The End

For those that have gone before me.

Kavyn Brian Warren

31/01/2002

This gluebook was created using the prompt: last end final.

An Ancestor Be

Regardless of your ability
to embrace the presence and influence
of ancestors, it is easy to acknowledge a debt
to 'what has come before' -- personally
and as a culture.

One might muse then,
on what kind of ancestor you will be --
what footsteps left on the sands,
what handholds etched
on craggy cliffs --
that might help children
find their way.

consider ...

REVOLVING

For those who drift only partly awakened,
I can be there --
need only be there --
be there --
be.
This is the finest of attentions --
to … be the hidden handmaiden of dreams,
to … guide in silence,
to … conduct a symphony of hopes,
to … gather discarded prayers into a basket of fairywind.
Hush -- hush, for though they slumber
by choice and Current blend --
someday they will remember,
and search your cheek
for tears of joy.

Ancient View

In Mongolian Shamanism mythos,
the touch and relevance of ancestors
was embraced in several special ways.

It was believed that each person had seven souls;
some assigned (destined) to various dominions
as a return of spirit to source,
but others whose function was influenced
by the family that remained.

All souls spend a time in the 'Lower Kingdom'
from which they could sometimes be 'saved',
usually by the interaction of a Shaman.
This embraced conditions of coma
and near death experience. In both, the family
had to desire and petition for the return.

One soul hovered near the family home (camp)
in order to provide council and assuage grief.
Often people 'Heard' the voice of this spirit
as if they were still alive. Eventually this influence
diminished. However, the family by group will
or ritual could install this 'soul' in an object
near the home for eternity -- usually a favored
tree or rock, from which it's presence would be
known by future generations.

One soul went to the Upper Kingdom (Tengri),
To provide a communication link with the
demi-gods of the weather. People did not pray
to the Tengri itself, but to their ancestors there.

NOTE: none of this was considered 'religious' --
The other four souls returned to Source
Completely outside and distinct from the
Known and imagined worlds of the Three Kingdoms
(seven thousand years before the 'Rings'). While there
was no possible communication with these souls,
it was felt that the way a person lived their life
had an influence on how these souls behaved
in the shaping of the universe. These four 'aspects'
of being roughly can be equated with,
Mind, Soul, Heart and Spirit with which you
Might be more familiar.

Thus any ancestor might have influence on future
generations in a myriad of complex ways -- all revered.

Organised Disorganisation - Sepia Ancestors

The way to the Isle of Ancestors was laid out before

me, in a way that I could follow, but knew

not where it would lead. None of it made sense,

over the water to the isle, in another time,

another place. I was robed in red, safe

and protected, purposeful and expectant.

When I reached the guide she said nothing,

unusually quiet. I glanced in question, not

knowing why I was here -- none of the thoughts

I had found answers in the mist that smelled

of ancient incense and sounded like a sea of small

bells. I felt a discontent, a sense of needless hardship

inside, a heaviness that mildly aggravated.

"Long ago," came a voice, "This was how it was."

A guide pointed to a patch of ground, stubbornly held

by womenfolk in dark clothing, proud but worn by it.

At first I didn't understand. "They are so sombre,

clothed in dark up to their necks, yet handsome and

intelligent..." And they seemed to have something to

say, as the guide indicated toward them again.

"You want colours," they said. "Yes," I said, facing

them with respect and kindness.

"Well it's no good asking us. We come from long ago and

far away. We don't remember when the sea was alive

with the sound of small bells."

Confused, I sat on a mound of simple earth, bare of

life and song. I saw them, bound as they were in manner,

as surely as if they had been tied up by an absent

captor. Inside me there was a vague sense of aggravation.

"Why did you come here? You know we are set in our

ways, as surely as if we were made of stone."

"I thought to..." I said, part of me knowing it was unnecessary

to go on.

As I spoke with them, clear as a bell, some curled up and went

to sleep in their dark robes, a deep and peaceful slumber.

"Our time was lived. We were made for the dark. We were

made that way..." the elder said. In a corner of her

eyes there was a tear that sparkled like a diamond. A hint

of the bell sea? I thought.

"Be at peace," I said aloud, "I have nothing to admonish you with...you are the

foundation that was. I accept you. I accept your strengths as

part of the whole, and bid you rest now."

"Well and good," said the elder, proud and regal looking, her

hair tied back in an ancient design, dark and lovely. "Then

we, no I, shall give you something, something from us..."

I looked down to see an ancient sepia dragon sitting serenely

in my lap, important against my red robe.

"I feared you would not..." I said, looking from the ancient art

back to my elder, whose regal countenance had always

made my sentences fall away.

"Understand? We know the patterns of the earth, and we were

one of them. Each pattern is different, and we lived our pattern. Now

you may add the colour that we need, in your own pattern."

I smiled then, finally understanding the disorganisation of

organisation. The thread lingered, yet was forever separate,

forever joined, but different. It was meant to be different. This

was the truth of the elders, to whom I had sworn absolute loyalty.

My elder opened her robe a little, and beneath the dark was

a range of colour, that had always been there, yet was always

obscured. I was moved by the sight. "You knew it was there," I

said.

"Always," she said, "Yet not, if you understand me."

Expecting her to sleep, like the others, in their calm state,

like wind-formed rocks that seem to lean of a need for the earth,

and the grateful peace of support.

"You would want to rest now, too," I said, rolling the ancient art into

a scroll to take with me, and rising from the mound of earth.

"Not yet," she said, with a slight smile. "I am your guardian, as

strong as any you will find. My name is as you know it, and

will always be..."

The heaviness lifted from inside me, and I knew it was impossible,

and unnecessary, she would think, to thank her. She had always

done as was expected, and knew the hard roads. I told her I was glad she

was here, glad she was there to watch that I would remain,

forever the same, yet forever different. She said that

was the way of the ancestors.

copyright Monika Roleff 2006.

Soul Sisters on Isle of Ancestors

Heather and Sibyl acknowledge
that they are one
are companions
who
have walked this way
before

For All My Ancestors

Forever entwined
we will always
be as one

Chinese New Year Visit - Spirit Quilts

During your visit to the Isle of Ancestors, as a part of Chinese New Year 2006, take the time to make a spirit quilt like one of these by Patricia Montgomery. Don't feel compelled to make your spirit quilt from fabric.

You could simply take a large piece of paper and create a quilt collage using papers and glue or you might draw quilt squares and fill them in with a combination of sketches and collage. Alternatively you might produce something using photoshop or make a spirit quilt style altered book.

The possibilities are endless.