Ancestor relating.

I’ve taken to drawing my dreams as I wake. I use pastels as my medium and allow images to be expressed on the paper in front of me. I lean into my senses, my fingers reach for the colours. The images build upon themselves. I allow the images to speak.

A cool thing happened yesterday. I was reading to my niece at night, as I opened the storybook, I noticed a similar peculiar image that I recognized from the drawing I made in the morning. It made me excited. I love when the dots connect and the communication flows from the dreamscape into the waking world!

I am sharing below a writing piece that feels like this image I drew after waking. I am working on my secondary lineage on my mother’s line and these words are resonant of that journey.

The veil lifts so I can see the path ahead of me beaded with flowers. The smell beckons my heart forward, bringing me to sweetness, innocence and possibility. The heavy garb of burdensome stories falls of my back like it never belonged. It is replaced by iridescent wings of silk that are soft. My smile is widened, my heart ripples open so expansive that I no longer shield the love that pours through me. I learn to yeild my sword of wisdom. It stays in its sheath, till it is needed in my palms and I trust this. These are the glimpses when the veil lifts, this is the moment I am taken to.