On my altar, I have four figurines representing the four ancestral lines of my parents: my maternal grandmother’s line, my maternal grandfather’s line, my paternal grandfather’s line, and my paternal grandmother’s line. Each figure symbolises the gifts I may receive through that particular lineage.
For my maternal grandmother’s line, I searched for a long time for an image that felt right.
When I attune myself to this lineage, I see a long line of women before me. Women with healing and spiritual gifts. In my experience, many of them carry not only these gifts, but also the memory of a time when revealing them could be dangerous. I see women who were condemned and persecuted for what was considered witchcraft.
Hiding yourself was therefore also part of what I learned growing up. Perhaps even stronger was the message to stay far away from anything that might be associated with ‘witchcraft’.
And in my life, I did more or less the opposite.
Fortunately, I was born in different times. Although even today, spiritual and healing gifts are not always met with openness or respect.
Still, it took me a long time to truly dare to make myself visible with what I can do and what I experience in my work. For many years, somewhere inside me, there was a subtle fear of fully stepping forward.
I still find this difficult at times, but the struggle has changed. It is no longer so much about fear. It is about finding a way to make myself and my talents visible while, at the same time, maintaining a deep sense of humility.
Because what I can do does not feel as though it belongs to me alone.
My talents have grown, in part, from what I have been able to receive from my female ancestors. Their strength, their wisdom and their gifts continue to live within me in some form. I can develop, cherish and use these gifts, but their origin does not lie with me alone.
Perhaps humility, then, does not mean that I need to make myself smaller. Perhaps it means that I am allowed to become visible while continuing to acknowledge where my gifts come from.
When I started looking for an image that reflected what I had seen while attuning to my maternal grandmother’s line, I came across The Priestess by Ruth Thompson.
An Egyptian priestess. A powerful, almost dancing woman wearing a striking headdress, a broad usekh collar, bracelets and a flowing, translucent skirt. She holds a cat in her arms, an eagle rests on her shoulder, and a lion lies beside her.
A usekh collar was worn in ancient Egypt by both humans and gods and could, among other things, have a protective meaning.
But what touched me most were the animals. In the lion, the cat and the eagle, I recognised my own power animals. And in the woman, I recognised something of the feminine power I experience when I connect with my female ancestors.
The headdress with its two horns also touched me. To me, it symbolises a connection with the higher realms.
And so The Priestess found a place on my altar.
Not as an image of who I want to become, but as a reminder of what was already there before me.
Of women who carried their gifts.
Of women who may have had to hide them.
And of the possibility of allowing those gifts to become visible again in our time.
With gratitude. And with humility.
Will you journey with me?
In the autumn, the course *Connecting with Your Ancestors* will take place again in Amsterdam.
Discover the power and gifts that come to you through your ancestors.
Will you be there?
Prior to these live days in Amsterdam, there are also ONLINE circles around this theme.
See for more information, the leaflets below:
For this blog, I gratefully used AI as a conversation partner—an external resource that helped me find words for what was already unfolding within me.
Systemic Ritual and Systemic Constellations 