Rituals of Return, Post 4: When We Are Ready to See
- Takia Thompson
- Oct 6
- 3 min read
Rituals of Return, Post 4: When We Are Ready to See
There are moments when the veil thins.
Moments when clarity doesn’t arrive through logic or planning but through movement, rhythm, and surrender.
Moments when our ancestors speak in color, storm, and stillness.
The Akan people of West Africa call this Sankofa: the act of going back to fetch what has been forgotten, so that we can move forward in truth.
To see clearly, we must sometimes look backward.
To move forward, we must first remember.
The Vision at Lake Wenatchee
Some years ago, I was searching for connection — to God, to my ancestors, to my own body.
I didn’t have words for what I needed. I only knew I was ready to listen.
So I put on music and began to move. Slow, rhythmic, intuitive movement — nothing planned, nothing choreographed. Just the body speaking the language of release. As I moved, something in me shifted. I felt myself standing in water — a place I’ve known since childhood — Lake Wenatchee.
The water was cool, grounding, steady. I looked out and saw the colors start to dance — lights like fireflies, but faster, brighter, moving all around me in hues of gold, green, and blue. I knew, without needing to name it, that these were ancestral energies — the presence that had been waiting all along.
And then, from behind the mountains, came a rolling storm. Gray, heavy clouds that did not frighten me. I knew that this was the power of the Divine itself — God, Creator, the Source that moves through everything.
There was no fear. Only awe.
And in that moment, I asked for protection — not for myself, but for my brother.
Someone I have had to release for my own safety, and yet, someone my soul still holds in deep love.
I asked that he be surrounded, protected, given the chance to live.
That was the clarity: not a vision of future events, not an answer to a question, but a remembrance of my power to love, protect, and trust in the unseen.
The Ancestral Seeing
Seeing isn’t always about vision.
Sometimes it’s about recognition — remembering what your body already knows.
Movement clears the fog. Water reflects what’s ready to be seen.
When we are ready to see, the ancestors often show us what we’ve been avoiding:
the parts of ourselves that still ache, the relationships that still tether us, the truths that are ready to rise.
Clarity comes after the stillness that follows movement.
When the energy settles, the water clears, and what lies beneath can be witnessed with compassion.
Ritual Invitations for Clarity
These are gentle practices to help you open your inner sight — to let your body, not your mind, lead the way.
1. The Candle + Shadow Ritual
At dusk, light a single candle.
Sit where the flame casts your shadow on the wall.
Watch it dance.
Ask softly, “What truth am I ready to see?”
Do not force the answer. Just observe what moves — in the flame, in the body, in the breath.
Clarity reveals itself in presence, not pressure.
2. The Dream Bowl Ritual
Fill a bowl with clean water and place it beside your bed.
Before sleeping, whisper your question or intention into the water.
Ask your ancestors to show you what you’re ready to receive.
In the morning, write what you remember — even fragments, sensations, colors.
Pour the water into the earth when you’re done.
Let the land hold what has been revealed.
Reflection: The Threshold of Seeing
When we are ready to see, the veil lifts — not because we demand it, but because we have softened enough to let it happen.
This readiness isn’t about worthiness. It’s about resonance.
When the body and the spirit align, truth reveals itself.
So I ask you:
What truths are waiting for you beneath the surface — patient, luminous, and ready to meet your gaze?
You can trust what your body already knows?
Closing Note
This is the work I hold in my containers — spaces for Black women and those called to this work to listen deeply, remember their own knowing, and find clarity through the body, through the ancestors, and through presence.
We are not seeking answers outside of ourselves.
We are remembering that we were always the answer.
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