In the Light of Our Ancestors a Third Quarter Moon Devotional
As the Third Quarter Moon rises, we walk the Via Positiva awakening, blessing, and beholding the sacred in all things.
Invocation
Holy One, Breath of All Life,
as the days shorten and the veil grows thin,
we turn our hearts toward the radiant mystery
that pulses through every leaf and living thing.
We give thanks for the great communion of being:
for the ancestors of blood,
whose bodies became the bridge by which we entered this world;
for the ancestors of spirit,
whose wisdom nourished our minds and souls;
and for the ancestors of land,
whose hands shaped the soil beneath our feet
and whose memory whispers through the wind and water.
Let us behold them now not in fear,
but in wonder and gratitude.
Teach us to see death as transformation,
and remembrance as praise.
May the light that shone through their lives
flow through us in this moment
a living river of blessing,
a song of joy still being sung.
Amen.
The Sacred Moment
Today, the third quarter moon rises, opening the middle way between light and darkness. May we feel the call to awe, to cosmic hospitality, to the art of savor, and to the kin-dom of God here and now. In the sacred light of the Third Quarter Moon, we walk the path of the Via Positiva: the way of wonder, the dance of delight, courage to speak the living Word of God into form. Our souls ache for blessing and community as we gather to taste the sweetness of life and share the joy with each other.
This is a moon to awaken, to bless, to behold.
Theme:
As we enter the season of Halloween, Samhain, and the long descent into winter, the air itself seems to shimmer with memory. The veil between our world and the other world thins. The trees bare their bones to the wind. Shadows lengthen earlier each evening, inviting us to turn inward, to listen. This is the time when our minds drift naturally toward thoughts of our own mortality, and that of those we have loved and lost.
At this threshold, two temptations arise. The first is aversion: the fear of our own death and the anxiety of what we will leave behind. The second is attachment: the grief that grips us in the absence of those who have gone before. Yet the Via Positiva—the way of awe and delight whispers a gentler invitation. It asks us not to flee from these truths or drown in them, but to behold them with wonder. The thinning veil is not a warning; it is a doorway. It opens so that we may rejoice in the sacred stream of life that flows through our ancestors: the ancestors of the bloodline, the milk line, and the land line.
The Via Positiva: Awe as Our Path Through Mystery
The Via Positiva teaches that all of existence, even death, is radiant with divine presence. To meet life and death with awe and delight is to see creation not as a cycle of endings, but as a continuous unfolding of sacred becoming. The falling leaf does not mourn the branch, it returns to the soil that will one day nourish the tree again.
When we contemplate our ancestors through this lens, we see not ghosts of the past, but living facets of the One Life that animates us now. They are not gone; they have transformed. Their love, their courage, their craft still pulse within the world and within us. To rejoice in them is to say yes to life itself.
Three Currents of Ancestry: Blood, Milk, and Land
Our connections to the ancestors flow through three sacred rivers.
The Blood Line carries the stories of endurance written into our very bodies. Each heartbeat is a drum echoing through generations. Every cell holds the wisdom of survival and the gift of being. We are, quite literally, made of those who came before.
The Milk Line nourishes our minds and spirits. It is composed of all who have fed our souls our parents and teachers, artists and mystics, the poets who gave us words when we had none, the mentors who saw something holy in us before we could see it ourselves. They may not share our blood, but they have shaped our becoming as surely as any ancestor.
The Land Line binds us to the earth and to the peoples who lived upon it before us. The soil remembers. The wind carries whispers of those who hunted, planted, built, and prayed here long before our time. To walk gently upon this ground is to walk among their stories, to inherit both the gift and the responsibility of belonging.
Each of these currents converges in us, forming the river of life that carries us forward.
Transformation of Fear into Gratitude
Too often we inherit a faith of fear: fear of death, fear of judgment, fear of what our ancestors did or left undone. The Via Positiva calls us to transform that fear into gratitude. We bless the gifts our ancestors gave without glorifying their harms. We hold their lessons close, even when they come wrapped in pain.
When gratitude replaces guilt, communion with our ancestors becomes joyful participation in the ongoing creation of life. They worked, struggled, loved, and dreamed so that we might exist and now we, too, shape the world for those who will follow. To honor them is also to reflect on how we might become ancestors worth remembering.
Living as a Note in the Great Song
Each of us carries the melody forward. We are both the fruit and the seed. To live in wonder is to honor those who sang before us. Our acts of creativity, compassion, and courage extend their song into the future.
Think of your life as one verse in an eternal hymn that began long before you were born and continuing long after you are gone. You are part of that harmony. Your words, your art, your love are not fleeting they echo in the lives you touch, becoming part of the world’s ongoing symphony of becoming.
The Practice of Gratitude: Communion in the Flow of Love
Gratitude is not a polite gesture, it is a sacred act. It is the recognition that we are participants in a vast dance of giving and receiving. When we give thanks for those who came before, we join hands with creation itself.
Take a moment, wherever you are, to breathe and whisper thanks to your ancestors of blood, of spirit, and of place. Let gratitude flow through you like light through stained glass, each color a facet of the love that shaped you.
Gratitude unites past, present, and future in one continuous flow of love. In that flow, death loses its sting, and life becomes radiant again. To remember with joy, to honor with wonder, this is our true communion.
Practice: The Flow of Gratitude
Find a quiet place where you can sit comfortably. If possible, let yourself be near a window or somewhere you can feel the light.
Take a few slow, steady breaths. Feel the air entering and leaving your body the same breath that moved through your ancestors, the same breath that stirs the trees and tides.
When your breathing settles, imagine a soft light glowing at the center of your chest. With every inhale, that light brightens; with every exhale, it expands outward.
Now, let that light become the color of gratitude: warm, radiant, and alive.
Begin by whispering thanks to your ancestors of blood, those whose bodies and courage brought you into being. See their faces, or feel their presence as a current of strength in your bones.
Inhale—receive their blessing.
Exhale—offer them your love.
Next, turn your heart toward your ancestors of milk, those who have nourished you through wisdom, art, friendship, and teaching. Remember a voice that still echoes in you, a story that changed you, a kindness that shaped your soul.
Inhale—receive their inspiration.
Exhale—offer them your gratitude.
Now, reach your awareness into the ancestors of the land: the soil beneath your feet, the rivers that have always run, the peoples who tended and blessed this place before you. Feel the steadiness of earth beneath your body, the heartbeat of the land echoing in your own.
Inhale—receive the grounding of the earth.
Exhale—offer your reverence.
Let all three streams: blood, milk, and land flow together within you. The light in your chest shimmers like stained glass, each color a facet of the love that shaped you.
Rest here for several breaths, allowing gratitude to circulate through your body like light through water.
When you are ready, whisper:
“I am the living gratitude of my ancestors.
May the light that flowed through them
shine through me into the world.”
Sit a moment longer, feeling the warmth of that truth. Then, return gently to the present moment, carrying that glow with you as quiet joy.
Closing Blessing: The Light That Flows Through Us
May the breath of the One Life weave through you,
the same breath that stirred the first dawn
and still moves through leaf and flame and star.
May your ancestors walk beside you,
those of blood who shaped your form,
those of milk who kindled your mind,
and those of land who rooted you in holy ground.
May their wisdom whisper through your choices,
their laughter echo in your joy,
and their courage steady your hands
for the work yet to be done.
Let gratitude be the song that guides your days,
turning remembrance into light.
And as you live, may others glimpse through you
the beauty of the stream that carried you here
a river of blessing that knows no end.
Go forth in wonder,
for you are the living prayer
of all who have ever loved.
Amen.
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