Celebrating Ancestors
An Ancestors Altar
This week is Samhain (pronounced sow-win), which marks a turning point on the Celtic Wheel of the Year — is a time to celebrate the end of the harvest season, welcoming the dark half of the year and honour our ancestors. The Celts recognized that this is a time when the veils between worlds grow thin and connection with our ancestors comes more easily. Celebrations similar to this are found in different traditions and cultures, like All Saints Day in the Christian tradition and Día de los Muertos in Mexico.
A few years ago, while in Mexico, I had the gift of witnessing Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. During the joyful celebration we were invited to observe how families honour their ancestors with altars adorned with photographs, treasured belongings, offerings of food and drink, and bright marigolds, and brought joy through music, parades and dancing . I was struck by how joy and grief coexisted so beautifully — how celebration and remembrance were woven together. There was an understanding that joy is as sacred an offering to the ancestors as mourning, and that together they form a wholeness.
Since that experience, I have begun creating my own ancestor altar each year at this time. Though I hold some stories and memories of my family, many are lost — gone with those who have passed. I have often struggled to feel connected to my ancestors, to my own lineage, and to the lands from which they came.
A few years ago, during the Seminary of the Wild Earth program, we were invited to write about our ancestors — not only the human ones, but to imagine those who came before them, and before, and before again, reaching all the way back to the more-than-human ancestors. That invitation opened something profound in me. Considering the land itself as ancestor allowed me to sense the landscapes that live within me — in my mind, my heart, and my body. This ever expanding experience of interconnection helps me to remember I belong to this earth.
Who are your more-than-human ancestors?
A Sacred Practice: Creating an Ancestors Altar
You are invited into a practice of remembering —a quiet tending of the threads that connect us to those who came before.
An Ancestors Altar is a way to honour lineage — not only of blood, but of spirit, place, and the creative skills and wisdom passed down through generations. It is an act of gratitude, of reconnection, of belonging within the great web of life.
You are invited to gather a small space — a windowsill, a corner of your table, a place outdoors — and begin with intention.
Bring what speaks of your ancestors: photographs, a stone, a feather, a candle, a bowl of water, the scent of cedar or sage, the song of your people, symbols that represent them, foods or drinks they loved. Consider if the land is your ancestor who is the more than human world will you have on your altar?
Let your altar become a living conversation — a space to listen, to remember, to thank, to forgive.
Each time you light a candle or whisper a name, the boundary between worlds softens, and the love that created you draws nearer.
This is a gentle beginning — not about perfection, but presence.
Trust what calls to be placed, trust what arises in your heart.
Your altar will teach you how to listen.