Making Your Ancestor Altar

Making Your Ancestor Altar

Maybe you spent a quiet day of reflection, or maybe you choked down greasy food while your uncle ranted in his MAGA hat. Even when our living and known ancestors aren't people we easily love, ancestors are the best source of spiritual connection.

An ancestor altar can be large or small, in an out-of-the-way corner or in a prominent spot. Someone with roommates or privacy concerns could have something as simple as a picture of a departed loved one with a candle.

There are no rules, except not to mingle things of the living on the ancestor altar, less the ones who have passed on call to the living and bring them over too soon.

My altar recently grew, partly with the addition of some great art. Spending money and having artwork isn't needed--an altar can be simpler or even feature your own artwork. Besides the work I bought from an artist--and supporting artists and rootworkers is important to me--most items on the altar are things I already had.


This lovely shoe artwork is the center of my altar. It represents justice and diversity, and was made by the wonderful Auntie Sindy at Todomojo, who offers lots of reliquaries, artwork, and readings. The mirror with shells around it  was made by my Grandpa and is positioned to help show off the back of the shoe. All animal products were humanely gathered from naturally-deceased animals. 


The back of the shoe has vertebrae (again, humanely collected). It reminds me of my need to work on my root chakra and remain mindful of the needs of my spine, a particular challenge through my life. The scarf belonged to my grandma. 


Both sides of the shoe are gorgeous. My deceased protector/familiar dog watches over from behind.


The front of the shoe pushes forward, the dollies representing diversity. My husband's family is more highlighted on one side of the altar (mine on the other--but they are not strictly segregated), and we use battery-operated candles for a 24-hour burning without fire worries when we are gone or asleep. 



Our altar is the top of an entertainment center. The dolly to the right is made of my Grandma's old scarves. The tin cup belonged to my grandparents and sat by their sink; I use it for liquid offerings. We honor human family, but also our deceased animal companions and musicians (such as the print of John Lennon's Little Flower Princess lyrics). 

Five Tips for Honoring Ancestors on Thanksgiving Day

For many of us, Thanksgiving brings up painful memories--family hurts, alienation, and angst add to the macabre spectacle of murdering millions of sentient beings to simply have everyone pronounce their corpses "too dry." Oh, and add the misrepresentation and misplaced nostalgia around indigenous Americans, and it's enough to make you flip your construction paper feather headdress.

Working with ancestors is an opportunity to go deeper around holidays than family as we know them in this realm. (Talk about an "otherworldly religion"--nothing makes one long for another realm than a few minutes with one's family in this one!)

Related image
Ancestors got the groove . . . might as well join them!

Whether you celebrate Thanksgiving, Friendsgiving, or just waiting for an end to genocide and cultural appropriation, your ancestors can join you. Here are a few tips:

1.  Ancestors (blood and ideological) can share concerns of all kinds. Remember to call in known and unknown ancestors who share in your vision of Thanksgiving.

2.  Take advantage of having living ancestors gathered in one place. If you can get past Uncle Chester's MAGA hat, you may find someone who remembers your great grandparents and is a trove of stories.

3.  Make offerings. Ancestors love a little something on their altar, and now is a good time to get a piece of the beloved family pumpkin pie or other specialty. Ancestors only need a small amount (and remember to leave it outside for animals or in a compost area when done). I recently snuck a small amount of a treasured family recipe out of a gathering. The dish is so popular it is hard to feed just the living attendees, and my family is not ready to hear about my ancestor altar. So, I insisted on taking a teaspoon-full size taste home to my "dog." (There are pictures of my departed dog on my altar, and my living guy enjoyed the serving after a couple of days--no need to lie!)

4.  Celebrate alone! Small families (even of one) don't preclude celebration. Our ancestors are always with us--even when we feel alienated from family or when we don't choose to participate in the prevailing celebrations.

5.  Travel. Living relatives may remember the location of homeplaces, burial sites, and the like--and you can map your way to those places over Thanksgiving or later in the year. Don't forget ancestors who may not be related by blood--a historical site or nature area can be a great way to pass the day if you don't celebrate with a living family (or cut out early for sanity!).

There is growing recognition of the need to forge new traditions that are more inclusive, less reliant on historical inaccuracy and cultural appropriation, and celebratory of non-blood ties. Remember ancestors can be an important part of moving forward into a more just and sustainable world while honoring those who got us this far.

Calling Spirits Back In

I messed up.

I have a few good reasons. First, when it comes to magik, I'm largely self-taught. My Grandpa could heal and put life back in things--and there's nothing that is going to set someone up for trying to learn like seeing a beloved kitten brought back to life after an accident. But, we didn't discuss things openly--Grandpa walked strict lines between his church (back before Christianity got to be associated with hate and beating up gay people after service) and taking care of the people and animals that were brought to him. I learned what I could until my Grandpa died when I was 15, and then I returned as I could as I felt his call over the years. Next, I did not initially focus on conjuring or working with spirits. A lot of what I have done is spell work of the set-an-intention variety. Finally, I move instinctively--not always planning spells and rituals as carefully as I should and will try to do in the future. Although I joked, "I didn't know to do it because Piper didn't do that," referring, tongue in cheek, to Charmed, a lot of my work is a combination of what I feel called to do and cultural impressions that I absorbed from any number of sources.

When I began actively practicing a few years ago, I was on my own (in this realm) other than all the good reading materials out there. I cast my first spell, had great success, and carried on. I replicated what works, and had some great, otherwise inexplicable successes--court cases would just turn around. I would go from being told I could be a good little girl and keep my license and avoid sanctions if I dismissed the case to entertaining offers of settlement that climbed upward.

Within my success, however, was a maelstrom of confusion. Some cases dear to me fell apart inexplicably. Wins came with strings attached--winning one aspect of the case, but being chastised in another.

While in a class this past week, I heard a reference to calling spirits back in after sending them out. I listened carefully, being sure I understood what I just heard.

I had not called any spirits back in after a single spell. My approach was: "Hey, you all just go work on X. Thanks! Stay sweet!"

Ruh-roh!

I learned that spirits sent out will stick around, creating chaos and confusion. Chaos and confusion--my life for the past couple of years--the chaos made all the more confusing against the successes.

I went for a reading and cleansing. Right after, the chaos erupted big time--the body of the snake twitching after the head was cut off--in one matter. However, I finished up the classes and returned safely home, made another trip, got rested up, and woke this morning--after a week out of my office--to NO combative email messages or other bad news.

While I post samples of what has worked for me here, this blog is (fortunately) not an instruction manual, and I do not do work on a paid basis for others. Many spells would not be affected; I do not activate spirits for every spell.

However, conjuring is effective. I sent out some spirits (with great success) before learning much about it. I missed the important wrap-up: calling them back in when work is complete. In fact, instructions have to be very precise.

I will be posting more on conjuring, honoring ancestors, and experiencing the support of spirit in daily life and the legal world. However, before jumping in and calling in confusion, I suggest reading and consulting with experts--several links follow (some are affiliate links designed to make me rich).






Heading Off: Fok Magic Festival

I am heading off this weekend to New Orleans for the Folk Magic Festival.

Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

I am not one to easily jump on my broom and fly away. I do not like spending money in advance and placing control of my experience in the the hands of hotels. I do not like paying for airline tickets that seem to carry only one guarantee: delays and substandard treatment. In fact, this time I am setting off on a 13-hour drive--any delays will be my own.

Planning this trip has brought one thing to the fore: from the time I made my reservation, I had to fight to keep the time open on my calendar. A judge set a date, for hearing on a frivolous motion, for that week--I had to work to get it moved. Countless lawyers who had let court dates. filings, and depositions slide for a year or more chose that week to suddenly notice events. I fought, fiercely, each time to save the time I had reserved. Through next week, there are lawyers on "stand-by" to help in case someone notices up some silly motion, thinking my inability to go will result in my client's case being dismissed. I carefully turned down new cases and set limits. Read: I sacrificed money to be sure I did not make a commitment I could not keep.

In contrast, I had another friend go on a three-week trip that overlaps with mine. This week, during his first week, I have gotten countless email messages about his cases. Each time, I have responded with a firm reminder about my own schedule. While my friend has only been messaging me to keep me informed, his style of vacationing is in sharp contrast to mine.

More importantly, the bad behavior exhibited by my opposing counsel has shown me something: law is not a profession for anyone with any self respect. In what world can another party throw a wrench in plans by filing a motion, necessitating an appearance at a court date about which one is not consulted in advance--on pain of one's client losing everything and incurring malpractice liability? In what world can a low-vibration person with no spiritual evolution whatsoever designate (and issue binding subpoenas for) depositions at purposefully inconvenient places and times? The list could go on, but the point is clear: law is replete with behavior that must be tolerated despite rank inappropriateness. It is hard to turn ALL one's opposing counsel into toads.

I am going to use the Festival for reflection and learning, as intended. I hope to come back with a few more tricks for my bag and a greater understanding of a broad range of modalities.

More importantly, I've already learned one thing: while the practice of law can allow one to be a voice for justice, it carries a high price. There simply are not enough people of good faith in the legal profession to make it a realistic was to earn money, serve those in need, and maintain a reasonable lifestyle. The profession is given over to juveniles in over-priced suits who cannot work a calendar and petty tyrants who, with the power to ruin lives, cases, and careers with bad-faith motions and similar litigation tactics, will exercise that power.


This is a calendar. Most lawyers think they are too good to use one!

And I'm done.