Ancestral Alchemy: When The Past Calls You Home

by Ashe Loper

Death is a universal hum, forever singing inside the bones of what is. It exists not only as a necessary transition for our physical bodies, but as a guide for our emotional and spiritual bodies. We are living through and bearing witness to many types of Death in our current timeline; a surging, tsunamic amount of grief and loss is pouring through our collective communities right now, and these feelings can be absolutely paralyzing to our nervous systems as our bodies struggle to process the violence and trauma of what we are continually enduring. These crumbling foundations have opened powerful doors for opportunities to form more authentic relationships with our shadow selves, and with Death in all its shapeshifting forms on a deeper, more intimate level.

The deepening curiosity to explore my own shadows during this time led me to enroll in the Deathwives’ online Deathschool program. During these weekly sessions, Death became a neighbor, a teacher, and most importantly, a nurturer. One of our early assignments asked us to connect on a deeper level with our ancestors, with guidance on how to prepare an altar of offerings. Before enrolling in Deathschool, I had no prior knowledge of my ancestral stories. I was someone who avoided researching my ancestors for years due to generational trauma within my immediate family. The initial steps I took to get to know them were unsteady, uncertain, but heart-centered and determined.

Via our classroom discussions, written guidance, and a deeply engrossing journey of self-study and research, I simultaneously opened a door and closed the gap of a long-in-the-tooth ancestral grief that had finally been given a chance to name itself. And in naming itself, it was also given the chance to name its joy. My ancestors’ joy is so loud and gentle and receptive.

The generational sorrow remains, of course: a cell memory that scrimshawed itself into the marrow of Volga German people whose language and villages and identities were displaced and replaced and folded into near-oblivion. But here I am, learning their names. Their stories. Their songs. And I am anointing myself with their language and near-forgotten customs.

In the middle of all this Deathschool magic, current family members I didn’t even know existed reached out to me. Specifically, a sister. My biological sister, who was adopted in her infancy. We were both secrets kept from one another for over 30 years. But now we know each other’s names and history, and we are sharing more of ourselves every day. We are acknowledging ourgenerational roles as the Cycle Breakers, the Trauma Healers in this complicated and complex familial line, and by doing so, we are moving forward with a deeper understanding of ourselves and each other. I firmly believe our ancestors had our backs during both of our journeys, and being both a witness and contributor to that development makes me feel incredibly seen and held by those who came before me.

I am deeply excited to continue this journey, to walk through the hallways of grief and growth together, and to help others develop a closer, more nuanced relationship with Death and their own ancestral magic during my Deathwork travels. Your dead are always listening. Invite them to tell their stories so they can help you discover your own.

May we all seek to understand the Above by leaning in and listening to the Below.

In Love & Lineage,

Ashe

Ashe Loper is a writer, certified Funeral Celebrant, and queer Death Doula who provides sacred,

sovereign end-of-life care and consultations in rural Oklahoma. You can learn more about her Deathwork

services at her website http://reddirtdeathwork.com.