Herbs for Spooky Season, Part Three: The Ancestors
Herbs for Remembrance and Communion
The world has grown quiet now. The air tastes like woodsmoke and endings. Leaves drift to the ground like slow burning prayers. We stand between seasons, in the space where life and death meet and speak softly to each other.
This is the time of remembrance. The turning of the wheel that draws us inward once more, toward the hearth and the heart. Toward the ones who walked before us.
Across cultures and centuries, this is the season of the ancestors. In Celtic lands, it was Samhain, when the veil between worlds thinned and the living lit candles to guide beloved spirits home. Food was set aside for the dead, fires were tended through the night, and prayers were whispered for safe passage and blessing.
To remember is to belong. To honor those who came before us is to remember that we did not begin alone.
The Meaning of Ancestral Connection
To speak of ancestors is to speak of the living thread that weaves through time, breath, and body. It is not just a study of the past but a remembering of continuity. The ancestors are not gone. They are the pulse beneath the soil, the warmth in our blood, the pattern in our bones. They live in our gestures, our instincts, our songs.
When we begin to honor our lineage, we are not summoning ghosts, we are entering into a relationship with the source of our own becoming. Every breath we take is borrowed from those who breathed before us. Every seed we plant grows from soil enriched by lives that came and went.
Some of us carry the names and stories of our ancestors close, passed down through generations like heirlooms. Others have had those stories severed by time, distance, or harm. Some of us walk with chosen kin, friends and teachers who became family through love and recognition rather than blood. All of these threads are sacred. The living and the dead are bound not only by lineage but by care.
To work with the ancestors is to remember that we are part of a greater ecosystem of memory. They are not distant or abstract. They are the whisper in the wind when you think of them, the flicker of warmth in your chest when you light a candle in their name. They are the ones who survived so that you could be here now.
For some, ancestral work is about healing what was broken. For others, it is about reclaiming wisdom that was buried or forgotten. It may be both. In honoring them, we do not excuse harm, but we seek understanding. We tend the soil of our lineage so that what grows next will be healthy and whole.
If you feel disconnected from your ancestors, begin with gratitude. Thank the lineages that carried you, known and unknown, seen and unseen. Trust that remembrance itself is a bridge. The act of reaching creates connection.
When we make space for the ancestors, we invite guidance, comfort, and grounding. They remind us that we are never truly alone. In a world that often forgets its roots, ancestral tending becomes a radical act of belonging.
Ways to Begin Connecting with the Ancestors
You do not need elaborate rituals to begin this work. Connection begins with presence, with awareness, with small acts of care. Here are a few ways to open the doorway gently.
1. Create a space of remembrance.
Choose a quiet place in your home and dedicate it to your ancestors. It could be a small table, a shelf, or a corner with a candle. Place objects that hold meaning to you - photos, heirlooms, natural items, or symbols of your heritage. Speak their names or simply sit in silence, allowing the space to fill with warmth and memory.
2. Offer gratitude through daily life.
Cook a meal your grandparents loved, plant herbs your family used, or share a story about a relative who shaped you. These acts of remembrance feed the bond between the living and the dead. They tell the ancestors that their efforts were not forgotten.
3. Listen through the body.
Your body is an ancestral archive. The shape of your hands, the rhythm of your breath, even your fears and talents carry echoes of those who came before. When you move, dance, or rest intentionally, you give your ancestors a way to express themselves through you.
4. Walk where they once walked.
If you can, visit ancestral lands, old family homes, or even a place that feels like home to your spirit. If travel is not possible, step into nature where you live and introduce yourself to the land. Say, “I am of those who came before me, and I walk here in gratitude.”
5. Begin with prayer.
If words feel right, speak them aloud. If not, let your breath become the prayer. A simple offering might sound like this:
“Beloved ancestors, I honor you. I thank you for your courage, your wisdom, and your life. May I walk in a way that brings peace to our line.”
These gestures do not require perfection. Sincerity is enough. The ancestors listen through the heart, not the ritual. What matters is the relationship.
Herbal Allies of the Ancestors
The herbs of remembrance are tender yet powerful. Their roots stretch through centuries of story and prayer. Each carries memory in its scent, teaching us that death and life are not opposites but companions.
