Hi & welcome,
I guess I had better get something posted here, wasn’t fully prepared to get writing so soon. I’ve been offline for a few months, more than half a year now.
I’ve been recharging my body and soul. I recently ran myself into the ground physically and overwhelmed myself spiritually by taking on too much and wanting to try everything all at the same time.
You already know me if you’ve seen my previous blog, thespookyplum, but here things will be a little different. My path has been decluttered and I am refocused on the things that inspire me most.
Those being paganism, witchcraft (not necessarily Wicca), nature and ancestor worship and mostly hoodoo.
I am still very interested in tarot, geomancy, Thelma and both Buddhism and Hinduism. However, these are things that will not necessarily be a direct part of the next step along my path. However, I am sure their influence will remain with me.
And who knows, I may return to them some day.
I feel a grate delight in knowing that my spiritual path has married with my ancestral one. I guess I need to explain that a little.
All my life I have felt a great absence and need to find out where we came from. This arose from knowing that my great-grandfather had been abandoned as a baby. At that time, orphans were given a surname inspired by where they were found.
Sadly, my great-grandfather was never adopted and his temporary surname became permanent and inherited by us.
I am 4th (of 5th) generation of the only family that carries our surname, donated to us by a small traditional and somewhat conservative christian village in east England.
Knowing this from a young age, I wanted to know where had his parents come from, why had they left him behind? Why did they travel to/through that village and decide that was a good place to leave their young child?
With no records, there was no way to find out.
My mother’s family also had a story, one that was about our lost relatives and one that sounded more like rumour than anything real.
Supposedly our family had been shamed when one of our ancestors had ran off with a slave, a human being that our family “owned” or from elsewhere. We didn’t know.
This was never a comfortable story for us to tell or hear, especially growing up in a city where the rich had once built their mansions on the backs of those they had stolen from their homelands.
Yet another history that couldn’t be proven.
Or so I thought. When I was offered the chance to take part in National Geographic’s genetic mapping project I jumped at the chance to get an idea of where we came from.
I think it was called Genographic Project.
My father’s family was shown to be 100% homegrown British. OK, so that doesn’t really help us know the story of my great-grandfather’s early months of life. Yet, it does mean we can limit where in the world to look. The UK.
The big surprise and moment of pride, love and uplifting (especially for me and my mum) was the discovery that the family legend was real – with one little twist. It was us who were descended from a union between an Englishman and the woman he liberated with love.
Whoever she was, she came from a mixed lineage of African and Native American ancestors. Where exactly in Africa and the USA? I do not know how easy that would be to find out. To be honest, it doesn’t matter.
Much like my bloodline, finding a blend of native religions from the UK, North America, Africa and their union in hoodoo and voodoo feels like coming home.
Actually, I’ve only come to hoodoo in this past month. I started reading a few books, but this time I will not fall into the same trap. I want to live hoodoo, and have already started to incorporate it (slowly) into my life. I will share how in the next post.
Thanks for stopping by, see you again soon.