It's been just over two years since I experienced an unexpected death that forever changed me. It all happened quickly, a diagnosis and phenomenal loss in less than a week. Half a damn week, really. When it happened I wasn't just sad and depressed, I was choking on the grief, wading in guilt—which all too often accompanies grief—and I was angry.
Really. Friggen. Angry.
I wrote about it here and discussed the natural approaches I used to help cope with the grief here. Since then I've received a lot of e-mails regarding these posts and have had more than one person tell me they feel there isn't enough discussion concerning grief and Paganism, as if the topic itself is taboo.
In some ways, maybe it is. After all, death is something we openly embrace. Heck, our biggest sabbat is dedicated to it! We honor death as part of the life cycle, an ending that is also a beginning. As Pagans, we see beauty in the cyclical, including the reality that all life cycles include a stage of death. To us, death is not a definitive ending but merely a period of transition and growth for the soul, returning to the Divine Essence from which we all emerge.
Yet therein lies a dark little conundrum, one that I myself have questioned: Since Pagans embrace death as part of life, shouldn't we be at peace when people die? Shouldn't Pagans innately have a shortened period of grief since we understand it as the end of our journey on Earth? Shouldn't we be celebrating their life and honoring their transcendence instead of crying? Their spiritual journey is over! They've accomplished what their spirit came here to do! All is well, my remaining earth-dwelling friends!
Yet therein lies a dark little conundrum, one that I myself have questioned: Since Pagans embrace death as part of life, shouldn't we be at peace when people die? Shouldn't Pagans innately have a shortened period of grief since we understand it as the end of our journey on Earth? Shouldn't we be celebrating their life and honoring their transcendence instead of crying? Their spiritual journey is over! They've accomplished what their spirit came here to do! All is well, my remaining earth-dwelling friends!
Um, NO. This Pagan is more than willing to admit I am NOT okay with death. I accept it and I seek comfort in my spiritual beliefs when someone I love dies. I await signs. I tell myself death was part of their journey, and all journeys must end. But I mourn like a mutha.
Like, bad.
I'm an embarrassment at a funeral. I can't stop sobbing. The only redeeming factor is that I've learned to do so quietly. Even if I hardly knew the person I'm still a weepy mess. I just feel so deeply for their survivors, you know? We've all experienced the pain of loss. And despite understanding the need for death, it's a reality I strongly dislike— seeing people in pain, watching the family suffer. Knowing that numb, alien, sleep-like state they will stumble through in the weeks following such a painful loss.
As a Pagan, I do see a beauty to the cycle of life. There is a peace that can be found in the impermanence. Nothing lasts forever, not even the crappy stuff, which is a good thing when you're swimming in a poo-laden stream. As a Pagan I accept death, but I don't have to be happy about it!
I'm not okay with losing someone I love. I'm certainly not okay with watching them suffer, because death is an UGLY creature. And when I lost someone I so desperately loved two years ago, my world all but shattered. I will openly admit I didn't handle it with even a semblance of grace. I proverbially collapsed. I stopped functioning. The only reason I even ate was because my husband continued to shove plates of food in front of me and gently nudged me to eat. Otherwise, I probably would have gone weeks on just water and Kleenex.
As Pagans, we often discuss the release that is death, the end to a cycle, and the eternal qualities of our soul. But apparently we don't discuss the turmoil left behind on our wondrous planet, because, as I said earlier, quite a few people have contacted me about feeling this topic is not frequently explored in our community.
Fortunately, after previously mentioned snot-fests at funerals, there's little in life that embarrasses me, so I'll go ahead and admit to it: As a Pagan I struggle with death.
Not all losses are as monumental as the train wreck that occurred in 2016, but every loss is met with tears, with sadness, with a period of uncomfortable numbness where the world feels oddly dull and yet distressingly piercing at the same time. The explanation for this experience isn't that complicated: we are human. It doesn't matter what we believe, loss is still loss. They call it that for a reason! Someone that mattered to us—human or animal alike—is now missing from our daily life, leaving behind a void, excruciating emotions, and a lot of questions.
Why them? Why now? Why like that? Why ever? Why is life filled with so much goddamn pain?
It's okay to question the meaning of it all, the purpose of a path you can't rationalize. It's acceptable to wonder if you've been fooling yourself with comforting beliefs. It's natural to ponder if it's all a load of bullshit. Is there even really a purpose?
I've done all of the above. I'm sure you have to. Moreover, it's okay to be angry. And it's okay to direct that anger at the energies that called home your loved one, the very same energies we otherwise worship. They can handle your wavering faith, your limitless anger. They understand your soul and the agony you are in. As our spiritual parents, they will carry you while you've fallen and they won't hold resentment when you are ready to stand again. Because the simple truth of spirituality and death is this:
Just as science can explain the process of conception without removing the awe of birth, spirituality can offer us footing but cannot eliminate the heartache of death. There is explanation, there is grounding in your beliefs, but the loss still remains.
I've done all of the above. I'm sure you have to. Moreover, it's okay to be angry. And it's okay to direct that anger at the energies that called home your loved one, the very same energies we otherwise worship. They can handle your wavering faith, your limitless anger. They understand your soul and the agony you are in. As our spiritual parents, they will carry you while you've fallen and they won't hold resentment when you are ready to stand again. Because the simple truth of spirituality and death is this:
Just as science can explain the process of conception without removing the awe of birth, spirituality can offer us footing but cannot eliminate the heartache of death. There is explanation, there is grounding in your beliefs, but the loss still remains.
Furthermore, being a spiritual person does not mean you never question your beliefs, your journey, or your purpose. I question that stuff all the time. If you're not questioning, you're not learning. And considering we're on a learning plane, there's always more to be understood. Otherwise, your journey would be complete and I'd be standing graveside, a blubbering spectacle garnering stares from bewildered strangers.
If you've recently lost a loved one or you're still grappling long after a death, be patient with yourself as you process these arduous emotions. Grieving is a long process, and the truth is some losses will never fully heal. They'll become manageable, sealed over with a thin layer of acceptance, but in the quiet hours we still experience the yearning for that special soul that changed our lives.
Even now, two years after that ominous day, there are moments I ache with longing, my eyes well with tears, and my heart feels the weight of his absence. But most days I can celebrate his life, the lessons we learned together, and our bond that is unbreakable, even after death.
Because I am Pagan, and I know that his soul lives on.
Have you questioned your beliefs after the loss of a loved one? Do you feel grief is under represented in Paganism?
By using this site, you agree you have read the full DISCLAIMER.
NOTE: As with any recommendation found on this blog, consult your doctor or naturopath before use.
