I'm cooking. My diet differs from theirs - I eat more meat and less potatoes. They get curious and seem to feed off novelty the way I do. I keep a little offering bowl on my stove to honor those requests.

• When I tell their stories, I can feel them, another body in the room, the energy of attention.

• Smells are a way spirits love to communicate. Signature perfumes, tobacco, favorite flowers. My grandmother will float the smell and taste of her famed oatmeal cookies, and I'll smell the hot raisins.

I had a spirit worker I consulted comment about how many people new to spiritual work call spirits and work magick and then notice something extrasensory. Sometimes, the work starts before the visions, sounds, and smells. As you nurture a relationship with your ancestors, you'll get a stronger sense of knowing an Ancestor is Present. As you continue, you sometimes learn to identify specific ancestors.

Note: If you're feeling lost because you're adopted or because you're a stepchild, you are not left out. Not knowing your ancestors does not stop you from connecting with them. Go to asking for those who are healed and whole, and take your next steps!

For my paid subscribers, beyond the wall, I have:

• A video of my simple morning or evening ancestral ritual.

• A ritual outline for you to work with as you develop your own practice

• A variation for those who don't know their ancestors.

  A paid subscription moves me towards writing more of this stuff full-time!

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