Ancestors and the fires of truth.


So last night I laid in a beautiful hot salt and lavender bath and lit some candles. I had intended on only lighting 2 as those were there, but felt the need to light 6 instead. Nothing odd in that really as I’m often pulled to do something different to my original thought and I make a point of following my intuition.

The reason for the bath had been to relax and reconnect to myself. I’ve been feeling very unconnected to myself recently and have been struggling immensely. So a facepack was put on and the phone turned off.

While laying there I found myself gazing at these 6 beautiful candles flickering gently in the warm air of the hot room. I found myself drawn to my breathing and knew instantly that I was going off somewhere.

I saw myself walking through a tunnel created by trees. Trees grown from the roots of my history. I am co hosting an ancestry evening next month and this is the meditation I will be using to help others to connect back in with those roots too. It seems I needed to experience it for myself before others.

I walked out of the tunnel to find a fire in front of me. A man was bent over gently stoking the fire and as he turned to welcome me, I recognised him as being family in some way. It’s the eyes. They say the eyes are the window of the soul and we so often have a deep remembering when we look into another eyes.

He welcomed me to sit at the fire and warm myself with a vegetable stew that had been cooking. He then explained the 6 candles to me.

The 6 candles I lit were my connection to him. He sits 6 generations back on my family on my father’s side. When I speak of generations I don’t feel this is literal. He spoke of the gifts of insight. (What we now call intuition, psychic or clairvoyant) in our family the gift of insight is handed down in a zigzag pathway, from male to female, male to female and so on. In doing so, it allows there to be a balance of masculine and feminine energy shared around the fires of our kin. He spoke of sitting around these fires as was a nightly tradition.

The fire was a place to join together, to sing songs of old, to share stories of ancestors and to share insights that the land had told. You see, insights came from the lands. The way the wonderful blew the grasses and trees. The way that mud formed under foot, the way the fires of family danced and blew and spoke with crackles and snaps. There was a deep connection to the land under foot. A connection that has been lost over time. Fires were also the space to welcome kin from other peoples too. They would share food and drink and share stories of their own people’s adding further depth to the history unfolding in word of mouth.

Stories were not written, they were spoken and handed down via the voice and these stories, although embellished, had truth at the heart of each.

At some point there came an air of fear across the lands. Some when back in the 1600s-1700s. These fire gatherings lessened and the people became cautious of who to speak their insights and family stories to. Those with the land insights became protective of sharing their words of the land and laughter and singing and story telling became a thing only to have within immediate family. Even within that ‘family’ there was paranoia surrounding whether to speak words of truth for fear of being persecuted by one who did not any longer share your ideals and beliefs.

This is the story of the fear of speech in our bloodline. The air of aloof. The air of remaining tight lipped against your own kin in fear. And this story comes at a time when we must begin to reconnect to our ancestral stories and rejoin together. The air of fear that changed all things at that time was war. A war that connects England and Scotland. Insight became witchcraft, Something to fear. Religion became of the heavens instead of the earth beneath the feet. Kin and family became a chess game of connections to strength property and land over others. You could no longer know who sat at your fire and shared your food. (Family always has been about power, but this changed drastically to become political)

In a time when we fear even our neighbour, we must reconnect to our ancestral bloodlines. For me, that came in the form of researching and discovering one of my ancestors fought on behalf of the very king that was causing all this fear. But from my research I can see that he was trying to fight for what was best in the grand scheme of things. He was an idealist who did not believe either side should have control. So fought from inside to try to gain a change within. He failed in his aim and was executed but none the less, he took a side and fought.

And this is what I take with me. I have the gift of insight and the gift of speech. And I can choose a side. I can choose to fear or to love and forgive.

I choose to forgive and love. I choose to welcome my neighbour to the fire and extend forgiveness to all that came before. Forgiveness for our part, forgiveness for theirs. Forgiveness and love to those who chose not to speak.

I choose to be a voice of my ancestors who felt unable to use their gifts of insight. I have that insight and will use it to raise energy, heal the lands beneath our feet and reconnect to all. I welcome you to join me at the fire and hold my hand. I invite you to be known by your blood and kin. I invite you to heal the lands that we have walked upon and shed blood and fear upon. I invite you to help me heal these broken lines of communication and to listen to the stories of our own history and future.

Join me at the fire to heal and cleanse and raise an army of united kins of these lands.

Nici Gorman


One thought on “Ancestors and the fires of truth.

  1. Love this so much! Being able to come at things from a place of knowledge through both intuition and knowledge handed down, coupled with experience. Speaks on so many lessons and so vital for each of us personally to explore. Plus will have a massive impact on the planet and healing rifts within it. So looking forward to our Ancestral Fire Meditation. xxx

    Liked by 1 person

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