Beloved Reader!
Have you ever felt stuck? Perhaps things had been rolling along smoothly, but then you bumped into a wall despite your best efforts? Perhaps you tried a bit harder afterwards (just in case you were slacking off or missed something), but the result stayed the same?
I can tell you that I know this place very well! Energy can be flowing beautifully, then it stops. Sometimes it’s blocked, and sometimes it just needs a pause. Maybe something else needs to change somewhere else before progress can resume… sometimes it’s simply that rest is needed.
How do we know when to act, when to pause, and when to let it go completely?
Don’t push the river, it flows by itself. (Fritz Perls)
Some of you may already know that I am in a process of confirming Polish citizenship through my family’s bloodline. Both my soul and heart yearn to connect more deeply with my Polish ancestry, and carrying dual citizenship opens up possibilities to live and work abroad.
Well, this process has its own unique flavour of ups and downs!
As part of my ancestral research, I have been very interested in the spiritual and earth-based side of my Slavic roots. Who are the old gods and goddesses, who are the power animals, what are the healing herbs and medicines native to this part of the world? As I googled my way through some of these questions, I came up against a very strong Roman Catholic identity that seemed to eclipse the answers I hoped for. I could find any number of wonderful pilgrimages to sacred Christian sites, but none of note into the heart of, say, the primal Białowiesza Forest near Belarus…. I kept believing that there was a level of magic that I longed to touch, but it remained just out of reach…
And so, after many sincere attempts, I decided to let it rest. The quest was to lay percolating gently in the background, while I remained open for a sign. It was a long wait.
And then one day, I received an email announcing a new interview on a podcast I like called Mythic Medicine. The guest that day was a woman named Atava Garcia Swiecicki, and the topic was "Ancient Medicine &The Love of the Ancestors". What luck, right up my alley! Atava is an herbalist with a Polish father and Mexican mother. She had written her master’s thesis on Indigenous Medicine, and was speaking about her process of how she gathered the threads of her story. I listened intently to the interview, wrote to her right away, and ordered her thesis. I both savoured and devoured her story and her research.
Most importantly, the lights went on, and I learned what I had been missing. It was something crucial, that I had not come to on my own…. something small, yet very big.
Atava was mentored by healers- medicine women and men. Their unanimous advice to her was this: If you wish to open respectful communication with your ancestors, begin by giving them an offering. If you know your traditional offering, for example tobacco in the case of North American peoples, give that. I knew that Poles always bring bread and salt to a new home. And so I prepared an offering of sea salt and rye bread.
Since I was in Toronto, I decided to visit the Polish church where I had been taking heritage language lessons for almost two years. It was still winter. Just outside the church stands a welcoming life-sized statue of Mary; I liked to talk to her before every class and whenever I passed by. On this visit, I asked for her protection, guidance and support for my quest. I offered thanks, and I sprinkled the salt and bread in the snow by her feet.
In the quiet that followed, I began to notice that sparrows were chirping in the small park across the street. (In fact, they are chirping right now outside my window as I write these very words… and chirping as I do my final edit ...) I took my extra bread to the parkette, and fed the sparrows. I spoke to them, and asked them too for their support and guidance. And I thanked them. I spent time watching them and listening to their chatter. I realized that their chirping was around me on a daily basis, yet I hardly noticed them… But I woke up to them and to their friendship that day.
Wróbel is the Polish word for sparrow, and it is the basis of my last name. Such beautiful synchronicity, and such a sweet animal spirit by my side.
And that’s when things started to flow again! Documents that I needed started to appear, my mother started sharing so many of her stories with me, and a chance encounter led me to an archived interview my father had given in 1978. He left this world 23 years ago, but I was able to hear his voice telling his life story, including his military experiences. It was moving, and I learned many new things.
I will be away for 10 days this month while I dive into the next chapter of my ancestral pilgrimage. First to Monte Cassino for the 75th anniversary of that battle (my father figured prominently there) and then for a few days in Warsaw. I plan to offer bread and salt once again, this time into the Vistula River that flows through Poland and its capital. And you can be sure that I’ll be keeping my eyes and heart open for sparrows and other signs while I’m there ….
As always, sending Love and Blessings to you! Here's wishing us all a joyous spring. May our hearts be light and free. May our eyes be open to the magic and medicine that is always around us.
~ Karusia Nirmala
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