A ceremony, a discussion, a possession. Acting as their hands, I carry out the instinctual paths of my ancestral spirits. The Ibbur heals and cleanses their vessel (and me) with the water that holds it. The Dybbuk slowly destroys their vessel with the fire they feed. The ritual is a healing process for the spirits themselves: the waters and care of the Ibbur tames the fires of the Dybbuk - they mutually sustain their never ending goals to find closure within intergenerational trauma. I mourn them and celebrate their wisdom as their host.