Frigga Asraaf 2026
Subfield ‘Ancestors who were disabled’
Our experience with an LGBTQIA+ ancestral subfield led us to wonder whether the wider collective ancestral field might contain other subfields of this kind. For instance, subfields that have formed around shared experiences of marginalisation. It appears that they do exist, and some feel closer than others.
We asked the LGBTQIA+ ancestors with whom we have built an ongoing relationship to explore this. After all, they have experienced that working together with people who approach them with restraint and respect can be safe and healing: people who listen to what is needed rather than assuming they know what would be best for others. As far as we are concerned, the principle of ‘Nothing about us, without us’ applies to ancestral spirits as well.
So we do not simply enter such a subfield uninvited. Instead, we first ask whether the ancestral spirits are willing to make contact with us. We then listen to what the field’s needs may be. Time will tell whether this develops into a collaboration that may strengthen both them and us.
Language
Language is constantly evolving. The Dutch spoken today sounds very different from the Dutch of a century ago. Some words have fallen out of use, while others have emerged. It is worth bearing this in mind when communicating with ancestral spirits. They view us through the lens of their own time, just as we look back on the past through the lens of ours, in both language and experience.
We speak of the collective ancestral field and of subfields within it. This is simply how we experience it and how we describe it. One of the subfields discussed here is what we refer to as a subfield of ancestral spirits who were disabled.
We use the term people with disabilities. For us, it reflects the diversity and complexity of everyday life, recognising both the limitations a person may experience and the barriers created by society. Disabilities may be physical, sensory, intellectual or psychosocial in nature, or involve a combination of these.
We do not assume that every ancestor within a particular subfield feels a sense of belonging, recognition, or identification with it. They may not relate to what we now would describe as a disability—cultural context, for instance, could have played a significant role in shaping their experience.
Especially during an introductory ritual, it is impossible to know in advance what will unfold. There are usually so many impressions that afterwards they can be difficult to put into words. The ancestors of the group we were in contact with on this occasion remained in the background. They chose to stay behind the LGBTQIA+ ancestral ally spirits. It felt as though they were taking stock, quietly observing. There was no desire, at least not yet, for conversation or any other form of exchange. We hope that a future meeting will give us a clearer sense of this group’s needs.
What is clear to us, however, is that we are not necessarily seeking out ancestors who were traumatised and/or marginalised. Rather, we seek ancestors who recognise themselves in what we describe, regardless of how they themselves experienced it during their lifetime on earth. Recognition can create connection. The living and ancestral spirits can work together to make our community more visible and to offer one another support.
Invocation
We generally keep our rituals simple. A long white wooden board is placed on the table, serving as a temporary altar.
During our introductory ritual with LGBTQIA+ ancestral spirits, we gave our word that we would name them in our rituals. We made the same promise to this group. This led to the following invocation:
Hail to Mother Earth!
The planet we live on
and the world we live in
are one deep,
interconnected web of life.
Hail to landwights!
Hail to waterwights!
Hear us, gunthan and spirits
wishing us well!
Hail forebears fair!
Hail to LGBTQIA+ ancestors!
Hail to neurodivergent ancestors!
Hail to ancestors with disabilities!
Hail to ancestors of colour!
Hail to First Nations ancestors!
In naming these ancestors
we seek to honour
all who have lived,
and all who live,
under marginalisation.
Hear us, allies from all worlds!
This invocation expresses how we see ourselves: as people who are part of something larger, the inclusive community of the Earth. By naming Mother Earth, we acknowledge and honour her, along with all those to whom we are connected: the flora and fauna, the spirits of the land, and others. We call upon gods and spirits alike.
Our invocation then names a number of different communities in order to honour both the ancestral spirits and the people who belong to them. At the same time, we are aware that such a list can never be complete. That is why it concludes with: In naming these ancestors we seek to honour all who have lived, and all who live, under marginalisation.
Finally, we call upon allies from all worlds. After all, allies exist in every realm. Allyship begins with listening and with respecting the principle, ‘Nothing about us, without us.’ An ally listens to what is needed and uses whatever opportunities or privileges they have, such as white privilege, to help foster recognition, safety and change.
When we meet one another with respect, and are willing to learn from, support and comfort one another, we can work together to contribute to recognition, healing and a more inclusive community on Earth.