Death as Creation: A Series on Grief, Part II

“Without acknowledging death, we forget how to embrace the depths. Without acknowledging the grief that exists, we can’t expand into joy’s great spaces.” -Chani Nicholas 

Today is Halloween, or Samhain, the version I’ve begun to celebrate the past few years. You have, I’m sure, heard that “the veil is thin,” but I’ll say it again. This means we are the closest to the spirit world that we will be all year. They want to communicate with us, help us, send us love and messages—and it is easiest for us and for them here and now. There is no need to be afraid, though so often our suffocated Western culture makes us so. Communion with those that passed is natural and necessary in other cultures across the world. Unfortunately, we have no room for grief here. The United States seems to have no capacity to hold space for deep, Earth-shattering emotions. And that has to change with us. 

This Samhain is heightened by the energy of this Halloween Taurus Blue Full Moon (love a moon with hella adjectives). I feel the mania, the surge of creativity, the need to be all places at once. The kind of excitement that almost feels like anxiety; a shaking in my bones. 

Normally a Taurus Moon ground, but this one cannot possibly contain the energy that surrounds it. La luna also conjuncts Uranus—just adding an extra splash of chaos and rebellion to the witches’ brew. This is met, of course, with the Mars and Mercury retrograde we’ve been experiencing, adding their extra doses of unexpected anger and organization disruption (or if you’re like me, flat tires and lost wallets and so many heavy conversations). 

Stir the pot with sprinkles of Scorpio season and we have a penetrating and powerful Samhain. I’ve never felt the energy of the spirit world so strongly as I do this year—this pull towards my ancestors and those I have lost. Though I’ve attempted to “access” them before, I can feel them now attempting to find me. Begging me to listen. To feel them. To honor them. Our beliefs change and thicken with time. Mine have; mine are. 

Chani said it best in her newsletter this morning: “Without acknowledging death, we forget how to embrace the depths. Without acknowledging the grief that exists, we can’t expand into joy’s great spaces.” 

This has been my experience day in and day out lately—disruptingly so. When I pray and meditate and ask what is keeping me from being most free, it is my grief. It’s not fully experiencing the depths of the sadness that I’ve endured from so much loss in my life. As a recovering alcoholic, my timelines are marked with the quick passings of friends and loved ones—so many I would have to include a list here, and check it twice, knowing I probably forgot someone. 

My first death came at 15. I still don’t see how I survived it. Her name was Sarah, and she was my best friend. My everything. Losing her was truly a sign of what was to be my life—tragedy on top of tragedy. A Shakespearean sonnet of loss and mourning. And yet, I have made it out alive. It is up to me to honor their lives, to live for them. In fact, they’ve told me so. 

Sometimes it feels like a heavy burden to carry. Surely, I sound dramatic in the paragraph above, but I don’t mean to be. It’s what is so. Some part of me has chosen it. And it doesn’t feel so much like a burden… Or maybe, it just feels like mine. It is an exchange I’m willing to uphold, having known and loved so many incredible, passionate souls on our Earth. 

Our beliefs change and thicken with time. Mine have; mine are. 

Today, I am both grateful and grieving. And I hope you will take a moment to acknowledge anyone (perhaps, any part of yourself) you have lost, knowing that they are still with you, here and now and always. 

Blessed Samhain. 

RITUAL FOR YOU

Build an alter. To honor your ancestors and those passed, collect photos and any objects you have that remind you of them and your ancestry. Perhaps, you have their ashes. Articles of clothing. Letters they left you. Arrange the objects how you’d like. It’s also important to include the elements on an alter. Some version of fire, water, air, earth, and Spirit. I often include candles (fire), feathers (air), sound bowls or music (air), crystals or rocks (earth), flowers or plants (earth), and bowls of water. 

Please include anything that calls to you. It doesn’t have to make sense and it doesn’t have to follow any real guidelines. This is yours, for honoring your loved ones or any aspects of self/life that has been lost. 

Mine includes: photos, a bowl of water with my ex-boyfriend’s ashes, my cousin’s ashes, a candle I created in the intention of “receiving,” my friend Ty’s shaw, skull candles, a letter, el muerte loteria card, a flower bundle I created, a Native American necklace, and a feather. 

Take a moment to meditate or pray at your alter. Last night, Vito and I said a prayer to our ancestors and those we have lost, letting them know we love them and we feel them and we are open and willing to listen to any messages they have for us or direction they would like to show us. 

I also add protection prayers/spells: Please show us your messages with grace and ease. You may depict these messages in the physical world, but please don’t scare us or our children. Please only show us what we would truly understand. 

We used a Mugwort Glycerite (from here) before sleeping to enhance our dreams, and will be thoroughly tracking them the next few days. 

It can be as simple or as complex as you’d like it to be. Please, make it your own.