A young man came to me a few years ago, shy and uncertain, and told me he thought he might be called to this work. He could barely get the words out. He was afraid I would laugh at him or tell him he wasn’t worthy. Instead, I asked him one question: “Do you love the ancestors?” He looked at me, surprised, and said yes. And that was enough. We began his training the very next week. Watching him grow—watching him find his voice, his confidence, his own connection to the spirit world—has been one of the greatest joys of my life.
I think about my own elders often, the ones who took a chance on me when I was young and unsure. They didn’t hoard their knowledge or make me feel small. They poured themselves out generously, and they trusted that the tradition would continue through me. That’s what I try to do now. I don’t want to be the last of anything. I want to be a link in a chain that stretches far into the future, long after my voice has gone quiet. Every time I teach a young person, I feel my ancestors smiling. They’re not worried about the future. They know the flame will keep burning.
Leaving a Spiritual Legacy, Passing the Torch to the Next Generation
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