Give Thanks for the Beloved Dead
Hey bestie,
This ritual gives us a place to acknowledge something modern life is breathtakingly bad at acknowledging: people die, and our relationships with them do not simply vanish when they do.
Some of us have ancestors we love. Some of us have lineages fractured by violence, displacement, migration, trauma, estrangement or silence. Some of us know very little or nothing about the people who came before us. Some of our most beloved dead do not share our blood at all.
So this ritual does not require you to romanticize ancestry. You may call your ancestors. You may call your chosen dead. You may remember a friend, lover, teacher, artist, elder or animal companion (I always include my beloved kitty Momo who passed three years ago on my ancestor altar).
You are also not required to invite every dead relative simply because you share DNA! The spirit world can respect a guest list.
There are two people I already know I will be remembering when I do this rite: my Grampy and my Granny.
They have felt extra close to me lately. They both passed within weeks of each other in 2024. They visit my dreams often. There have been harder moments during more recent thresholds of my life when I have seen, with startling clarity, the image of Grampy taking one of my arms and Granny taking the other, smiling and walking me toward something I did not want to face and reminding me that I did not have to walk into it alone.
I don't need to prove whether those moments were scientifically real in order to know what they meant to me. Tomorrow night their photographs will be on my altar. Their names will be among the names I speak.
For me, this season also brings Hekate and Persephone close. Persephone, the goddess of the Underworld and Spring, reminds me that there are seasons underground. Hekate, goddess of magic, witchcraft, the restless dead, and psychopomp (a guide of souls) carries a torch. Not daylight, a torch. That' s just enough light to move through darkness without pretending it isn't dark, and the symbolism is intentional.
What You'll Need for Your Ritual
You will need one white or black candle, 3 is preferred but one is fine; a clear glass of fresh water; a photograph, meaningful object connected to your beloved dead, or a piece of paper with their name(s) written on it; and a small offering. Food is welcome. Water is enough. Wine or another alcoholic drink may also be offered if that belongs to your practice or is meaningful to the person you're honouring. I know Grampy liked a little liquor so I will give him some!
You will also need a small amount of plant material or incense appropriate to your practice. Mugwort, rosemary, juniper or another herb you work with can be beautiful. If sage belongs to your cultural practice, you may use it. Don't if it doesn't. If burning things is unsafe or unsuitable in your home, you can adapt this part of the ritual rather than filling your apartment with smoke in the name of spiritual authenticity. Ritual sprays, khernips, or perfume can work too.
If you have a drum, rattle or other instrument, bring it.
And bring your voice.
Preparing the Space and Calling the Elements
I like this ritual because we do not need four unrelated objects sitting around pretending not to know each other in order to call the elements.
The herb or incense begins as Earth.
When you light it, there is Fire.
The smoke rising from it becomes Air.
Beside it is your clear glass of Water.
Earth becomes Fire and Air before our eyes, with Water beside it. The elements are not simply decorations on the altar. They are moving through the rite together.
Light the plant material and let the smoke rise (or spray the spray/perfume/khernips). Feel your feet against the ground beneath you. Place your attention on the glass of water.
Then call the elements in whatever language belongs naturally to your practice, or say:
Spirits of Earth, Water, Fire and Air,
be welcome here.
Hold this space in right relationship.
Let what enters here enter in love.
The Descent
Temple Soundtrack: Listen to the Temple Soundtrack on Spotify
Begin with Deep Into the Earth I Go.
If you have a drum, drum. Sing.
You do not have to sound beautiful. You are not performing. Let rhythm move through the room and let your voice make the ritual physical.
When the song ends, light your ancestor candle.
Calling the Beloved Dead
Tonight we are not attempting to heal every ancestral wound or invite every person in our lineage into the room. That is different work for a different night.
Tonight we are calling the beloved dead.
Say:
I call to the beloved dead of blood and spirit who lived and died well, who come in love, who hold my highest good as their intention, and who wish only good for me and for this home.
You who loved me.
You who love me still.
You who stand in right relationship with me.
You are welcome here.
All others may pass by this door.
You are not invited into this rite.
Then speak the names of the people, animals and chosen ancestors you wish to remember.
After every name, say:
You are remembered here.
For those whose names have been lost, you might say:
To those whose names I do not know, who lived and died well and whose lives made mine possible: you are remembered here.
For chosen ancestors:
To those who shaped me without sharing my blood: you are remembered here.
And for beloved animals, absolutely say their names too.
Feeding the Dead
Place your offering on the altar and leave the glass of fresh water beside it.
Then stop.
You don't need a guided meditation or spiritual homework. Sit with your dead. Tell stories. Cry. Laugh. Be quiet. Speak to them if you speak to your dead. How do you speak to the dead? Start with how you would speak to the living.
There is no requirement to receive a message, feel a presence or experience anything supernatural for this ritual to be meaningful.
When you are ready to begin turning back toward the living, play We Are the Flow, We Are the Ebb.
Sing it. Drum it if you can. Let the song carry you back toward the lineage of living witches, the people who came before us, and the people who will come after.
The ritual is what you do. The blessing is what we offer to the dead and receive ourselves. Read this aloud before closing the rite.
A Blessing for the Beloved Dead, and for Those Who Must Go On Living
Beloved,
Bless the dead who are loved, and bless the dead who were complicated. Bless the names remembered and the names erased by time. Bless those whose blood lives in us and those whose love made them kin.
Bless the animals whose paws once crossed our floors and whose absence still has shape. Bless those who descended before us, and bless those of us who remain aboveground carrying their absence.
May remembrance never require us to lie about the dead. May the ancestors who wish us well stand behind us, and may those who cannot love us well remain at peace and at a distance.
May grief be allowed to remain evidence of relationship. May Hekate's torch burn at the threshold. May Persephone remind us that descent has its season.
May the dead be fed.
May the living be fed.
May we honour the dead without following them before our time. May we remember them. May we bless them. May we release them.
And when morning comes, may we choose life again.
Closing the Rite
Thank your beloved dead and say:
Beloved dead, thank you for sitting with me.
Take what is yours in peace.
Leave what is mine with me.
Return now to where you belong.
The rite is ended.
The door is closed.
Go in peace, and let me remain in peace.
Extinguish the candle, but leave the offering and the clear glass of water on your altar overnight.
Then eat something yourself. Drink water. Wash your hands. Touch the floor. Touch your own arms and face. Come all the way back into your body.
The next morning, look at the glass of water before you dispose of it. In my own lineage and practice, bubbles appearing in ancestor water are sometimes understood as a sign that spirits were present or visited during the night. A little hello.
I offer that as a teaching from my own practice, not as something you are required to believe or experience. No bubbles does not mean nobody loves you.
Thank your dead again. Dispose of the offering respectfully and safely, and empty the water.
And remember: somewhere else last night, another candle was burning.
With love across the threshold,
Sierra
From The Book of Blessings by Sierra Jamerson · Temple of Sound
Free spells, blessings, rituals and letters: templeofsound.co/the-temple-letters
P.S. If you perform this ritual, I would love to see your hearth. Reply with a photograph of your altar, candle or offering if it feels right, and tell me who you remembered if you want to.
If you're comfortable with me sharing your photograph with the Temple community afterward, tell me explicitly that I have permission to share it. Otherwise, what you send me stays with me.
P.P.S. Sometimes ancestor work, grief and major thresholds open doors we don't necessarily want to walk through alone. If this ritual brings something to the surface and you want more individual support, you can reply to me directly or read about my private work here: