How I discovered The Blood Soul

How I discovered The Blood Soul

When I first began to reach for my mother after her death, I didn’t know I was reaching for what
I now call the blood soul.
I was seven years old,
and all I knew was that I wanted her, I needed her, 
and I would talk to her in what I believed was heaven.

Later, with a bit of practice, I would imagine my grandmother, my great-grandmother,
and the faces in old photographs I found and kept hidden under my bed.
I didn’t understand it then, but what I was really doing was trying to connect to
my ancestral source --  my blood soul.

Because my mother died when I was so young,
I didn’t have her family to fall back on.
My connection to my maternal lineage was cut off, and I grew up not knowing my heritage,
not knowing the stories or the people who shaped her before me.
That left me with an emptiness,a longing,and a deep confusion.

I didn’t know I was seeking out my blood soul --  I only knew I was desperate for connection.

I clung to any smile, any kindness, any person who would see me.
I opened myself to energies and situations I shouldn’t have,
because I was starving for recognition and belonging.

Years later, when I began working as a massage therapist 
and then expanded into the study of energy work --
Chios, Reiki, therapeutic touch, craniosacral therapy, and many other modalities --
and when my mediumship began to unfold, I found myself circling back to that same longing.

And then I came across the framework of the three souls:
the blood soul, the bone soul, and the star soul.

These teachings exist in many cultures, each with its own language,
but the pattern is remarkably similar — we are more than one soul.

When I read about the blood soul, something inside me clicked.
It gave language to what I had been reaching for all my life.
The blood soul — sometimes called the lower soul or the lower self -- 
is the part of us rooted in our ancestry and our body.
It connects us to our DNA and family line,
to the wisdom and trauma carried in our blood,
to our instinctual and animal nature.
It is the part of us that knows joy, laughter, dance, movement, play, and survival.
It ties us to the land, to the spirits of place,
and to the deep emotional currents that flow beneath thought and logic. 

This blood soul includes our blood ancestors --
parents, grandparents, great-grandparents,
and all those stretching back into primordial time. 

But it also includes what I call our ancestors of nurture:  
those who may not be tied to us by blood,
but who raised us, nourished us, and shaped us.

They might be adoptive parents, neighbors, mentors, friends, or teachers.
They are the ones who fed us when we were hungry,
who treated us like family, who gave us the nourishment our bloodlines could not.

Their love and presence live in the blood soul, too,
because nurture is as vital a thread of ancestry as DNA.

Because my mother and I both carried A negative blood, I clung to that as proof of our bond.
No one on my father’s side shared that Rh-negative factor,
and as a child, I sometimes wondered if I truly belonged to that family at all.
They did not honor her memory.
They did not speak her name.
Slowly, her story was erased in what I can only assume was their way of coping.
I will never know why.
But the A negative blood flowing in me was undeniable evidence that I was her daughter,
no matter what anyone else wanted me to believe.
It was a thread of belonging I could hold onto
when everything else was stripped away.

Years later, in my early thirties, I met my best friend Stacy.
We became fast friends instantly,
standing side by side at the elementary school
as we watched our children walk inside.
We discovered that she, too, had A negative blood.
And I realized that if I ever needed a transfusion,
it would be her blood flowing into me — not my family’s.
In that moment, she became more than a friend.
She became an ancestor of nurture, proof that the blood soul is not only about DNA,
but also about the ways people enter our lives and become family of the spirit.

Through Stacy, I learned that nurture also flows in the blood soul.
It is carried in the friends who become kin,
in the chosen family who feeds us, comforts us, and stands beside us when no one else will.
They, too, are part of the river.
They become our allies, our saints, our adopted kin.
The blood soul weaves them into us
as surely as it does our great-grandparents, our healers,
our midwives, our keepers of memory.

Connecting with the blood soul does not have to be complicated.
It begins in silence, in spaciousness, in stillness.
Sit, breathe, and imagine your blood flowing through your veins
like a slow, steady river.
Imagine that river carrying not only life, but memory --
the voices of your ancestors moving with it.
Ask them to come forward.
You may not hear clear answers at first.
You may only feel a brush of wind,
a flicker of image, a single word.

Write it down.
Honor it.

Ask your blood soul for a message,
and then give thanks,
even if it felt like nothing happened.

Relationship is built through presence and repetition.
With time, that river will carry you into communion with your ancestors of blood and nurture,
and you will know their wisdom.

Now, at fifty-nine, I look back on that little girl and I see her not with pity,but with compassion.

Her confusion became my doorway.

Her grief became my teacher.

I am no longer just the daughter who lost her mother --
I am the woman who has lived through the aching emptiness of not knowing,
and who has discovered, through the blood soul, that I was never truly alone.

Because of this understanding, I became more than my wounds.

The blood soul gave me back a sense of belonging,
even when my family could not.
It taught me that I carry the wisdom of generations in my very veins.
It showed me that my mother’s love did not vanish with her death --
it flows in me still, and always will.
The blood soul turned my searching into knowing,
my silence into listening,
my longing into connection.

Today, I stand as an elder, a crone,
rooted in the understanding that grief and love are not opposites but companions.

My blood soul has taught me that my life is not only my own story,
but also the continuation of every story before me.
It has given me the strength to guide others,
to help them hear their own soul cries,
to remind them that they too are carried by rivers of wisdom and resilience.

And so I tell you this:
your blood soul is not just your past.
It is your vitality, your will, your spark.
It is the river that carries your ancestors,
the laughter of your inner child,
the pulse that reminds you that you are never truly alone.

To listen to your blood soul is to listen to life itself.
And in that listening, we discover that even in death,
love does not end.
It flows on, endlessly, within us.
Give it a try--

I've created a short, guided practice to help you connect to your blood soul-

Meeting Your Blood Soul

Take a moment to find a quiet space.
Sit comfortably, let your body relax, and close your eyes.
Breathe deeply, in and out, until your breath begins to settle.
Now, bring your awareness to your blood.
Imagine it flowing through your veins like a slow, steady river.
With each heartbeat, feel that river carrying not only life, but memory --
the voices of your ancestors moving with it.
Follow that river as it winds through you.
Imagine it carrying you back through time --
to your parents, your grandparents, your great-grandparents,
and all those who came before.
See it reaching back further still,
into the deep currents of human history,
until you feel yourself resting in the collective river of your blood soul.
Here, invite your ancestors of blood and nurture to come forward.
You may not see them clearly.
You may only sense a presence, feel a brush of air,
or hear a single word.
Whatever comes, welcome it.
Ask your blood soul: “What message do you have for me today?”
Sit with what arises.
Write it down if you can.
And when you are ready, give thanks --
for the blood, for the river,
for the ancestors who continue to flow within you.
Tell them, “I will see you soon.”
And know that you can return to this place at any time,
with only a few breaths and an open heart.

Thank you for reading my blog.
It is my hope that these words have touched something within you,
whether it’s a memory, a longing, or simply the reminder that you are never truly alone.
If you ever feel called to go deeper --
through a reading, a session, or guidance on your own soul journey --
I would be honored to walk with you.
You can learn more about my services and reach me anytime at:
www.EnergyTouchIntuition.com
With gratitude,
Jennifer