Over the past year, I have been curiously deep diving into my ancestry. My paternal grandfather, Ed, would be in awe of the technology now available at our fingertips. Back in the day, he corresponded through letters with genealogical societies all over the country in search of our relations. He created priceless ancestry books for my brother and me. As I build all sides of my family tree, I can’t help but think of my work in the world as a curious birth educator.
You see, there are many layers to this work of exploring ‘birth.’ Birth is not a singular event; the gestures and unspoken memories of this time period are stored deep in our bodies and are re-awakened, re-activated at various junctures (times of stress or times of joy) in our lives. It might look like chronic anxiety, unexplained grief, a foreboding sense of fear, and so forth.
You don’t have to have children or be a parent to enjoy the delicious exploration of this work; simply a soft stance of wondering. We all have the universal experience of arriving ‘Earthside’ via the vessel of birth. If you think of birth work in layers, one of the first layers we explore is ancestral patterns.
An Invitation
Invite in some space for yourself. Pause for a moment and gaze out your window, noticing three things that you can see. Feel your seat and your feet connecting to the Earth. Take a deep breath in and a long breath out. Maybe bring a hand to your heart and just feel what is beneath your palm. And from this space, I invite you into an exercise.
And I pause in honoring that not everyone has had the warmest and fuzziest experience with their family lineage, so I see you doing hard things. Perhaps feeling messy, rageful, angry, scared, and I deeply honor your discomfort. It takes courage to gaze over our shoulders and deep into our line. I see you. I, too, wade through uncomfortable waters in the midst of claiming my sovereignty.
I’m not a geneticist or an embryologist, and by no means am I a scientist, but in my studies, I have learned that our cellular life begins in our maternal grandmother’s womb. That, my friends, blew my socks off.
I often use this in sessions with my clients. It’s a very potent way to begin connecting with the maternal lineage of our family line. It’s an invisible thread that connects us back to these women. So as I gaze back into my lineage, I name that:
I am Sarah.
Daughter of Nancy.
Granddaughter of Marian.
Great-granddaughter of Olive.
This naming out loud always brings tears to my eyes and a softness to my heart. And so, when I lean into my maternal line, I can begin to wonder about the lives of these women. What was a pattern that perhaps wasn’t ever talked about? What was a way of being that was counterintuitive to the culture? What hardships were present? What griefs were observed? What joys were celebrated?
There are many more questions, my friends, but these are just a few to get you started. This work continually touches that part of my heart that longs to be of service in the world. It has changed my life and relationships in many ways. If you’re curious and wonder what it might look like in your life, please reach out. We begin building relationships in the womb. The lives of our ancestors can offer great insight into our journey.
With Joy,
