In life we will all - at various moments - be confronted with the death of a loved one, and eventually will have to also stare our own mortality in the face too.
The issue of death is often a thorny one. It’s a subject few of us enjoy discussing, dealing with, having to face or even think about, but as with all great stories, there is always a beginning, a middle, and ultimately, an end.
As many of you will know, my own family have had to deal with the death of a much loved family member who at just 28, her passing came far too soon and without warning.
I’ve thought long and hard about writing this, as thoughts of Katie swirl around my mind, and the waves of grief wash over me.
I’ve found myself hesitating and questioning my own judgment, as I also try to help my daughter, Rosie, Katie’s younger sister, to navigate her own grief.
When faced with these moments, it can send our nervous system into overdrive. We often shut down our normal daily routines, our functioning becomes more chaotic and we can question our own judgment. It also forces us to contemplate the very nature of death itself.
We question, why this person was taken?
Why now?
We feel it’s unfair, and there may be feelings of guilt for the time we didn’t spend with them, for words we did or didn’t say, and we feel a profound sense of loss that is like no other feeling we ever experience.
The thing about death though is that we tend to look at it from the perspective of physicality.
We wish they could hear our words again, we long for one last touch, we beg to talk to them again and we beat ourselves up and become frustrated that we can’t.
But it is my view that we have it all wrong...
In my own dealings with death - within my personal life as well as from working with Spirit - I’ve come to understand that death is not the end.
Far from it.
We are not a body with a soul - we are a soul housed inside a body.
We are pure energy, spirit or soul - whatever you wish to call it - housed in a physical shell kitted out with a multitude of sophisticated senses, nerve endings, electrical impulses and intricate functions.
But as physics tells us, energy can neither be created, nor destroyed, only changed.
This means that when the time comes for us to leave our physical worldly housing, we are not gone, we aren’t destroyed or sent into oblivion, but instead our energy merely changes form, combines with the vast ocean of universal energies and continues its journey onward.
There are some advantages to this transition for the person who has passed.
As they are no longer constrained by the limitations of a physical form - or face the burden of senses, pain receptors and nerve endings - it means they are incapable of feeling pain, they can’t feel suffering, and they can’t feel the things that made them afraid while in the physical world.
They are bathed in waves of peace, which washes over them like cool, refreshing water, cleansing their energy of all of the muck and torment of their earthly form.
What we do maintain upon our transition from this life to the next though is the energy we gave.
The spark of life, the love, the humour, that “thing” that we are drawn to in people when we walk into a room, but we can’t explain why we’re drawn to it... all of that stays with our energy.
This means that the energy of the loved one - while they can’t physically interact with us, at least not as they once did - can feel every thought and every ounce of love we have for them.
They have no ears to hear, no, but they feel the vibrational energies of our words, they connect with the warmth and affection we hold them in, and they resonate with the beating of our heart.
You see we all have roots, and our roots run deep.
Just as the roots of a tree, they connect us to both the physical earth, and the canopy of the astral realm. Those roots anchor us in place and keep our loved ones energies flowing within us.
Real physical trees can also play an important role in our own processing of grief and aid our healing.
The Yew tree, for example, has ancient associations with death and at the same time, eternity. It’s a tree of death and rebirth and the infinite cycle of life.
To utilise the healing powers of the yew, we can sit beneath it, and reflect on the cycle of life, and the fact that death really is not the end.
Cypress trees are also deeply rooted in the symbology of life and death. They symbolise immortality and the afterlife.
Their tall and absolute verticality sees them reaching upwards to the heavens, as they help transport the soul to the next phase of existence. The cypress is the tree of mourning and so provides a place for quiet contemplation to sit with our thoughts and grief.
The Weeping Willow, as it’s name alludes to, is all about the processing of our loss and the expressing of our emotions. It’s a powerful symbol of death and the transition of the soul. It’s comforting arms stretch out and down to provide a welcome embrace as if the tree itself is hugging us and sharing in our grief.
Sitting beneath a weeping willow to express our emotions, process our loss and allow ourselves to cry and grieve, is a hugely powerful way of harnessing the healing and supportive energies of the tree, whilst the tree provides us with a sense of dignity and privacy as it’s branches seem to draw closed in their protective embrace.
Grieving a loss is always a process and one which there are no right or wrong answers in dealing with. We must allow ourselves to go through it and take the time we need.
We all grieve differently and only we can know what’s best for us.
However you choose to grieve a loss, ensure to always be kind to yourself. Grief is a huge disruption of energy, and as such, we need to do all we can to heal and process it.
Treat yourself with compassion and take the time you need, and remember that your roots go deep and your loved one feels you always.
For more musings, why not join our Facebook group Beneath the Canopy?
Or you can listen to our in-depth discussion on 'The Crows' Nest' about this topic - 'Coping with Grief the Magick Way' - here.