About eight weeks ago my family suffered an unexpected and devastating loss. I'm not ready to get into the details. The truth is, I probably never will be. The feelings are too raw, like a sunburn doused in vodka then set on fire with a blowtorch. It was so unexpected that I still find myself wondering how it happened so quickly. Grief is a funny thing. It can warp your mind, making you question every trivial detail, every fragment of clouded memory. Why didn't I see any symptoms? How could he have been normal one moment and gone a few days later? Did he know I loved him? Could I have done something differently?
The part I initially struggled with most was the anger. For several weeks I was angry with everything. With myself. With life. With the universe. He was taken care of. He was loved. So why was he taken from me?
I understand this isn't rational. But that's the thing about grief. It is never rational. How can it be? Such a torturous emotion, a jumbled chaotic mix of guilt and agonizing sadness and betrayal and feeling like nothing will ever be whole again.
When I was in college, we learned about the Kubler-Ross model of grief. The five stages being: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I distinctly remember one student asking, "How do you know when it's done?" Being a very open classroom, I responded with, "When you put down the Haagen Dazs and get off the couch."
I find myself thinking of Kubler-Ross a lot lately, mostly because I resent her five stages. There is nothing linear about grief. Something that intangible and crippling does not happen in a neat, orderly fashion. Some moments you feel okay and you can make peace with the unchangeable. Others you are sobbing—depressed or angry. Probably a little of both.
But you know what phase Kubler-Ross overlooked? Exhaustion.
I have cried every day since I lost a vital piece of my life. A piece of myself, really. Every day. Some days are a few tears, even happy tears at a silly memory. Some days are worse, and I find myself struggling through simple tasks.
Exhaustion is the stage I'm currently struggling with. Yes, I'm sad. Yes, I'm depressed. But you know what else I am? I'm tired of being both of those. Grief won't bring him back. My length of mourning does not denote how deeply I loved him. If it did, I'd never be happy again. Nor would anyone who has ever lost someone they loved. So the whole world would be one miserable $@!& storm of sad, mournful people. Sounds pleasant, hm?
I told you I was in a dark place.
So what does a person do when they've hit a point in their grief where they are rundown and tired? After all, our loved ones wouldn't want us to be miserable. It's a cliche expression, but it's cliche because it's true. And that miasma of dark emotion leaves us closed to their energies, their messages, their signs. It's the reason I most wish to process through this torturous stage of mourning—so that I can experience him once again in his new form. You see, I believe we are all part of a bigger energy. Every tree, every animal, every person—everything natural—is comprised of the same universal energy. Therefore, he is not gone. He's different, but he exists beside me. In another realm. In another form. But with me nonetheless. And yet my emotions are so tangled, my heart so heavy with sorrow, I feel closed off to him.
Okay, Michaela. Get to your point. What is a heartbroken person to do?
Magick.
When in doubt, always turn to magick.
Now, you (we, me) have to be realistic here. An herbal sachet isn't going to have you waking up tomorrow, clicking your heels, ready for a new day. Grief is real. It's not a bad hair day. It won't go away after a massage and a smoothie. But an herbal sachet infused with magick can help you subconsciously process painful, suffocating emotions while you sleep, thus helping you heal. The most important aspect of grief is that you CANNOT avoid it. It has to happen. Yes, there will be moments when the pain is too unbearable and distraction is healthy. But in the big picture guilt must be processed. It's a passive process, one in which you are basically unwillingly along for the ride, but complete suppression will only make it worse. Trust me when I tell you this, because I've learned the hard way. Emotions can't be avoided when it's something that must be processed. The rude cashier at the grocery store is something that can be brushed off. The ending of a relationship (through separation or death) is something your soul needs to process in order to heal.
But there are ways we can support and encourage the process, and today I will show you the way I've chosen.
While I did use homeopathic remedies for the initial trauma of loss, I now find myself searching for something to help me process grief while I sleep. As I'm sure you know, sleep is where we work out our most difficult emotions, thus many people suffer with insomnia or vivid dreams following a death. This is where magick and herbs step in. Below you'll find my spell for a Grief and Loss Healing Sachet. And while I hope you'll never need it, it's unlikely you will get through life without experiencing the agony of loss.
