Rites of Loss
Although all rites of passage could be looked at as a way of “leveling up,” there are some rites that come with the experience of loss. And loss sometimes feels like a step backward. Loss feels like a punch in the gut, or a failure. When you are experiencing loss, it can be hard to see the good that will inevitably come out of it. Loss often comes with sadness, anger, and many of the emotions society says are “bad.”
However, rites of loss are often your most powerful teachers. They show you how strong you are and challenge you to keep going. When you are undergoing these rites, it might seem impossible, like the hard times will never end, but when you reach the other side, it’s remarkable to look back at how strong you truly are. Rites of loss challenge you because it’s hard to see what you will gain at the end of it. With a rite of leveling up, you know there will be a reward at the end of your hard work, but with a rite of loss it is hard to see the pain or struggle as any type of reward.
What These Rites Have in Common
All rites of passage contain a component of letting go of one’s identity, allowing a new identity to arise. The rites in this section, however, are fundamentally different, and that’s due to grief. While you might pine for a simpler time—a more innocent version of yourself—rites of becoming, of leveling up, usually come with a real and tangible reward. The rites in this section, as a general rule, do not. And the changes you might be experiencing are, for the most part, permanent and irreversible. There is a loss here, and more often than not, a profound, earth-shattering, world-changing loss.
What people experience during loss is the rite of mortality. To put it even more bluntly, these rites, as painful as they are, prepare humans for their own inevitable demise. There is no escaping this. When you lose a pet, you are reminded that you too will die. When you lose a job, you not only grieve the loss of income and security, but buried somewhere in your mind is the awareness that one day, everyone gets fired from the job they know as life. Divorce is the death of a relationship, and with that comes the understanding that while 50 percent of marriages may end in divorce, 100 percent of successful marriages end with death.
In her book When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chödrön observes that people experience death “in the form of disappointment, in the forms of things not working out. We experience it in the form of things always being in a process of change. When the day ends, when the second ends, when we breathe out, that’s death in everyday life.” 12
The Catalyst. The catalyst in loss is life itself and the ending of all things. Sometimes, although you are saddened and confused and grieving, the loss of a pet can elicit a feeling of relief, especially if your beloved pet companion was ill or suffering or if their ongoing care became an untenable burden. The sudden and unexpected loss of a job may completely disrupt your life and security, but the death of that old job may bring another opportunity. Most often in rites of loss, people face the demanding style of the catalyst. There is rarely time to prepare, the event happens, and then you prepare for it by being in it.
The Ordeal. Loss is terrible. There are no good losses. Who wouldn’t want their beloved dog to live on, perpetually happy, healthy, and running wildly through fields on your afternoon walks? But the ordeal is to get through loss. It is often said of loss and grief that there is never a time when you are past grieving, but rather, you learn to live with loss and grief as part of life. It is then that you can look back with laughter and tears of joy.
Alone and Yet in Community. This shows up in an odd way. People function in their lives with their grief hidden just under the surface. There’s an appreciable difference in a person’s demeanor when their world has been rocked by loss. There’s a depth, a distance, a pulling back from the world that is ever so slightly evident if you look at them just the right way. And that knowing never quite leaves. The loss happens to you, but your life continues.
The Advisor. This role, the position of one that has survived, is never more profoundly needed than in this arena. Sitting with someone enduring unfathomable loss and the anguish that accompanies it is an act of pure compassion. You know, because you’ve been there or are there, that no words can comfort, no hugs can replace the soft nuzzle of a much-loved pet, and all the hand-holding in the world cannot assuage the pain of realizing a loved one will never hold their hand again.
Dealing with Grief
We start this section by looking at grief. For any rites of loss, there may be feelings of grief that need processing. There is a theory that there are five stages of grief. This concept was popularized by the book On Death and Dying by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and has become quite mainstream. With this idea becoming commonplace, there has been a misconception; some folks hold the belief that you work through the stages of grief one at a time, like it’s a checklist to be completed. Once you’ve finished the steps, you will then be able to “move on.”
But in our experience, that’s not how it works.
The process of grief ebbs and flows. You may move through some of the stages only to move backward or step back into the step you thought you were done with. It is not a linear process.
Here is an excerpt from the book What Is Remembered Lives on the grieving process and the stages of grief:
• Denial: Simply stated, this is the initial point. The “I can’t believe it” phase. During the denial phase you may find yourself convinced that there has been a mistake or it’s been some sort of terrible joke. Even when a death is expected, this denial can be a part of the grieving process. It is a state of shock when the reality of the loss is just too big to fully process.
• Anger: This emotion can be directed virtually anywhere and at anyone. Perhaps you are angry with your dead, with yourself, with the medical establishment, with the Godds. Anger can be a cap holding back other emotions. The best way to deal with anger is to fully experience it and allow it to come through in healthy ways.
• Bargaining/Guilt: At some point you will find yourself making deals with a higher power to bring your loved one back. This can also manifest as looking at all the “what ifs.” Looking at all the choices and opportunities when you could have done something differently. When you may have had a chance of saving your loved one, even if there really was no chance of that.
