The Question That Changed Everything: What Did My Ancestors Know That I Don’t?
Some questions don’t ask for quick answers—they ask for a new way of living.
Some questions don’t ask for quick answers—they ask for a new way of living. This one cracked something open in me. Maybe it will for you, too.
I didn’t grow up talking about ancestors.
I grew up with “God”, but no one ever told me I could talk to the people who came before me. No one told me they were still listening. Still guiding. Still waiting.
But then this question found me:
“What did my ancestors know that I don’t?”
And suddenly... everything shifted.
Because the more I sat with it, the more I realized:
My people had entire ways of living that the world tried to erase.
They knew how to speak to the earth, how to bless water, how to use dreams as maps.
They knew how to raise children without urgency.
How to heal a body with leaves and prayer and rhythm.
How to live in spiritual relationship with the world, not just in reaction to it.
And I knew—without knowing how—I wanted that again.
So I started building my way back.
One bowl of water. One page of reading. One candle lit in silence.
Not because I had the answers... but because I was ready to remember.
This month inside Sundana, we’re centering this exact question. We’re exploring it through story, ritual, journaling, and learning. I’m diving into reading and exploring African memory.
But even if you’re not a member yet—I want to leave you with this:
🖋️ Reflection Prompt:
What do you think your ancestors would want you to unlearn in order to return to yourself?
Let that question walk with you this week. Write about it. Dream with it.
And if you’re ready to deepen this work, join us inside the monthly Sundana Ritual Membership. This is your invitation to remember.
🔗 Join the Sundana Membership →
Dropping July 1-You’ll receive:
Our book of the month selection + guided reflection
Journal prompts, attunement audio + rituals
Gentle structure to guide your spiritual return
You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present.
Let’s remember—together.
With Love,
Aja