Herbs we have met before may return now in new roles. Plants are living teachers, their medicine changing as the season turns. Mugwort, Yarrow, and Bay remind us that versatility is wisdom. The same plant that protects us in one chapter may guide us through grief in another.
Rosemary: The Remembrancer
Rosmarinus officinalis
In ancient Greece, students wore Rosemary crowns to sharpen the mind and memory. In England, brides and mourners both carried it, one to remember vows, the other to remember love. At funerals, sprigs of Rosemary were laid upon coffins or burned in offering so that the scent of remembrance would rise with the soul.
Rosemary is sacred to memory because she bridges clarity and spirit. She wakes the mind while purifying the air. In this season she stands as guardian of the ancestral hearth, ensuring that when we call the dead, we do so with clear intention and an open heart.
Use it for:
• Strengthening memory and ancestral connection
• Cleansing spaces before or after communion
• Awakening clarity during grief or ritual
Ways to work with Rosemary:
Hang a bundle of Rosemary above your altar to keep the space clear. Burn a small amount before meditation or use her infused oil to anoint candles dedicated to the dead.
Ritual:
Hold a sprig of Rosemary in both hands. Breathe deeply and say, “Through remembrance I honor the life that lives through me.”
Light the sprig in a fire safe dish. Let the smoke drift over photos, letters, or heirlooms. As it fades, whisper thanks to the ones who came before.
Rose: The Bridge of Love
Rosa spp.
In many cultures, Rose is said to grow where tears of devotion fall. Her thorns remind us that love and pain are intertwined, that the heart must sometimes bleed to stay open. Among the living and the dead alike, Rose carries the frequency of unconditional love.
To work with Rose in ancestral rites is to remember that loss does not sever connection. Her soft petals hold the vibration of tenderness that transcends time.
Use it for:
• Healing grief and heartache
• Inviting compassion and forgiveness into remembrance
• Opening the heart to communicate with ancestors in peace
Ways to work with Rose:
Place a bowl of Rose petals and water at the center of your altar. Drink Rose tea before meditation or use her oil on your chest to soothe the emotional body.
Ritual:
Gently touch your heart and say, “Love endures beyond the veil.”
Offer a single Rose petal for each person you wish to honor, speaking their name aloud. When finished, pour the petals into running water or bury them beneath a flowering plant.
Cedar: The Eternal Flame
Thuja plicata or Cedrus spp.
Cedar has been used in sacred fires and cleansing rituals for thousands of years. In North America, it is one of the four sacred medicines of many Indigenous nations, burned to purify the body, mind, and spirit. In the Mediterranean, Cedar groves were seen as dwelling places of the gods, where prayers rose straight to heaven.
Cedar holds the memory of eternity. Her scent grounds the spirit and reminds us that even in decay there is renewal. She teaches endurance and continuity, the flame that never goes out.
Use it for:
• Purification of ancestral altars and homes
• Blessing offerings and tools
• Strengthening the line of communication between realms
Ways to work with Cedar:
Burn small pieces of Cedar on charcoal or keep a branch near your door to maintain spiritual cleanliness.
Ritual:
Light Cedar and say, “May this smoke rise as my gratitude. May this flame remind me of what endures.”
Wave the smoke over your heart and altar. When you finish, return the ashes to the earth in thanks.
Calendula: The Golden Healer
Calendula officinalis
In old European folklore, Calendula was called Mary’s Gold. It was planted at graves and thresholds to call upon warmth and protection for those who passed on. The flower opens with the morning sun and closes at dusk, symbolizing the daily rebirth of light from darkness.
Calendula shines like the low autumn sun, gentle yet unwavering. She reminds us that joy is not the absence of grief but the light that survives it.
Use it for:
• Comforting the heart and easing emotional fatigue
• Healing lingering sadness from loss
• Inviting brightness and balance into remembrance work
Ways to work with Calendula:
Steep her petals in oil for soothing anointing blends or drink her tea when your heart feels heavy. Add her to baths with Rose or Chamomile for comfort.
Ritual:
Hold a handful of dried Calendula petals. Say, “Golden light, return to the places sorrow has dimmed.”
Scatter the petals around your altar or along a forest path as an offering to the sun and the ancestors who walk unseen beside you.