• Depression: Eventually the emptiness of the loss will hit. Most of us are familiar with what depression looks or feels like. Nothing matters, nothing is interesting, and nothing brings any ounce of joy. Living loved ones may try to rush shifting out of this stage. Attempts may be made to help someone in depression “cheer up.” Although these attempts may be offered from a loving or helpful place, depression will take the time it takes. And if it does deepen into a clinical depression, medical and/or psychological help may be needed.
• Acceptance: This is far from being alright and moving forward like nothing happened; acceptance is more like an understanding, a comfort with the discomfort of it. Grief never goes away, but it does dull, soften, and ease. Even when acceptance comes, there will be times, even years later, when one of the other stages rears its ugly head.13
The spiritual work of processing grief takes time and it is never going to be a one-size-fits-all solution. Know that it is going to unfold in its own unique way.
Grief has no rhyme or reason. It doesn’t make sense and can’t be broken down into logical steps to just get over it. Grief can physically hurt. Grief can make you sick. Grief can make you starve yourself or try to fill the void with food. Grief can spiral you down into a depression or numb you into oblivion. It can hit you when you least expect it. And it can leave you tiptoeing around it in an attempt to avoid touching the raw nerve of it.
And yet, giving yourself time and space to be with (or in) your grief is an important part of the healing process. Studies show when you ritualize grief, when you express it in ways that may only make sense to you as an individual, it can help.
Find a time and place where you can be undisturbed. There is no specific time when it is best to do this ritual. Do it when you feel called, any time you feel called, even if that is every day for a week.
Once you start the ritual, you might want to quit or stop. If you notice this happening, don’t call it quits right away. Just pause and notice why you want to stop. Is it fear of facing your emotions, or are you just not ready to open yourself up to your grief? People fear that if they open themselves to grief, they will never be able to step back from it, but that isn’t true. Grief will take the time it takes, but you will move through it.
Supplies: Pillows, blankets, a journal, a pen, a glass-encased candle, dragon’s blood incense, a drum, a rattle, a glass of water, and a box of tissues.
Set Up: Create a comfortable place where you can sit or lie down for as long as you need to. Put all the pillows and blankets together with your journal and pen nearby. Have the drum and rattle, tissues, and glass of water in a reachable place.
Ritual: Let yourself get comfortable in the pillows and blankets. Throughout the duration of the ritual feel free to move about your space: stretch out, curl up, roll around in the blankets, wrap yourself up, whatever you might feel called to do. Let your movements be comforting. Light the candle, light the incense, and speak to your grief. Speak for your heart about being ready to communicate with it.
Pick up your journal and begin writing about your grief. Write to your grief as if you were writing it a letter. You might feel called to express your emotions as you write. Let yourself express anything as it comes up. If you want to scream, scream. If you want to cry, bawl your eyes out. Bang on the drum, shake the rattle, pound your fist into the pillows, do anything you feel called to do. You may find you cry yourself to sleep in this ritual or you sit and sob for twenty minutes. Anything you do in this ritual space serves to help you process your grief.
As you write this letter, you may need to take breaks. Give yourself moments to pause. Take deep breaths, drink a glass of water, center yourself, and then go back to writing.
When you feel complete with the process of writing, set your journal aside. Drink a glass of water if you haven’t already. Let yourself ground and center yourself. Slowly release the emotions that you have been processing, blow out the candle, and put out the incense.
Clean up the ritual space, but don’t return to your writing. Give it some time before you even read what you have written. You might not ever want to read what you wrote. If that’s the case, rip out the pages and burn them.
This ritual is excellent for any time you need to cut ties with a relationship that has outlived its need to be in your life. If there is an old friendship, lover, work situation, or even a coven you need to break ties with, this ritual can begin releasing your bonds and start the process of moving on. This ritual should be performed during a new moon or any time it feels necessary. You will need to be undisturbed for the length of the ritual, which could be as quick as ten minutes or as long as an hour.
Supplies: Favorite cleansing herbs for burning, a firesafe container, an athame, a plate with a lemon cut in half, a cup of hyssop tea, and a full-length mirror.
Set Up: Place the full-length mirror in a location where you can easily see your full self. Put the firesafe container with the herbs in it near the bottom of the mirror along with a plate and your cut lemon. Have your athame close at hand. Place the cup of tea in your shower, but don’t turn on the water.
Ritual: Stand in front of the mirror, breathing deeply, and bring yourself into center. When you feel ready, light the cleansing herbs. Keep them burning throughout the whole ritual process.
Look at yourself in the mirror and notice if there are any areas that look “off.” Perhaps there is a spot that’s blurry or off-color. Perhaps you notice an area with a slightly hazy look or your eyes keep getting drawn to a specific part of your body. These are places where you have blocks, obstacles, or ties that need to be released. If you don’t see anything that looks off, do an internal scan of your body and see if you feel anything. Is there a tight muscle or soreness? Have you noticed unusual pain cropping up somewhere in your body? There can also be places where there are ties that need to be released.
