How would you support the healing of a child's trauma? You would spend abundant time together doing a lot of listening, talking, reassuring, caring touch, crying, playing, creative expressing, laughing, remembering, reflecting, praying, ceremony, and whatever else are the child's or your healing ways. Your ancestors, alive in you, require the same time and nurturing. Soulless, oppressive, individualistic culture may have conditioned you to believe ancestors are not a real thing, just a superstition from "uncivilized" cultures. This then is the first wound for you to heal. For if you do not believe your ancestors are alive in you, you surely cannot heal ancestral wounds. Healing together in community is powerful medicine. Gather and talk story with your kindred kind. Touch the wounds your ancestors were oppressed into not touching. Speak and name the wounds they were unable to give language to. If you hold these old wounds in your hands and reassure them of your Loving presence, attention, and care, like a distressed baby or child in your cradling arms, those wounds will begin to feel comforted. Those wounds will begin to calm, drift to sleep, regenerate into wholeness energy, and heal. Gather. Touch. Cradle. Sing. Drum. Dance. Talk story. See forward into your vision of what life can be. Your ancestors have so much to say about their journey and yours. They will squabble as usual. Listen to their squabbling. And when the sun of a new day rises above the horizon of your long shared pain, take your ancestors' hands in yours and walk together into that verdant valley of freedom. Your shared tears will create rivers of gratitude. Love's offering will be water. Follow the flow home. Let your eternal ones join you in your promised land. After all, they first dreamed it for you. @jaiyajohn
My newest book, Daughter Drink This Water, is online at booksellers. Audiobook at bio link. Keynotes. Freedom talks. Bio link.
Daughter Drink This Water. Calm. Sincerity of Sunlight. Your Caring Heart. Fresh Peace. Clear Moon Tribe. The Day Jumoke Found His Name. Legendary. Beautiful. Reflection Pond. Habanero Love. Father to Son. Lyric of Silence. Black Baby White Hands. 🌕