Yarrow: The Guardian at the Gate
Achillea millefolium
Yarrow has always stood at the threshold between the living and the dead. In old European lore, she was hung above doors and placed in graves to guide and protect spirits crossing between worlds. Warriors carried her into battle to stanch wounds, while healers used her to tend the unseen wounds of grief and loss.
In ancestral work, Yarrow stands watch. She is the gatekeeper who ensures the path between realms remains clear and safe. When we open ourselves to ancestral contact, Yarrow steadies the energy, helping us hold strong boundaries so that only those who come in love may enter.
Her leaves and blossoms radiate quiet strength. She teaches that protection is not about shutting the world out but about knowing what belongs within your circle and what does not. In this way, Yarrow is the ally of both healer and medium.
Use it for:
• Maintaining energetic and spiritual boundaries during ancestral work
• Creating safety when inviting the dead into circle
• Strengthening the heart when grief feels overwhelming
Ways to work with Yarrow:
Keep a bundle of dried Yarrow near your altar or doorway to guard sacred space. Add a few blossoms to baths or teas when working through grief or emotional release. Burn Yarrow before and after any ancestral ritual to open and close the space with clarity.
Ritual:
Hold a small bundle of Yarrow and say,
“Guardian of thresholds, keeper of peace, stand beside me as I call my kin.
Let only love and truth pass through. Let my heart remain open and strong.”
Wave the Yarrow around your space or over your heart as you speak. When the ritual is complete, place the bundle at the edge of your altar or bury it near your doorway as a blessing of protection and remembrance.
Mugwort: The Dream Bridge
Artemisia vulgaris
Mugwort has long been known as a herb of the veil. In European folklore, she was burned to guide spirits safely to the other side and to protect travelers moving between worlds. Her silver-backed leaves shimmer like moonlight, and her presence has always been tied to the mysteries of sleep, intuition, and communion with the unseen.
Among the ancestors, Mugwort is a messenger. She opens the inner pathways where spirit and memory meet, allowing dreams to become the language of connection. Through her, we receive visions, symbols, and subtle sensations that help us understand what our ancestors wish to share.
She is also a guardian of thresholds. Just as she invites communication, she ensures that what enters is meant for you and what is not will pass by. Mugwort teaches discernment as much as she teaches openness.
Use it for:
• Deepening ancestral connection through dreams and meditation
• Receiving messages and insight from the spirit realm
• Creating protection during divination or trance work
Ways to work with Mugwort:
Brew a small cup of Mugwort tea before bed to invite dreams of guidance. Place a sprig beneath your pillow, or keep a small sachet near your bed to strengthen intuitive connection. Burn a pinch before ancestral rituals to open your senses and prepare the space for communication.
Ritual:
Before sleep, light a candle and hold a Mugwort leaf in your hand. Speak aloud:
“Spirit of Mugwort, keeper of the veil, open the path of clear seeing.
If my ancestors wish to speak, may their messages come gently and in love.”
Place the leaf under your pillow or on your bedside table. Upon waking, write down any dreams, sensations, or emotions that linger. Offer gratitude by returning the Mugwort leaf to the earth or to running water.
Bay: The Flame of Offering
Laurus nobilis
Bay was sacred to Apollo, god of prophecy and light. In Greece, temples were wreathed in her leaves during rites of divination. Romans burned her in household shrines to honor ancestors and protect the family line.
Bay teaches devotion and renewal through fire. Her spirit is both sharp and radiant, clearing confusion while carrying prayers upward.
Use it for:
• Writing prayers or petitions to ancestors
• Clarifying intuition and prophetic vision
• Fire offerings and spiritual renewal
Ways to work with Bay:
Write messages of gratitude or remembrance on dried leaves. Burn them safely in candle flame, or keep a few tucked into ancestral offerings.
Ritual:
Hold a Bay leaf close and speak the names of those you honor. Light it and say, “Through this flame, my love rises to meet you.”
As the smoke curls upward, imagine their blessings returning in gentle waves of warmth.
Ritual: The Ancestral Hearth
This ritual creates a place of remembrance and welcome for your ancestors, whether of blood, spirit, or choice.