If you don’t feel anything is off, follow along with the cleansing, but use the smoke over your whole body. If you feel called to focus on any one area of your body, trust your intuition and cleanse those areas longer.
Start by using the smoke to cleanse areas that look or feel off. Carefully, pick up the firesafe container and use the smoke as a cleanse or sain. If the spot feels and looks better after cleansing, move on to the next spot. However, if it still feels like something is off, pick up your athame. Use your ritual knife to cut any etheric threads. DO NOT CUT YOUR PHYSICAL BODY! Rather, cut any threads or ties that are hooked into your spirit body. Cut those ties and then use the smoke on the spot left open.
Do another scan of your body, both by looking in the mirror and by closing your eyes and doing an intentional spirit scan. If there are still areas that need cleansing, or if any places where you cut ties don’t feel closed, take the halved lemon and rub that on your body. Do not do this if you have open wounds or are allergic to lemons.
When you feel clear and clean, take a shower, washing as you normally would wash. When you are done, pour the cup of hyssop tea over your head, making sure it is cool enough to touch before you do it. Let yourself air dry.
This is a solo ritual that can be done at any point when you are dealing with a broken heart. This is a ritual for processing grief. It may need to be repeated over and over again. Know that each time you perform this ritual, you are shifting your energy and things are improving. It may not feel easy, but the steps forward from grief are often small. You may not be able to see how far you have come until you have walked a long way toward healing.
The following ritual calls for the use of black walnut, which can stain if not handled properly. Make sure you thoroughly rinse off any containers you use and avoid wearing any items of clothing you don’t want to have stained.
Supplies: Several whole black walnuts, pantyhose, Epsom salt, and a bathtub of hot water.
Set Up: This ritual requires a bathtub. If you don’t have a bathtub in your home, see if a friend or family member would let you use one. Place the black walnuts into a leg of the stocking, tie the stocking off, and cut it so you are holding a sack of walnuts. Fill the bathtub with hot water and add in a cup of Epsom salt and the sack of walnuts.
Ritual: Allow the tub to fill before getting in the water. The sack of walnuts will begin to leech a dark color into the water. Allow your body to sink into the tub as much as possible, but don’t soak your head.
While you are in the tub, allow yourself the time and space to feel and express your feelings. If you want to cry, cry. Express and emote as you need to. Continue to do this until you feel complete—or at least, complete for the moment.
When you feel ready, take the stocking of walnuts out of the water but stay in the tub. Drain the bathtub, watching as the water goes down the drain. Let yourself feel the pull of the drain and let that pull help to shift anything else that needs to be let go of. Watch as the water disappears, taking some of your worries along with it.
Repeat this process anytime you are overcome with heartache.
Divorce, Handparting, or Ending a Relationship
It’s unclear where the term handparting originated. But when things come together, there will also be things that fall apart. As Wiccan and early Pagan rituals started to become more easily available, divorce rates also continued to rise. It just makes common sense that folks who wanted a Pagan wedding ceremony, or handfasting, would also want a Pagan divorce ritual—also referred to as a handparting, although there is no historical information related to the term handparting.
Many of the rituals and writings available about handpartings could lead you to believe that Witches and Pagans are much more levelheaded, calm, and understanding when it comes to divorce or relationships ending than someone from the mainstream. Most handparting rituals include both (or all) parties of the couple working together in ritual space.
In our experience, two people breaking up are likely to struggle being around each other, Pagan or not. The following rituals are written for a divorce, handparting, or breakup when one person needs to do the releasing work on their own and for when both (or all) parties can work together to complete the ritual. When two people can put aside their differences and disagreements to ritually end their relationship, more magick has been done in just that decision than what any formal ritual may offer. If you can do the ritual together, that’s an amazing blessing. If you can’t, that’s nothing to feel bad about.
The dissolution of a relationship always has a larger impact on more than just the people in the relationship. Friends and family may feel like they have to choose a side. Covens or communities may be impacted. Children may have split homes. Property may need to be divided. Money issues could flare up. There is a lot more to a handparting than a simple ritual.
The following rituals are for your personal spiritual processing. They should not take the place of legal counsel, mediations, or therapy to help you take the other steps needed to move on from a marriage ending.
Phoenix Gets Divorced
When my first marriage ended, it was a deeply painful time, but it was also a relief. I was ready for the relationship to be over. I was done. But it was hard to hurt the person that I cared for and who I knew cared for me so deeply.
In the grand scheme of things, my divorce was a rather easy dissolution; we remained amicable and were willing to work together. Emotionally, it was a very trying time, don’t get me wrong. There were lots of tears and many times yelling and fighting, but we figured our way through it as smoothly as we could.
If we didn’t have a child together, I’m not sure that it would have been as simple as we made it. We wanted to make it work because of her. We knew we would always be in each other’s lives because of her, so we both gritted our teeth and worked it out.
