The Wild Rose Journal arrives a couple of times a month, offering heartfelt reflections on healing, plant wisdom, grief, voice, and ritual. As a subscriber, you’ll also receive exclusive behind-the-scenes insights into what I’m creating, offering, and exploring—content you won’t find anywhere else.
Welcome to this issue of the Wild Rose Journal! As I'm writing this, I feel like it's a real time of transition - outside there's a thunderstorm rolling through the fells we live under; inside the kids are going batshit crazy because we've got to the point where the school holidays have gone on tooooo long... and next week my youngest will be starting school properly - so for the first time in I-can't-remember-how-many years, there's Mon-Fri without at least one small person to look after. The garden is now starting to draw to a close too - plums in, autumn raspberries coming thick & fast, and as usual one pumpkin makes it to ripening. The days of what seemed like unlimited strawberries are long past, and we're starting to turn within. So in what feels like a liminal space, this fortnight's post is about honouring the ancestors, and I'm sharing the ritual outline I use to connect with them. Simple, no-pomp, and this is something that's available to anyone. I'm also sharing a bit below about upcoming offerings from Wild Rose Path - including a very special launch offer for Rose & Ashes: A Grief Companioning Journey. Grief is not something we should be looking for others to solve for us, or get to the end of like a checklist... but so many of us have so much of it to process from the world we are living in right now, transitions we're going through, and from all the times we've pushed it down, ignored it, denied it, or it's trickled down our family lines. So if you're in need of some support in walking through grief, ready for a reset, or simply want to let go of your old narratives, read on. Honouring the Roots: A Ritual for Connecting with AncestorsThere are many ways to honour those who came before us — through blood, through place, and through the traditions we walk with today. This simple ritual is one I return to when I need grounding, guidance, or to remember that I’m not walking this path alone. In the weeks leading toward autumn — particularly in that liminal space between harvest and Samhain — I find the call to root down into lineage even stronger. It’s not just about looking back. It’s about connecting more deeply with the living threads that hold us here. Ancestors of Blood, Place, and TraditionWhen I first began this work, “ancestor” meant those I could trace through my family tree — the people I’d heard stories about, whose photos I had, or who I’d known in life. That kind of connection comes more easily; it’s tangible. But over time, I began learning about a wider ancestral web:
My interest began young — sparked by a school project in Year 6, then deepened in 2004 when I began researching my family history seriously. I think I was searching for a sense of grounding, connection, and belonging. Since then, I’ve uncovered stories, connected with distant relatives, and more recently, opened to the subtle sense that I’m not doing this work alone. Especially since my father’s death, this ancestral thread has become more alive. As my connection to spirit and energy work deepened, I began to include supportive ancestors in my inner circle of guidance. I invite them in regularly — to walk with me as I walk this path. A Simple Ritual for Ancestral ConnectionLife is busy, and I don’t always have time for the kind of elaborate rituals I once dreamed of. But what I’ve found is this: even the simplest gesture, done with intention, can create a powerful shift. Here’s the ritual I return to most often:
At Samhain or at harvest, I might expand this — leaving part of my harvest as thanks to ancestors of place, or cooking a meal that includes ancestral plants. But this simple ritual — when done consistently — helps me feel rooted, even in chaos. Why This Practice MattersThere is deep medicine in remembering we are not the first. Rooting into lineage reminds us that we come from survivors. It can help bring stability during times of change and offer a sense of belonging that transcends our current circumstances. This practice has helped me begin to unravel patterns passed through the bloodline — dysfunctions that don’t need to repeat again and again. It’s helped me feel seen and held, even when I had no one in the physical world to do that. And it’s kept me walking this Wild Rose Path, even when it felt hard to walk it alone. If You’re Just Beginning…You don’t need names. You don’t need family trees or perfect information. You just need a quiet space, a candle, a willingness to drop into your heart and breathe. Call in your well ancestors — those with your highest good at heart — and simply be. The connection may take time, like any relationship. But it can grow. If you feel disconnected from your family of origin or don’t know your roots, this practice can still be deeply healing. Even simply acknowledging inherited trauma and choosing to heal it is a powerful act of ancestral honouring. ClosingI don’t know if I would be here — on this path — without this connection. Without this remembering. And when the veils thin, whether at Samhain or simply in a quiet moment on the land, I’ll return again to that altar. To listen. To give thanks. To root in, so I can rise strong. Upcoming offerings from the Wild Rose Path
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The Wild Rose Journal arrives a couple of times a month, offering heartfelt reflections on healing, plant wisdom, grief, voice, and ritual. As a subscriber, you’ll also receive exclusive behind-the-scenes insights into what I’m creating, offering, and exploring—content you won’t find anywhere else.