“We are all gonna die!”
Shouting this phrase is a disaster movie trope and could also be used in a comedic capacity to denote someone behaving hysterically. Spoken quietly, this phrase is one of the few absolute truths in this life. Like the sides of a coin, life and death always exist in tandem.
Most people in our culture who aren’t goths only talk about death when it is necessary, when they lose loved ones or have a terminal diagnosis. Some don’t even want to think about their own mortality beyond the abstract. I believe this is changing, there is a movement toward the normalization of openly discussing end-of-life issues. I recently attended a retreat that was an immersive journey into death awareness called “Beyond the Veil”. It was hosted by a team of death doulas and shamanic practitioners.
I chanced upon a flyer for the event while thrift shopping in Nyack, NY. It caught my interest and I went online to read more about it. There was mention of the possibility of volunteering. Since I still wasn’t sure what to expect and if this event was for me, I decided that if I could volunteer then it would be a sign that I should proceed. After a few emails and phone calls with the organizer, I was invited to volunteer and I kindly accepted.
The event was held at a campgrounds in New City, NY, a stone’s throw from my current residence. The natural surroundings were a perfect environment for contemplation and inner work. Camping was available to participants but since I live so close and have zero camping experience, I passed on that aspect of the event. As such, I wasn’t present for all the activities of the weekend, but it was a great introduction to the subject matter. Much material was covered, so I will be focusing on the highlights for me.
Death has touched my life multiple times over the past decade or so. I have done some writing to process the grief and life changes, and I am always interested in new perspectives on the topic. Although I lead with an open mind, I was skeptical at first because many of the facilitators seemed too youthful to be experienced with death and dying. This prejudice was totally unfounded and proved to be folly over the course of the weekend.
One of my volunteer duties was to shuttle volunteers from the Tarrytown train station to the campgrounds on Friday evening. This was a wonderful opportunity to meet other volunteers and also the facilitators who were on site preparing for the event. Since the camp is also a day camp for kids during summer weekdays, there was a petting zoo on the grounds. I was excited to see sheep, goats and a cow. The cow came over to the fence and as I was petting her head, she started licking my hand. It filled my heart with guilt for the limited meat that I still occasionally consume. It was helpful for me to see the layout of the grounds, to ease my discomfort with a new situation.
On Saturday morning, after shuttling some participants from the train station and having a light brunch with vegetarian options, the journey commenced. We gathered in an open field near a small pond and arranged ourselves in a circle with a fire pit in the center. We were a diverse group of close to 40 participants including the facilitators. Going around the circle each participant spoke their name, where they were from and a one word intention for the weekend. My word was “weaving”. In addition to my hobby of weaving beads and thread, I consider writing and creating forms of weaving, bringing thoughts, images and impressions together into a tapestry. The opening ceremony was led by a Taino chief who is also a death doula. He called upon the ancestors and spiritual guides, addressing the four directions of the compass and offering gratitude in words and song. A fire was lit in the pit which was kept burning for the duration of the retreat. We were each given pieces of wood to individually light and then add to the fire with a pinch of tobacco as an offering. The message conveyed was “You must give in order to receive.” The ceremonial medicine of cacao was shared. This was my first taste and it was rich, slightly bitter and warming to the heart, like hot chocolate without the sugary sweetness. There was a mandala created in the vicinity made up of natural elements.
With hearts opened we participated in a series of workshops with short breaks in between. All the workshops took place in an open air pavilion. There was comfortable seating on mats and cushions positioned in a semicircle around an altar set with sacred objects and oracle decks. We were welcome to add our own meaningful items to the altar for the duration of the retreat. (I added seashells and chicken feathers.) There was a logical sequence to the subject matter, from living to preparing for death, to our wishes once our bodies have expired. All of the workshops included journaling opportunities with thoughtful prompts. The first workshop was entitled “Dying Awake”. We were encouraged to contemplate what ways we could be living more fully with the awareness of death not as a fear but as a reminder. A noteworthy question raised was “If I knew I had one year to live, what would become unimportant?”