I’m also a no-nonsense kind of person. Once I have decided something is happening, I just do it. I don’t like things to feel unfinished or unsettled. Once we had the hard conversation and our relationship was over, I immediately started the steps of moving out, separating our belongings, and making plans for custody. I jumped right into the action, making little space for the emotions of it. It wasn’t until much later—after our handparting ritual, actually—that the emotional impact took its toll.
Several months after the relationship ended and we had both moved into our own houses, we decided to do a handparting ritual. It was simple and easy. We didn’t cast a circle or invite participants. We didn’t announce it or make anything public. In fact, except for a handful of my closest friends, I haven’t shared the details of this ritual until now. The ritual is included in the next section, the Couple Handparting Ritual.
After the ritual, I began to wonder if I had made a terrible mistake. I started to question what I truly wanted. All the things that had felt so clear and simple to me suddenly looked muddy and confusing. I had to process my grief of failing at marriage, because that was what it felt like. I had failed.
My grief came much later than I thought it would, but it did come. I sat with it, honored it, listened to it, and ultimately moved through it.
This ritual is written with the original handfasting tie as a part of the ritual. It is common in a handfasting for the participants to have their hands tied together as a symbol of their union. Ideally, you want to use this same tie for the handparting ritual. If there isn’t a handfasting tie or if it isn’t available, another tie will do.
However, if you are using a replacement tie, you will want to take time with it before starting the ritual. Imbue the tie with your feelings and memories of your partnership. Speak stories that were good and happy as well as those that were challenging and difficult. Write your name and your partner’s name on the ribbon, along with the date of your handfasting or wedding.
Supplies: Handfasting tie or replacement ribbon, a sharp pair of scissors, an athame, and a bowl of salt water.
Set Up: Place all the items on a simple altar. You can use any surface or table.
Ritual: Ground and center yourself. Take your time and let this ritual move at a pace you feel ready for. When the time is right, pick up the handfasting tie. Hold it in your hands. Smell it, feel its texture, and let it bring forth memories.
When you feel ready, pick up the scissors and cut the handfasting tie. Set the scissors down and pick up your athame. Give yourself time to connect with your spirit body and see where you may have etheric ties that need to be severed. Use your athame to cut these ties.
If you can’t feel or sense these energies, act as if you could. Move your athame over the exterior of your body until you feel like stopping. When you stop, make a cut in your aura. DO NOT CUT YOUR PHYSICAL BODY! Visualize a tie to your relationship being cut and setting you free. Any ties should be reeled back into your body. Call these pieces back to yourself, then use the palm of your hand to flood this area with a bright healing white light. Continue to do this until you feel ready to stop.
Set down your athame and dip your fingers into the salt water. Sprinkle this over yourself, using it as a cleansing to clear your spirit body of anything else.
When you are finished, place the pieces of your handfasting tie away or burn them if they are safely able to be burned; trust your intuition to tell you what is best to do. You may also feel compelled to take a shower. Do this if you must.
The ritual written here is very simple. It is written for the members of the handparting to be present only. However, this can be adjusted if there is a desire for witnesses or a high priestess or high priest to officiate the ritual. A handparting is a very private ritual; witnesses are not a required part of the process.
There will be no formal words written for this ceremony. If either person feels called to speak or to make agreements for how they will conduct themselves moving forward in life, this can be added to the ritual. If there are children involved, you may want to consider this, but it is not necessary. It’s important all parties agree not to argue and to stay civil during the ritual.
Supplies: Handfasting tie or stand-in tie, a bowl of salt water, scissors, cleansing herbs, incense charcoal, and a firesafe container.
Set Up: Place all the objects on a simple altar space. Each of you takes time to ground and center yourself.
Ritual: When ready, speak to the dissolution of your relationship. Place your rings in the bowl of salt water. Each of you pick up a side of the handfasting tie. Together, pick up the scissors and use it to cut the tie in two. Each of you should keep one side of the tie.
Light the charcoal and place the cleansing herbs in the fireproof container. Each partner takes time to use the smoke as a cleansing. When complete, take a moment to honor each other and go your separate ways.
You each will need to determine what to do with your piece of the tie. If it’s made of natural materials, you may decide to burn or bury your piece of the tie. You might also want to keep it as a memento of that time of your life or save it for any children from the relationship.
End of a Job
Losing a job can be a terrifying experience. It can be heartbreaking, scary, or a total relief. It doesn’t matter if you get fired, are made redundant, or face life circumstances that force you to quit, losing your job is a difficult rite of passage to go through. The loss of a job can make it feel like the rug has been swept out from underneath you. A steady job is a sense of security and having that unexpectedly taken away can rock your world, and not in a good way.
