At the end of October and beginning of November, the threshold between the living and the dead is said to thin. Across cultures, this season invites remembrance and ancestor veneration — a time to honor those who came before us and the cyclical nature of life itself.

In Celtic traditions, this festival is Samhain (pronounced SAH-win), the pagan New Year and one of the most sacred points on the Wheel of the Year. Families across the world mark this time through offerings and remembrance — from Día de Muertos in Mexico to Fèt Gede in Haiti and All Souls’ Day in Christian communities.

For those on a pagan path, Samhain is both a festival of the dead and a threshold of renewal — a reminder that life and death are not opposites but companions. By creating space for the ancestors, we reconnect with the roots that sustain us and the stories that still live within our bones.

Candlelit Samhain altar with red candles, incense smoke, gourds, autumn leaves, and framed ancestor portraits representing Celtic and pagan traditions of remembrance. — *A traditional Samhain altar adorned with red candles, incense, gourds, and ancestor portraits. Each item symbolizes connection, protection, and the turning of the year.*

The Ancestral Thread

Ancestral connection is an ancient and intuitive practice — one that belongs to all people, regardless of lineage or belief. It is the simple recognition that we did not begin with ourselves. Our bodies, our stories, even the challenges we face, are shaped by those who lived and died before us. To honor them is not to romanticize the past, but to enter into a relationship with it — to listen, repair, and draw nourishment from the roots that sustain us.

This relationship is reciprocal. As we remember our ancestors, they remember us. In many traditions, the dead are not gone but transformed. They remain accessible as guides, protectors, and witnesses. Yet not every ancestor is ready to be called upon. Some may still be burdened by pain, fear, or confusion carried from their lifetime. When we reach out, it’s important to invite only those who are well and loving — the ones who are at peace, who wish to see us whole and thriving. These ancestors can serve as a bridge between our living selves and the healing power of the lineage.

Working with well ancestors creates a field of safety. Through them, the blessings of the line — its strengths, creativity, humor, and resilience — can flow freely again. They remind us that we come from both shadow and brilliance, and that healing the past is a living act of love.

Samhain: A Time Between Worlds

In the old Gaelic calendar, Samhain marked the beginning of the new year. The harvest was in, the herds were brought down from the hills, and the land entered its resting time. Communities gathered around great bonfires to honor the turning of the wheel and to offer gratitude for survival through the year’s labors. But Samhain was also a night of mystery. The veil between the worlds was believed to thin, allowing ancestors and spirits to visit the living.

Fires were lit at crossroads and hilltops to guide the dead home. Families set out plates of food and cups of cider, leaving doors unlatched for wandering souls. Candles flickered in carved turnips and gourds to protect against harmful spirits, a tradition that later evolved into the jack-o’-lantern. People dressed in masks to confuse or honor the unseen — a reminder that the living and the dead were never entirely separate.

For the ancient Celts, death was not an ending but a doorway. The ancestors were part of the community, still participating in the turning of the seasons. To this day, many pagans mark Samhain as a time of quiet reflection and communication with the dead — not through sensational displays, but through reverence, gratitude, and listening.

Creating an Ancestral Altar

One of the most direct ways to begin this connection is by building an ancestral altar — a physical place that holds space for remembrance and conversation. This doesn’t have to be elaborate. A small corner, a shelf, or a windowsill can become sacred when approached with intention.

1. Prepare the Space.
Clean the area and center yourself. You might burn herbs such as rosemary, mugwort, or juniper — traditional allies for purification and protection. As you cleanse, speak aloud your intention to welcome the loving and well ancestors only.

2. Gather Meaningful Items.
Place photographs, heirlooms, or symbols of your lineage on the altar. Add candles, seasonal fruits, and autumn leaves. In Celtic lands, apples, bread, and whiskey were common offerings. You might also include stones or soil from ancestral homelands, or a bowl of clean water for your ancestors to drink from.

3. Offer and Invite.
Light a candle. Speak their names, or simply say:

“Beloved ancestors of blood and spirit, those who are well, kind, and wise — I welcome you. May you be honored here. May your blessings flow through this family once more.”

Sit quietly. Notice what arises — sensations, images, memories, emotions. You may feel nothing at first; that’s okay. Relationship builds slowly, as with any friendship.

4. Tend the Relationship.
Offer fresh water or food regularly. Express gratitude. Ask for guidance when needed, and listen. Over time, you may notice subtle shifts — dreams becoming clearer, old patterns softening, a sense of protection surrounding you.