You will need:
• A small table or surface for your altar
• A candle
• A bowl of water
• A few of the herbs above
• An offering such as bread, honey, or a stone
• Optional: photos, heirlooms, or symbols of chosen kin
Steps:
Prepare your space with Cedar or Rosemary smoke.
Arrange your altar and light the candle.
Speak aloud:
Beloved ones, seen and unseen, of my blood and my spirit, of my choosing and my heart, you are welcome here. I honor your journeys. I thank you for the life and wisdom you carried forward.Offer your gift and listen in stillness.
Close by thanking them and pouring the water outside as release.
Return to your altar often. It is not a fixed or distant shrine but a living, breathing space that grows with you. You may add fresh offerings, new herbs, or simple tokens of daily gratitude. Sit with your ancestors as you would dear friends. Light a candle while you drink your morning coffee and speak to them softly. Tell them what you are working on, what you fear, and what you hope for. End the day with them as part of your evening routine.
The altar becomes a shared hearth between the living and the dead. Each time you visit, the connection strengthens. What begins as ritual becomes relationship, and what was once silence begins to hum with memory, warmth, and quiet guidance.
Ancestral Ethics and Boundaries
The spirit world is built on relationship, and all relationships require respect. Always ask permission before inviting ancestors or other spirits into your space. You do not need to work with every ancestor. Some may not yet be ready, and that is fine.
Trust your body’s signals. If you feel heavy or uneasy, pause and cleanse. Yarrow, Cedar, and salt water are excellent for grounding and protection. Remember that you have agency in this work.
Chosen ancestors and spiritual mentors are just as worthy of honor as bloodline kin. Offer gratitude to those whose values, art, or courage shaped you.
Communion should never replace self-care. You are the living continuation of your lineage, and your well-being matters.
Non-Human Kin of Memory
This season belongs to the beings who carry stories between worlds.
Crow gathers what is forgotten and returns it to those who are ready to remember.
Smoke carries prayers skyward, wrapping the living and the dead in a shared breath.
Fire transforms offerings into light. Every flame is an act of remembrance.
Stone holds memory in silence. Keep one from your ancestral land or a place that feels sacred to you.
River reminds us that memory moves. To release grief, offer tears or petals to flowing water.
Invite these kin into your rituals just as you would the ancestors. Speak to them as relatives. Thank them when they depart. The more you listen, the more you will learn that memory itself is alive.
Inviting the Ancestors into Circle
Before you begin any ancestral work, take a moment to open your senses to their presence.
Speak aloud:
Ancestors of blood, spirit, and heart, I welcome you with love and respect.
If it is right, join me here in peace.
Guide me in ways that bring healing for all who came before and all who will come after.
Then pause. Notice any sensations, emotions, or subtle shifts. Trust the response that arrives.
When closing, say:
With gratitude I thank you. Return now to your rest in love and peace.
Offer water, smoke, or a few crumbs of bread as a sign of thanks.
Reflections and Practice
Ancestral work is not about knowing every name. It is about remembering that we are part of something larger than ourselves.
Reflection Prompts:
• What qualities or gifts have I inherited that I am grateful for
• What stories or patterns am I ready to release
• Who are my chosen ancestors, and how do they walk with me
• How does remembering bring healing to the present
Daily Practices:
• Light a candle each evening in honor of those who came before
• Cook a meal with an ancestor in mind and share the first bite as offering
• Write letters to your ancestors and burn them with Bay or Rosemary smoke
• Speak their names aloud. The spoken word keeps memory alive
If strong emotions arise, ground yourself with Rose or Calendula tea. Step outside and breathe the night air. You are the bridge between past and future.
Author’s Note
This part of the series was written beside my own ancestral altar, the scent of Cedar and Rose filling the room. I felt my parent’s presence in the quiet, their laughter flickering in the candle flame. Keen and watchful eyes, gentle hands, feeling their love flood my chest like honey. Tears come and I honor and offer them as offerings to my ancestors.
Ancestral tending is not only for the wise or initiated. It belongs to anyone willing to remember. Every prayer, every offering, every gentle act of gratitude becomes a thread in the great weaving of connection.
As the wheel turns toward Samhain, may your hearth burn bright and your heart stay open to those who walk beside you, seen and unseen.