Think about any time you’ve been around a new group of people. Almost immediately after the handshakes and the “Oh! It’s nice to meet you too,” comes the question “What do you do?” Folks like to know which box you fit in. If you answer, “I’m a schoolteacher,” a person hears you’ve got a college degree and love children. You’re steady and safe. If you answer, “I’m a doctor,” people will make assumptions about your income and level of schooling. Likewise, when you say “I’m between jobs” or “I just got laid off last week,” there’s an immediate reaction that looks a lot like fidgeting and looking away and wishing there was a hole to jump into. Folks aren’t quite sure what to make of that answer because it’s not the answer they expect.
And let’s be honest, it’s awkward to be on either end of that conversation. For most people, losing a job is like losing a big piece of their identity. For years you were the schoolteacher or the cook or the welder. It’s difficult to be the unemployed person.
When we look at the steps in a rite of passage, losing a job is an ordeal but typifies the dissolution phase too. You are no longer that which you have been; the names and privileges of your former profession no longer apply to you—you still have an engineering degree, you did work as an engineer, but you’re not an engineer anymore. That can be a hard pill to swallow.
There may also be a deep sense of loss, relief, or excitement when the loss of a job or career is due to life circumstances, like becoming a stay-at-home parent or needing to care for ailing family members.
Phoenix Gets Laid Off
I worked in the corporate world for many years. I was really good at my job and I worked for a pretty great company. We made organic body care products and I was the manager of our customer service department. I was paid well and had a lot of flexibility. The folks I worked with were accepting and kind. It was actually the best corporate job I have ever had.
Right after I started working for this small company, it was bought out by a large corporation located in a different state. Everyone insisted that it would change nothing. They loved us, they loved what we did, and we would be taking over all of their other body care brands. Sounded good! And for a year, that’s exactly how it went.
Then one random day, a team of corporate suits arrived, and we had a surprise staff meeting with all of the employees. As we walked into the meeting room, I jokingly said to my coworkers, “Well, it’s been nice working with you.” I’m sure you can see where this is going.
We were all laid off. Some of us were let go that day. Some of us were given thirty days, sixty days, or ninety days. Because I was the one person who knew how to do all the work of my department for the smallest amount of money, I was kept for ninety days.
It was shocking, but not really. I was scared, but not really. I knew that after ninety days I would be in deep trouble. I was living paycheck to paycheck and I could not imagine having another corporate job. For the next ninety days, I spent more of my days doing less and less work as my counterpart in another state took over my duties and got up to speed with the company’s systems. I’d work for a couple of hours and then spend the rest of the day waiting for an email with a question. Instead of sitting there staring into nothingness (or you know, looking for another job), I read several novels and updated my social media pages. On the last day of my employment, I was basically alone in the office. There was no one to say goodbye to. There was no party to send me on my way. There were no tearful coworkers telling me they would miss working together. It was quiet and weird. I shut off the lights and walked away.
I knew that something needed to happen. I had to have a job. I had to get another paycheck—and soon—but I’d really only been half-ass looking. I’d brushed up my resume, applied for a few jobs I didn’t really want, and spent lots of time trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do next. Sadly, winning the lottery didn’t manifest for me.
Throughout the process, I held sadness for all of my coworkers that were already gone. I held sadness for the building that was going to be empty in a few weeks. I held sadness for a small family business turning into a megacorporation. And, because I’m a Witch, I also cut my ties with that job, that specific time in my life, and prepared myself for the next adventure that was going to come my way.
It wasn’t all smooth and happy. I processed all the grief for all the externals, but it took a long time for me to process all the internals. In fact, I was totally unconscious of my internal process, which is probably why it took so long. The next three years were really difficult. It’s a long story (I’ll tell you about it over a cocktail someday), but ultimately that shift—that uninvited shift—totally changed my trajectory. The life that I am living now is what I had secretly dreamed about but didn’t really think was possible. If I hadn’t been forced out of the corporate nest like a baby bird, I never would have learned how to create anything on my own.
We don’t know what the future holds. Losing a job can mean that life is never the same again and it can also mean that something wonderful is about to happen. As Witches, the best we can do is recognize the situation we’re in; call on guides and allies; perform a ritual; acknowledge our grief, fear, sadness, loss of income, stability, and identity; and begin to move through the situation.
Last Day at the Job Goodbye Ritual
This ritual should be performed before you walk out of the building for the last time. You can do this if you are choosing to leave a job or if you have been terminated. It takes only a few minutes and can be done without anyone realizing you are doing it.
No supplies or set up are needed.
Ritual: Close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Feel yourself in the place you are. Notice what it feels like to be in the workspace. Notice how your energy is in this place. Take it all in.
Pause and take a moment to say thank you to this space and to your time there. On an exhale, say goodbye.
Pause again and release any connections that you don’t want to take with you. Leave them in your workspace. If you feel called to, shake your body off or flick your hands to let anything go that you don’t need to be bringing along with you.
When you are let go from a job, it’s important to cleanse that job out of your life. This is especially true if your termination was harsh, unexpected, or difficult. This cleansing is best done with at least one other person. Ask your coven, learning circle, or close friend to help you. This cleansing should be done as soon as possible after leaving your workspace. You might find you need to do this cleansing several times, especially if you don’t find employment right away and find yourself dwelling on the job you lost.
