Back in the Summer, after I returned from the spiritual ecology retreat in Normandy, I started to see signs of death everywhere. It was a daily occurrence to see a funeral car transporting a coffin, people talking about death, or seeing words related to death everywhere. At some point, I asked the universe out loud, "What do you want me to do with death?". I was at a bit of a crossroads with work, and so I thought, maybe I'm meant to go to work in a funeral or care home. Maybe asking that question prompted the universe to send a more obvious sign because, out of the blue, I received a message from a woman called Alexandria on LinkedIn. She had come across my profile, and intrigued by it, she messaged me asking if we could chat. As I looked at her profile, I found it curious that she had a spiritual business and was promoting it on LinkedIn, something I was at a threshold with.
I messaged back, and we got on a Zoom call. What was meant to be an hour call was almost two. We discussed many different things about spirituality and coming out of the spiritual closet. Then we stumbled into a conversation about grief and death. She talked about training to become an end-of-life Doula (spiritual midwife to the dying), which instantly piqued my curiosity. I asked her to tell me more. She followed it with, "Oh, and the person's name who runs it is Alexandra." I smiled at what I already knew was this gift of fate. Once I got off the phone, I researched Alexandra and her course and emailed her. I got a very prompt email telling me that they had just relaunched their website and offering and that if I was available, there was an open evening that same day. I replied back straight away, "Count me in!"
I sat in on the Zoom call intrigued, and excited. However, when everyone joined, I instantly felt out of place. Everyone was considerably older than me, and I wondered if I was too young to do this work? – a narrative that I've had throughout my career. We started with a meditation and then shared why we were interested in doing the course. I hadn't thought about it much, as the serendipitous events had happened so quickly. "Well, I think I'm particularly interested in grief, and that's down to my experience of having a miscarriage. Plus, death has been calling my attention a lot these past few weeks, sending me signs." Alexandra summarised the content we'd be covering, and I flinched at the thought of working with dead people. However, my heart raced with excitement at the thought of studying ancestry in the context of death. I left the meeting sitting on the fence about whether to do it, as the investment was considerably pricier than anything I'd ever done personal Development wise and my funds were tight.
But despite that, I still felt the call, so I got on the phone with Alexandra. I explained my reservations about the more practical side of the course that didn't interest me as much as I didn't see myself becoming a death doula, but being very interested in the ancestral and spiritual side of the work. We chatted about the difficulty of marketing to two different audiences, one more interested in the practical job and the other more interested in the spiritual job. We discussed my reservations about the price of the course, which she said on the open evening had some flexibility. When she asked me what I did for a living, she replied, "Today I woke up thinking that I need to sort out my LinkedIn", and just like that, the money obstacle disappeared. We made an agreement for me to pay half and barter the other half with my LinkedIn coaching.
The night before I was due to leave for the kick-off retreat, I had that moment of, "oh shit, I hadn't done my homework" when I remembered I needed to pick an object for the ancestral altar. I was staying at my childhood home, and so I asked my mum if she had anything I could take. She brought me back a stone. I recognised the stone but I couldn't place it. I said no, and then she returned with a cross, an instant yes. My mum's eldest brother had given her a cross, which hung on the back of our front door. It had a Jesus on it, but at some point, he got lost. That evening we had a long discussion about why I was doing the course. She struggled to comprehend why I would want to pursue such a tricky thing, given she had professionally cared for the dying on numerous occasions.
A few hours later and I was on a plane to Shannon to attend the start of the one-year end-of-life doula programme. I had an intuitive feeling that I would stay in Ireland longer than planned. The initial plan was to head to the End of Life Doula retreat and fly back to the UK or France. I'd even bought flights out to both those destinations. Then head back to Ireland, this time to Belfast, for a mythology workshop. Still, something told me I'd stay the whole time in Ireland and just travel up to Belfast. I had yet to know what I would do, but my gut told me all would unfold as it should, and there was no need to know or worry. Utter trust and surrender began to emerge as a way of being throughout this process. I didn't know what to expect, but I was excited.
I wrote a short poem as I was mid-air, that came to mean a whole lot more once I got back from the adventures of the Isle of Éire.
"There's a moment when a plane takes off that you know you won't be the same when you land back in your homeland.
You rise into the clouds and get submerged in a vast crisp white. Somehow you end up suspended there even when you land on the other side.
In the nothingness, in the white light, in the air.
Those events, experiences and emotions lived on the other side fundamentally change us.
Then we come back home, but nothing is ever the same."
I arrived one whole day earlier because the introvert in me wanted to get settled in early. So I spent the day reading, walking the land and getting knee-deep in mud in a labyrinth on the land. That evening I had a dream (that didn't feel like a dream) of a saint that stood at the foot of my bed, blessing me and my journey ahead. Later the next day at lunch, I would overhear someone talking about Saint Brigid the patroness saint (or 'mother saint') of Ireland. When they described her appearance and clothing, I realised that was who I'd seen.
The next day I met everyone else as we communed in this beautiful hexagonal space with large windows looking out onto the land. We were invited to bring our objects as we started the retreat by creating our ancestral altar. At the show and tell, I explained how my family was catholic and how religion was very present in my family. I found the course content familiar, which surprised me. I'd made a lot of trauma, nature connection, and grief work and found strands of teachings in what we were taught. However, new insights were popping up continuously.
I thought about how, when I was little, I was the only person at a funeral crying. It always made me wonder why no one was crying or if I was crying everyones tears? I realised how much grief I held for different people and how I started doing that from a young age when my parents separated. I thought about how I was already doing this work as I supported my neighbour for a year, helping her process her mother's death and holding space for her. I became aware of the generational pattern in my female lineage, of daughters becoming the carers of their mothers as they reach the end of their life.
On one of the days when we were sharing personal stories, someone sitting to my left began to talk about baby loss. I was struggling to contain my emotions, triggered by her recounting her experience in the hospital and the feeling of loss. After the session, it was lunch, but I hung back because I couldn't stop crying. As I inhaled the crisp air, I thought, "Is this amount of grief and tears really just my own?" instantly, it was like someone had closed the tap. In fact, I knew in my bones they weren't just my tears, and I wondered who in my female lineage had miscarried and never processed their grief. I thought about how earlier that day, as I had been unpacking my bag on arrival, I had found the stone my mum had suggested I bring. So that day, I texted her, "What's with the stone?" and "Do you know if my grandmorther had any miscarriages?"
With love and magic,
Upcoming news and events… (***NEW OFFERS***)
I'm excited to rerun my Story Alchemy online course in June, a six week journey into becoming aware of your Heroine's Journey and writing your story. We'll practice the principles and techniques of digital storytelling as well as creating a safe space for you to share your words with others. To find out more head here.
I am opening slots for Akashic Record Readings. For those unfamiliar with what it is, I'd recommend having a look at this article for an in detail explanation. I can open up the book of your soul and look into the past, present and future to gain insight, awareness and guidance. If youfeel called, you can email me here.
This is a call to women to immerse themselves in the journey of the feminine to reconnect with the power and deep love of the story. Over six months, you will hear a series of myths where you’ll be exploring your relationship around longing, fear, adversity, love, falling, failing and courage. To book on, follow this link.