Stone circle, Loughcrew, Ireland
Deep within our own codes – soul shapes and DNA – lie the memories of the Old Ones; the Ancestors who got us here, who survived the hard times, who inform our own behaviours and predispositions. At our best we recall them, give thanks, even revere the memory of these beings, who can be human but are also other kinds of inner guide, including the wisdom of cellular memories, which are informed by interactions between waters and salts and earth matter, by the evolution of animate life, by the historical play of light and darkness, by the creative spirits that lay down the paths across the land upon which we walk and breathe.
Petroglyphic carvings, Loughcrew.
We have our parents, theirs, and so on back to the ancients; European ancestry, Chinese, African, Native. These people got you here, so it seems only fair to respect their fighting spirit for life – it wasn’t always easy. But deeper behind this, who or what gave rise to them? Primates that came down out of the trees in the Rift Valley, evolved the opposable thumb, began to use symbols to communicate strategies to overcome their relative physical weakness in the face of the other giant predators; or who awakened as if overnight having been gene-spliced by another, more evolved race; who grew out of the swirling mud of the earth or fell from the sky, or both; and anyway, what about all the other animals and beings along the way? Didn’t the amoeba that began to divide and become more complicated give rise to more life from the oceanic abodes of earth’s earliest history? Ancestors arise from the cosmic soup, the swirling chaos out of which life emerged, in the newts and frogs and toads and salamanders closest to life between land and liquid; in the other mammals that teach us how to watch and listen carefully … the timid deer and painstaking owl, the insouciant yet speedy kangaroo or emu, the burrowing wombat or the roaring lion or the bull or cow or horse whose powers join ours in the flux of life.
Section of Sargon’s Gates, ancient Mesopotamia
All life gives life to all other life, in a co-creative dance of mutual support and, if we are open to it, lifelong learning. Trees emanate oxygen and we breathe it in; trees die and parrots nest in them; rodents eat acorns and butterflies feast on the bugs that live on the leaves; and as for fresh water … we are nothing without it. Even light, radiating out from the stars, the original life force, is part of the life and breath of our ancestry, as is the darkness that is its relief. The Old Ones, our ancestors, are everywhere, still, and they are also buried deep in the past. If we listen to the power of the stars, the wisdom of the animals and plants, the silence of the stones and the burbling of the waters, we can still hear new ways of thinking about current ecosystems. These stories are myths, in the best possible way – powerful narratives and symbols that are capable of tying us back to the great magnificence, reminding us of where we come from, what we rely upon, how much we love what we seem to be losing, how sad we need to be at the destruction of the earth, how much we need to then let go of that sadness and remember again our fortune, forever in a cycle of giving thanks and fighting for what is right and what supports more life …
Our local star, flaring with the stuff of life, light and warmth (if you’re lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time).
I give thanks to my ancestors, the Normans and Celts who lived across western Europe, who eventually joined with the Anglo Saxons and other moderns to emigrate to Australia; to the ancestors of this land, who cared for it and lived on it and kept their ancient ways as strong as possible, while also remaining open to new ways when that became the most intelligent and sustainable option, who still work with creativity and tradition in dealing with the colonizing force of the modern west, just as native people all over the world deal with invasive forces from larger, more technologically developed societies; to the ancestors of the human race and to the other animals and plants who helped give rise to us, who give rise to themselves, who work in co-creation to support life even as they consume it, to earth creatures of all stripes and to the stars, the furnaces of life, the great, deep, celestial intelligence of light that fires our planet every day and drives cellular growth and wires motor neurons together so that we can comprehend and compute and cry and be awake and love and feel and think. I give thanks to the ancestors.
All of them.
This image is from an Australian Aboriginal “Dreaming”, or songline, or country line (story to come soon).