Ancestors in the Light

The day was a somewhat ordinary day until I saw the light hit the grey cement. Instantly my thoughts were of ancestors who'd walked before me perhaps on the same trail. Being highly creative, the light looked to me like shadowy people were walking forward except for one bearded man with a pronounced nose looking back at me. (On the left.) He must be one of my ancestors, I thought, he's definitely a burly Swede!

I started to drift into the past thinking about my ancestors. Time is complicated, I said to no-one in particular, and then reflected, My sense of time has morphed through stages in my life. As a child, time was something adults paid attention to and I wanted to hurry up. I remember being told to have a nap and that I couldn't get up until the clock's hand reached 12. Well, I picked up the clock and manually changed the hand. I ran to my Mother showing her the clock, Look Mom, the hand is at the 12. Of course she immediately looked confused, checked her watch and I was sent back to my napping spot.

I remember the push and pull of my early thirties as a mother of three. and a private flute teacher. Those were the days of oven casseroles, diapers, and attention to children. I used cotton fabric diapers so there was a lot of laundry, too. I was a stay-at-home mom, so these were my pleasures. Time was measured by food, changing diapers, sleeping babies, cleaning and music lessons. My sense of time now isn't so frantic but the laundry pile continues!

I wonder what ancestors would say about time. Probably nothing, where they are, I heard in my head. I also wondered how I fit into those who went before me? My Mother was the youngest of six children and probably didn't get a lot of attention from her Mom and Dad. She had five older siblings to spoil her and loved it when one would come home in the hot summer evening, wake her up and offer her ice-cream cones. Her mother decided to go to University after raising those six children. My Mother decided to become a teacher. She was a gifted pianist and taught piano and voice lessons all through my growing up years to children in towns where we lived and, of course, to her three girls. She and my father were pastor and pastor's wife, too, so there was a spiritual side to my life growing up. I can't help thinking my Mother loves that I write. She was a poet and wrote every morning just like I do, now. It was part of her inner growth just as it is for me.

My father grew up on a sheep and orchard farm and had strong Swedish ancestry. On a trip back to Sweden, my parents looked up their ancestors and managed to find one that had been a musician in one of the King's courts. My grandfather died before I was born, but in recent years I found out that he was a bit of a visionary. He advocated for a local airport so he and the other farmers could fly their fruit to Calgary in the early days of aviation! My father loved planes and worked in an airplane factory. He made a beautiful bracelet for his sweetheart that I now wear. Artistic and always full of ideas, I suspect my Dad was very much like his Dad, pushing the envelope of what was possible. My dad became a teacher and taught for a few years before his Dad died. While helping his mother out with the farm, he married my mother and decided to go to Theological School to become a preacher. I spent many hours in his study on the floor drawing pictures while he studied. I envision my Father and Grandfather nodding with understanding and a hint of recognition at my visions even though they're not so much about business endeavors and don't involve planes.

When we take a deep look at our family history, what society was like and how they lived, it informs who we are today. Looking back, it's easy to see why I chose to learn music, go to University, marry a preacher and have three children. What was a little less noticeable was my spiritual bent. Preacher's kids, PK's, tended to fall into the 'goody two shoes', the 'rebel' or 'don't rock the boat' categories. I was supposedly a 'goody two shoes', yet I felt more like I was good because I didn't want to 'rock the boat'. I went through a spiritual conversion in my mid-twenties which was perfect for my preacher's wife role. For a long time I didn't know there was anything more to spirituality other than going to church, doing church things and attempting to live a Christian-like life. Sure there were intuitive hits that seemed magical, but doing church things meant playing and singing in church, telling children's stories and leading bible studies. Isn't that what Christians do? I asked rhetorically.

Fast forward many years, being spiritual for me has changed from an outward role to an inside transformation. I believe that many of my ancestors in the Light were guiding and cheering me on for now light shines from my heart and soul and being spiritual has a completely different meaning. My sense of time has a completely changed, too, as this moment in time illustrates.

On my walk this week, I was having a difficult time with a personal matter and needed the quiet ocean, trees and lush vegetation to soothe me. The bench I chose to sit on was inviting except for the bright blue doggie bag peaking out of the blackberry bushes. Oh well, I sighed taking off my sunglasses so I could look at my phone to write. When I was satisfied with what I wrote and fortified inside, I continued down the path. Suddenly, I noticed I didn't have my favourite Italian vintage aviator sunglasses. I searched through my purse but they weren't there. Maybe I left them in the car, I thought, so carried on.

Suddenly I had an intuitive poke, thank you ancestors! I left my glasses on the bench. Whipping around, I walked back to the bench. No glasses in sight anywhere. Confused, I started to retrace my steps when I remembered seeing that small bright blue doggie bag nestled in the blackberry bushes when I first sat down on the bench. There was no blue anything in front of this bench. That's it! I may have said out loud, and, This isn't the right bench. I raced along the pathway to the next bench and there were my sunglasses and the bright blue plastic doggie poop bag. I may have heard whooping and hollering from the ancestors...

What is my relationship with time and spirituality now? When faced with communicating a delicate matter or searching frantically for lost glasses or whatever life has for me to experience, the difference in me today is that I can slow time down inside to process what's going on and get crystal clear. This is possible as I do the work of transforming inside daily. It isn't fluffy stuff and I am so definitely human! As for time, the moment time expands in us is when our thoughts are quiet and intuitive hearing and knowing become clear. That's the moment we can connect to life itself, receive guidance from within and acknowledge those who have gone before us, our ancestors in the light.