...Unless you're a sociopath. I've met a few in my time. Trust me, they're not nearly as fun as the movies make them out to be.
Grief and Loss Healing Sachet
Sage:
Used for cleansing and purification. Aids in alleviating grief and sorrow.
Lavender:
Promotes sleep and convalescence. Invokes peace and helps battle depression.
***Sandalwood:
Promotes relaxation and heightens spiritual energy. Invokes passed souls
Marjoram:
Eases grief. Helps to restore happiness.
Garnet Gemstone:
Balances energy and raises emotions to a higher vibration. Attracts happiness and purification. Aligns spiritual and physical self.
Rose Quartz:
Aids in the processing of grief and anger. Eases pain through detoxification. Protects against nightmares (common after loss).
As always, if you don't have all of these ingredients, experiment. See what speaks to you and what feels comforting. When grieving, comfort is the main objective.
***When sandalwood is combined with frankincense and burned as an incense, it raises energetic vibrations and makes it easier for us to connect with spirit guides/enlightened spirits. I suggest burning some while you energize your sachet.
***When sandalwood is combined with frankincense and burned as an incense, it raises energetic vibrations and makes it easier for us to connect with spirit guides/enlightened spirits. I suggest burning some while you energize your sachet.
Charging the sachet
Gather your materials and sit in a quiet place where you feel comfortable. You can do this during the day or night. Whenever feels best to you.
Take a few deep breaths and try to find a place of peace. Take a pinch of each item and place it in the sachet. If you don't have a small bag, you can use a clean sock.
As you deposit each item, picture happy memories with your loved one. Remember good times you had together. If a negative thought pops up, especially one where they may have been sick or suffering, acknowledge the thought but quickly replace it with a good memory. A helpful tactic when grieving is to immediately think of a good memory whenever a bad one arises. This helps take the power away from those difficult thoughts and actually redefines the neuropathway connecting a specific thought to an emotion.
Once all items are in your sachet, tie it with a piece of ribbon or string and hold it between both hands. Close your eyes and picture your loved one standing happy and healthy before you. Don't be surprised if you get chills, feel as if you're being touched, or sense they are in the room. They are! Our grief is painful for them to watch. They are in a state of pure bliss, and they don't want us to suffer on their behalf!
As you hold the sachet, say:
In this time of darkness, please bring me back to light.
Ease the sorrow and the burden, during these harrowing nights.
*Loved one's name*'s time here is done, for with life is given death.
Keep with me the beautiful memories,
Goddess, please alleviate the rest.
For only the Goddess is eternal, even the sun must disappear.
Gone from body but never from heart, *Loved one's name* is always near.
Place the sachet under your pillow or tack it over your head and sleep with it until you feel healed from the trauma of loss. And remember, healing does not mean you're okay with a loved one being gone from this realm. Or that you've "moved on" or no longer care. Don't feel guilty for trying to heal and recover. Healing simply means you're in the spiritual place where you can accept that the beautiful journey of life is concluded by death, and you've come to a place of peace and acceptance knowing your loved one's path on this plane has concluded. Healing by no means lessens your love for that spirit.
One last thing before I go, please remember that love is love and grief is pain. I once worked for a veterinarian who would complain if a staff member took the rest of the day off after putting a pet to sleep, each time mentioning that he was in work the day after his mother died. While I could spend many hours writing about how his lack of empathy disturbs me, especially from a veterinarian (??), I mention this troubling anecdote only to demonstrate that there are people in your life who will simply not understand the depths of your loss. But please know this: whether you lost a mother, brother, wife, dog, or fish, it was a spirit you had a connection with and therefore mourn. Please don't ever feel you don't have the "right" to experience your grief. No one can judge another's path. Your loss is YOUR loss. Don't let dogma (i.e. that voice in your head created by society) tell you you're overreacting or need to place an expiration date on your grief. Only you know how much you loved that special spirit. Only you fully understand the pain you're experiencing. Dismiss those who are lacking compassion. Too many people are disconnected from their spiritual selves and therefore can't understand how two spirits, especially those of different species, can be so interlinked. Don't let their negative opinions influence you. You're on a difficult journey to healing. Be kind to yourself during this arduous transformation. And if the pain feels too much to bear, please seek professional help.
Blessed Be.
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