For the past two years, I’ve offered a death ritual I created with Sayre, every Friday. Every Friday for two years, I’ve sent the virtual link to others who will come to do their own work with the dead in this ritual. I’ve gone out to my sacred area outside and invited the dead, the spirits, the fae, and told them they are welcome here on this night, and welcome to support this work. The intention is: We gather together, in the web of the living, to honor death in the world; and to facilitate a space where the unsettled dead can meet with ancestral guides, and move toward the next phase of their journey.
I think Sayre and I wrote this ritual by instinct, by putting ourselves in the place of those who have died and can’t find their way. The ritual was written by the living – what we the living are, what we’re working for in this ritual, with protections and affirmations in it that keep us anchored to the side of the living. It’s unfolded for two years, and here is what I know now that I didn’t know when we designed it.
I am alive, and my living presence is part of what helps the dead understand that they are dead. For myself, I wanted to do this ritual because I had a beloved who was intubated, some years ago. He said it was like a bad acid trip. He was partly conscious, partly not, he thought at times he must be losing his mind. I imagined what it must be like for those who died intubated to be so confused. I imagined they might not know where to go, how to transition.
I also imagined them dying alone – unhonored, unloved. The ritual offers them, and others of the unsettled dead, love and honor.
I am alive – I have realized that, for them, I am just a contrast. They come. They look at me and think – something’s wrong, something’s changed – I was that, and I’m not that any longer. What am I, then? In the ritual, we invite Earth to come and we ask Earth to take the bodies of the dead, to help them surrender their bodies to a loving presence. We invite the settled dead to come – whoever they might be – to offer to help the unsettled dead find their way. In my own experience of this work, the fae commune with some of the dead to connect with the human connection to the land. The fae tell me they need that – it was something I hadn’t anticipated when we first wrote this ritual, but one night, calling the dead, I looked up and the fae were just there, and they’ve come every Friday since.
Very little of this ritual has to do with those of us who are living. We just kind of call in the pieces. Once the settled dead arrive, they know what to do, and we, the living, step back so they can do it.
My ancestors come. My aunt Bonnie Bea, who died at nine years old, comes. She was unable to be my ally in life, but she is in death. My brother comes. He is still healing; seeing him there helps heal me. My grandparents, my father, my uncle whom I never knew – they come. Those I didn’t know, I can know now. Those I knew, I take such joy in seeing again.
And my ancestors from so far back. They come across the badlands, they gather at my back. Their support continues to unfold for me, in this ritual as elsewhere.
Many of the unsettled dead cross. They see someone they loved, a family member or a pet, and they have something to move toward, and they move toward it. Some choose not to cross, at least not on this night. They and their choices are honored as well.
We the living sing, we drum, someone plays a harp. In a silent, separate space, each of us does whatever we are called to do to support the dead crossing. Sometimes I drum. Sometimes I join the fae and take the memories of the land that the dead hold. Sometimes I sing to the dead. On nights when I need to honor that I’m 70 and may be empty of energy, I am just still.
And they cross, and I am aware – they are no longer alive. But I am. I will tell you, the hardest part of this ritual, for me, is returning when it is over. I remind myself: they need me to be alive, to be committed to the living world. So, sometimes reluctantly, at the end I ground back on to this side of the veil and remind myself and those who have come: We are alive, as the earth is alive. And life is precious. Life is ours. Breathe in the breath of life, a life-affirming breath –
It is Friday evening, now. In a bit, I’ll go into the wild outside and invite the dead to come, and also invite those who choose to come and support – the living, the fae, the earth spirits, the ancestors. My own living self. I’ll anoint with vetiver. I’ll ready a candle to light the way for the dead. I will honor them, and the living who join this ritual, and the ancestors. Thirty minutes – every Friday for two years. I am a witch, and for me, this is work I am honored to do.
My deep appreciation and love to those who have joined in this work, devotedly, for two years. I suspect what you find in it is and is not what I have found, and in that lies the magic.
If you are interested in attending this ritual you would be most welcome. It is come and go – attend once, or more often, whenever it is right for you, at 7:30 CT each Friday. Message me with your email and I’ll add you to the link distribution list.