Supplies: Cleansing herbs to burn, a firesafe container, a rattle or drum, and a bowl of salt water.
Set Up: Place all supplies on an easy to reach surface.
Ritual: Ask your friend to place the bowl of salt water on the floor. Shake off over the bowl of water. You may also want to place your hands in the water and use the water on your third eye, heart, and belly. Say all the harsh things you’re feeling into the salt water. Shake it off, let it go, and give it to the water.
Set the bowl of water back on the surface and have your friend grab the rattle or drum. Let them shake the rattle or bang the drum all around your body, front and back. Have them pay close attention to any areas of your body where you feel tight, stuck, or pained. Focus may need to be paid to your heart and throat.
When you both feel this step is complete, set down the rattle or drum and pick up the herbs and firesafe container. Light the herbs and let your friend use the smoke in all the areas where you just used the drum or rattle. Take your time with this process, clearing out any last remnants that may be stuck.
When you both feel this step is complete, set down the burning herbs. Have your friend use their hands to fluff your aura or smooth out your spirit body. End this process with a hug and say words of affirmation to each other, such as, “You are all right. You are loved.”
Have your friend take the salt water out of your house and pour it out. Make sure to not pour it on any plants, as salt water will kill plants.
Empty Nest
There comes a time when a family home isn’t filled with as much family anymore. Children grow older and eventually move out, and when they do, a house can seem awfully empty and eerily quiet. While empty nest syndrome isn’t a recognized medical or psychological disorder, the pattern of “symptoms” is consistent. Folks finding themselves at home without the constant interaction and connection to their children report they felt intensely depressed, lonely, and purposeless.14 The feeling of “not having a parental job” anymore is often experienced more acutely by a primary caregiver.
Standing in stark contrast are those empty nesters that feel overjoyed, unburdened, and free for the first time in years. There’s a growing body of research that suggests that far from being overwrought with grief, caregivers find renewed interest in romantic relationships, shared hobbies, and remembering why they fell in love with their partner(s) in the first place.15 To be sure, these folks still miss their children’s presence, but what they probably don’t miss is the constant financial and scheduling constraints, the encroachments on personal privacy that have become routine, and prioritizing others’ before their own.
Regardless of whether you’re jumping for joy at the prospect of an empty home or beset with longing, there is a profound change in the timbre and tone of a home. There is one less person rummaging through drawers or taking a shower or playing guitar in their bedroom, and that has a visceral impact on the environment of the house. With the absence of children come the subsequent absences of particular foods in the fridge; favorite breakfast cereals are no longer purchased every week—in fact, they might not need to be purchased at all. There’s decidedly less laundry detergent used. Your household collection of plates and cups seems all of a sudden to take up far too much space in the cupboard. It is precisely these changes that inform us to conduct a rite of passage ritual.
Becoming Demeter: A Personal Anecdote by Gwion
The room is mostly empty. A strand of Tibetan prayer flags dangles listlessly from a single thumbtack. The white walls are punctuated with tiny pinhole dots, the last reminders of where posters and photos once lived. A thrift store desk, repainted many years ago, sits empty. The lack of homework and hair scrunchies and coins hurriedly deposited there makes it seem even older and somehow smaller.
I’ve placed an offering bowl filled with cleansing herbs in the middle of the room. The bowl seems to float on a sea of beige carpet. The charcoal is lit. A single curling tendril of smoke rises from the center of the bowl and I close the door.
Sometime later I return with a laptop, a monitor, and a tangled mess of cords and plugs. I manage to place everything on the desk, although given the angles and precarious nature of the piles, it seems like it might all fall off at any moment. I sit on the floor, reaching for an extension cord, when my eyes begin to well up. There’s a catch in my throat as I take in far too short of a breath and the tears start. And they continue. You know that kind of crying, right? Taking huge gulps of air, snot running down your face, mixing with the salty wetness pouring down your cheeks … the I’m-a-total-mess kind of crying? Yep. Like that.
A week ago, my daughter (we’ll call her Kore) packed up her stuff and moved out. She’d been planning this for a while. Her boyfriend and a couple of coworkers she attends college with found a place not too far away that was in the right price range and zip code. I carried a few boxes to her car. Perfectly normal. Plenty of smiles. Well wishes. No drama. Exactly the way you’d want a child to leave home.
And then there was that empty room that had somehow become the office that I didn’t want to go into.
You see, Kore had played there in that room. She’d struggled through challenging high school classes and navigated first breakups in that room. She laughed with friends on so many phone calls and hung dried flowers collected from dances and dates on the walls. To most people it’s a simple room in a simple house, but this room was the sunny field in which Kore gathered flowers with her maiden friends.