Person seated before a candlelit ancestral altar with black-and-white portraits, red candles, and autumn leaves, symbolizing remembrance and renewal at Samhain. — *Candles glow beside portraits of loved ones as she honors the season by remembering the well ancestors — the ones at peace who offer blessings, clarity, and strength to the living.*

Listening for the Well Ancestors

When we first turn toward our lineage, we may encounter mixed feelings — grief, anger, shame, longing. Many of us come from families shaped by trauma, migration, or disconnection. To reach for the ancestors can awaken those memories. But this is also where the healing begins.

Imagine your lineage as a river. Some stretches are clear and strong; others are dammed by unhealed wounds. The well and loving ancestors stand upstream, beyond those blockages, holding the wisdom of restoration. When you invite them, you are not bypassing the pain — you are asking for help to clear it. You are saying: I am willing to be part of the healing of this line.

Dr. Daniel Foor, in his foundational book Ancestral Medicine: Rituals of Healing and Relationship, emphasizes the importance of reaching out for our “well and loving ancestors” because they embody the healed, wise, and benevolent aspects of our lineage — those capable of supporting transformation without reactivating inherited pain. By invoking these well ancestors first, we create a field of safety and protection, allowing the blessings, creativity, and resilience of our lineage to flow freely again.

These ancestors can support you in deep spiritual and emotional work. They can strengthen your sense of belonging, help you feel less alone in times of uncertainty, and remind you of the larger story you are part of. In moments of doubt or despair, they whisper courage. When you work toward personal growth or reconciliation, they cheer from beyond the veil, knowing that each step you take ripples backward and forward in time.

Ancestral Healing as Inner Work

To honor the dead is also to honor the living parts of ourselves that carry their echoes. Within our bodies and psyches live ancestral patterns — not just of trauma, but of creativity, intuition, and endurance. By bringing awareness to these patterns, we can choose what to continue and what to transform.

Ancestral work is psychologically as well as spiritually beneficial. Emerging research in psychology suggests that ancestral awareness can enhance emotional regulation and intergenerational resilience (Dennison & Powell-Watts, 2021). Scholars in transpersonal and transcultural psychology note that ancestral remembrance practices can promote identity continuity, healing, and resilience (Choi et al., 2025).

Some people approach this through meditation or prayer; others through art, song, or ritual movement. You might write letters to your ancestors, telling them what has changed since their time. You might ask them what wisdom they wish you to embody. This dialogue can become a mirror for your own healing journey.

At its heart, ancestral work is relational. It’s not about worship or blind reverence, but about belonging — about remembering that we are part of a continuum of life. When we tend those relationships with respect, the ancestors in turn tend to us.

Rituals for the Season

Here are a few ways to honor your ancestors during Samhain and the dark months that follow:

A Place at the Table – Set an extra plate at dinner and serve a portion of the meal to the ancestors. Speak their names, or simply raise a glass in their honor.
A Night of Storytelling – Gather friends or family to share memories of those who have passed. Tell the old stories, even the painful ones. Every retelling keeps their essence alive.
Candlelight Vigil – Light candles for the departed and watch their gentle glow in the darkness. Imagine their love as the flame that continues to burn within you.
The Silent Walk – On Samhain night, take a walk beneath the moon. Feel the shift in the air, the nearness of the unseen. Offer a small token — a flower, a breath of gratitude — to the earth in their name.
Dreamwork – Before sleep, invite the ancestors to visit in ways that are safe and healing. Keep a journal beside your bed. Sometimes their messages come through symbols or sensations rather than words.

Why This Work Matters

In modern Western culture, death is often hidden, sanitized, or feared. We are taught to move on quickly, to grieve privately, to treat death as the opposite of life rather than its teacher. Reclaiming ancestral reverence restores a sense of continuity — a knowing that we belong to something vast and ongoing.

To honor the ancestors is to affirm that the story of humanity is not finished, and that we are part of its unfolding. Each act of remembrance — each candle lit, each prayer spoken — becomes a thread that reweaves the fabric of kinship across time. When we remember them, we are remembered in turn.

Our Western culture has pushed away or discredited most of the ways that we as human beings find meaning in our lives. The result is a disenchanted world that leaves us feeling empty. Ancestor veneration is a potent way towards imbuing this world with more magic and awe.

The Blessing of the Dark

Samhain invites us to embrace the dark not as something to fear but as fertile ground for transformation. In the stillness after the harvest, when the fields lie fallow, the soul turns inward to dream. The ancestors are the quiet companions of this season — guiding us toward rest, reflection, and renewal.

As you light your candles this Samhain, imagine the long line of those who stand behind you — the healers, the makers, the survivors, the dreamers. Imagine them encircling you in warmth and gratitude. You are their continuation, their hope, their living prayer.

May your altar glow.
May your dreams be blessed.
May your ancestors walk beside you in love.
And may this Samhain open the way for deep remembering.

Walking Between Worlds: Honoring Ancestors on Samhain