The second workshop was called “The Art of Dying Well”. This talk highlighted legal and practical aspects concerning dying, but it was delivered with compassion and grace. The importance of having a healthcare proxy and discussing your wishes with your loved ones was emphasized. Two key points that I took away from this discussion were: 1. The body knows how to die. 2. Preparation is an act of love. This new knowledge was empowering and a gentle call to action.
The last workshop before we had a break for dinner was titled “Sacred Return to the Earth” and it explored different types of funeral and burial options including green burials. The end-of-life doula who guided this session had brought examples of her handcrafted green coffins which were nothing like I expected. They were made from all natural materials consisting of a wooden frame on the bottom and macrame netting which would cover the body and which could have flowers and other personal touches woven into it. We ended with an exercise journaling “What does my imagined funeral feel like to the senses?”
The afternoon provided a smorgasbord of food for thought, and the evening began with a delicious buffet including plant-based options. With full bellies we embarked on my favorite part of the whole weekend which was a Shamanic Breath and Sound Journey. We had been instructed to bring yoga mats and blankets and to dress comfortably. I had experienced some breathwork in yoga classes, but this was so much more intense. The lighting was dim and relaxing. We started with a few gentle stretches and then lay back snuggled in our blankets and closed our eyes. Participants could anonymously opt out of being touched by the facilitators by raising their hand at the beginning. The guides let us know it was okay to cry, move and vocalize, if we were inspired to do so. There was recorded music with the addition of instruments played by the shamanic guides. There was guided imagery to help with meditation and release. We were instructed to imagine a child version of ourselves guiding us to a sacred space as well as interactions with ancestor guides. I pictured a close friend of mine who died last year dancing and leading me along a path on a warm beach. I also imagined being visited by my cat who was with me for 18 years before passing a few years ago. I felt my body gently swaying. At times, tears wet my cheeks, yet I was humming with contentment. When the session was over, I felt a bit spent but peaceful. I had initially planned to stay for one more event, but decided I wanted to end my evening on this note and headed home to retire and continue the dream.
Sunday was a shorter day comparatively. I did not arrive early enough to take part in the sunrise yoga and breakfast, but I got there with ample time to attend the first workshop of the new day entitled “Crossing Thresholds”. This was a fascinating talk exploring life as a series of thresholds and how many people end up straddling the threshold instead of passing over it. An idea that came up was that when you are traumatized you go into self-protective mode, which can impair forward motion. While listening to the talk I noticed the tiniest jumping spider enter my space. I let them jump on my hand and crawl on me for a short spell before I brought them over to the altar and let them free among the sacred objects. This reinforced my intention of weaving and I saw writing as a way to cross my own sticky psychological thresholds.
Just before we broke for lunch, we split up into smaller groups each with a facilitator. It was an opportunity to delve deeper into topics that were explored over the whole weekend and a chance to connect with other participants in a more intimate setting. Like many people, I’ve always found it easier to share my thoughts in a smaller gathering. The supportive atmosphere was conducive to speaking freely and expressing vulnerability.
After lunch we returned to the space by the fire pit for a final circle to integrate what we experienced over the weekend. The facilitators approached each participant and blessed them with smoke, scent, sound and mist. I was sitting criss-cross applesauce with my eyes closed, but I felt the need to lay back. I pressed my back into the earth and felt remarkably grounded. I felt the sun on my body, like a fire burning away the frayed edges of my being. When the heat reached an intensity close to unbearable, I opened my eyes. The sky was vivid blue with fluffy white clouds. The wind was moving the clouds into different shapes that resembled dragons dancing and shifting and becoming other dragons. When I sat up I felt a breeze and felt refreshed and at peace.
Retreat means to step back and one of the many insights from this weekend was that I need to step back in my life before moving forward. I was filled with a mental clarity and a new sense of purpose. It was so wonderful having a spiritually focused time out with like-minded individuals. I was reminded of the power of ritual and was inspired to bring that into my day-to-day life. The retreat was a much needed escape from the mundane and with my return to the ordinary, I feel profoundly changed by the experience, in the best way. Namaste!
Amazing read.