It would be easy to cast her boyfriend as “the one who receives many guests,” an epithet for Hades, but that would be grossly unfair to him. The immortal that carried Kore away from this room might have been Hades, but if it was, he was disguised as Time or Growing Up. Kore is becoming Persephone. Strong and independent, a sovereign queen in her own right, learning to stand in her own power, absolutely everything a parent could hope for.
But if Hades is really the passage of time and Kore transforms into Persephone, then I too must recognize that there’s a place in this myth for me. I am becoming Demeter. She is gone and I cry. I miss her smile and our walks in the neighborhood where we’d discuss and plot and plan. The daily check-ins about college classes and who is dating whom and what’s on the horizon for her. It literally and physically feels like my daughter has disappeared. And like Demeter, I am bidden by others: “goddess: stop your loud cry of lamentation.” 16 And like Demeter and Persephone, we’ve struck a deal. We have a regularly planned evening together and we hike when our schedules allow and she calls and texts, but still I miss her. When she calls or stops by, it’s like the spring is coming back and all’s right with the world for a while and I can forget that she’ll be headed back to her own queendom soon enough.
There is no chapter in the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting that deals with this. Most of my friends are still coming to terms with sleepless nights and diaper changes and school meetings and playdates; they have no concept of the rite I’m going through. There’s very little in our culture and our myths and our stories of goddesses and gods that tells me what it’s like when the daily work of being a parent suddenly changes and isn’t really needed anymore.
So, I turn to one goddess, Demeter, for she is revealing to me the way to perform the sacred rites of separation. Kore is gone. Persephone is Queen. And I am learning to become Demeter.
Emptying and Filling the Nest: A Ritual
This ritual is for parent(s)/caregiver(s) with a child moving out of the house. If possible, complete this ritual at the closest new moon to when the child moves out or before you redecorate the room. If there is more than one person performing this ritual, determine who will do what pieces ahead of time. This ritual is written for the solitary practitioner, but it can be adjusted as needed.
Supplies: A bowl of salt water, a sprig of rosemary for memory, and a bowl of rose petals for love.
Set Up: Place all the ritual items in the middle of the child’s room if it is empty. If the room is not empty, place all the items on an appropriate surface.
Ritual: Take a moment to ground. Let yourself feel the connection you have to your living space. Breathe deeply and let yourself become fully present.
When you feel ready, pick up the bowl of salt water and rosemary and begin to walk through the house. Stop in each room and share a memory of the child that has moved out; as you do this, use the sprig of rosemary to sprinkle the salt water in each room.
Speak some of your memories aloud. Share funny anecdotes and sad tales. Speak of the good times and some of the challenging ones. Let your memories bubble up and speak them out when they do. You may notice feeling emotional, happy and sad. Let the emotions come as they do. When you return to the child’s room, use the rosemary sprig to sprinkle yourself with the salt water too.
Say, “(Child’s name) is welcome here. The memories of those times are welcome here. We honor the joy and the challenges shared with (child’s name) in this space.”
Now speak from the heart, offering blessings to the child that has moved out. Speak out loud wishes for their success, safety, fun, and joy. When complete, set down the rosemary and bowl of water. Pick up the roses and sprinkle the petals in the room, sending your blessing along with them. Leave them to dry after your ritual is complete. Once they are dry, collect them and save them as a gift of incense for the child.
Speak aloud all of the joy and opportunities for you as an individual that come with this person being out of the house. Will you celebrate more quiet time with your lover? Have fewer food expenses? Will there be a renewed sense of couplehood with your significant other? Share blessings for yourself of what it means to be a person when parenting is not your first job.
If this room is going to be repurposed, speak to what this room will be transformed into. Call out blessings of the energy that this room will hold now that its role has changed shape. For example, if the room is becoming a gym, speak blessings of health and strengthening your body. If the room is going to be an office, speak blessings of creativity, abundance, and success. If the room is not going to be repurposed, speak blessings to the room for it to always be a space where your child can return, a harbor from any storm and a safe place for them to land.
Menopause
For all folks who enter into menstruation, there will come a time when that ends. Menopause is confirmed when an entire year has passed without a full menstrual cycle. For most people that is part of the natural cycle, while for others menopause happens immediately due to a surgical procedure or other health issue.
For some, menopause will be a sweet release, the ending of a long and complicated relationship with their reproductive cycle. Others may find menopause a sad milestone, a leaving behind of their childbearing years. It may feel like freedom and the ending of a long and difficult road. And for others still, facing this shift could bring up a bit of all of these reactions.
The following ritual is for saying goodbye to your menstruation and to allow all of the feelings that you may be holding around that. This ritual would ideally be done when you have gone a full year without a period. Do this ritual during a new moon. It is written for a solitary practitioner. There is a trance with this ritual; record yourself reading it and play it back during the ritual. Make sure to take moments to pause and reflect during the ritual.
Supplies: A black stone, jasmine incense, a bowl of salt water, and an athame.
Set Up: Create a small altar or use an altar you already work with. Place all of the items on the altar space.
Ritual: Light the incense and sprinkle yourself and the entire ritual space with the salt water. When completed, pick up your athame and create a circle around you in a way that feels right in the moment. Set down the athame and pick up the stone. Sit or lie down and place the stone on your womb.
Trance: Allow your body to relax. Breathe in and out, allowing the breath to come as it wants to. As you breathe, allow the edges of your body to soften and expand. Continue to breathe, in and out, slowly and easily. Do this for a few moments.
Place your hands over your womb space with the stone you’ve selected between your hands and your body. Give yourself some time to connect to the moment you first started to bleed. How was that first moment? What stands out? What do you remember?
Allow your mind to drift and wander, connecting with different moments in your life that you think of in regards to your menstruation. What stands out? What do you remember?
Allow your mind to wander to your last menstrual cycle. How was this moment? What stands out? What do you remember?
Connect to the energy of your body right now. You have lived in a physical cycle for so many years, and now the cycle shifts from an external cycle to an internal cycle. The wisdom is held within you now. Connect to the wisdom that is part of your inherent system.
Allow the wisdom of your womb to connect with the wisdom of the stone, a symbol you can hold in your hands as an external representative of the wisdom you also carry within you. Breathe into this partnering between you and the stone, the stone and you.
When you feel ready, begin to call your edges back in. Again, connect into your breath, feeling your body and the edges of your skin. Slowly open your eyes and look around the room, aware of your new wisdom.
Put the stone in a place where you can connect with it anytime you need a reminder that you are connected to the cycles of life. For now, snuff out the candle and the incense and remember that you are wise.
The rite is done. Blessed be.
Loss of a Pet
The death of a loved one is a difficult thing to go through. When that loved one is a pet, it doesn’t make things any easier. Animal companions are family members, and bonds with them run just as deep as the bonds held with human family. When a pet dies, people still go through the grief process.
The loss of a pet in modern society is an interesting thing. There are some people who will understand your grief. They will hold your sadness or let you take off work or treat your grieving as if a human family member had passed. But that’s not most reactions. For the most part, people expect the grief of a pet to just pass. There will be more of an expectation to hurry up and “get over it.” The lack of empathy from others can be just as painful as the loss. Most companies don’t offer their employees bereavement time when they lose a pet. We’ve known people who have shared the loss of their pet with others by saying they lost a family member and leaving it as vague as possible. And truly, that is what it is.
For centuries, cultures across the globe have had loving and devotional relationships with animals. Pharaohs mummified cats to keep them company when they went to the Underworld. In Siberia, people were buried with their dogs. In China, horses were given elaborate burials and arranged carefully in graveyards.17 One could argue humans and animals have always been connected like family; humans are animals, after all.
There is the added burden of choosing to end the life of your pet. Depending on the circumstances, you may be able to end your beloved’s pain or suffering. It’s never an easy choice to euthanize a pet, and it’s not a choice all people will make, but it is an option you have. If you are struggling with grief, look at the section on death and the grief process later in this chapter.
Phoenix’s Loss of Bearclaw
My longest relationship with a male being was my black cat Bearclaw. I met him when he was about a year old and he lived to about seventeen. He was such a good boy, my Mr. Kitty. He was sweet and loving and just a little bit stupid. I swear he could fly. He was able to jump higher than any other cat I’ve seen, and he could hover. Like, he could hang in the air for several seconds, no joke. It was incredible.
Like all living things, over the years he slowly deteriorated. We changed his food and did as much as we could to keep him going. It was important that he was not only comfortable, but having a somewhat happy existence. The aging process continued and he started to get sick, and then he got sicker. I knew when it was time to take him to the vet for his final visit. He told me. He told me by how he looked at me, how his energy was gone, how he seemed to be in constant discomfort. He wasn’t the same boy I’d known for such a long time. There was no voice in my head or anything like that, but his message was clear. He was struggling and unhappy. I didn’t want that for him.
On the way to the veterinarian’s office, I sang him songs and spoke in a soft voice. I told him who would be waiting for him on the other side. I called upon the Egyptian goddess Bastet to help guide the way. I stayed with him as the vet gave him the medicine that would slow his heart, telling him all the while what a wonderful companion he was and how grateful I was for being a part of his life.
It was terribly painful afterward, but it was also a relief. An ailing pet takes a lot of work. He needed a lot more help than our other pets near the end of his life; he was incontinent and required special food and medicine that was a challenge to administer. The relief that came with his death also left me feeling a bit guilty. I didn’t think I should feel relief over not having that responsibility anymore, and yet, I did.
It’s been a few years now and I still miss him. I occasionally see him out in the world; I’ll think I see him in the corner of my eye, but when I turn and look there is nothing there. I also see black cats with his same build. I always say, “Hi, Bearclaw!” I take these moments as messages that he is checking in on things.
After the loss of a pet, it can be difficult to immediately ritualize the process. You might be deep in your grief and unable to face the ceremony. This ritual doesn’t need to happen on any specific timeline unless that is important to you. This could be done at the vet’s office, with your beloved after they have passed, or months later. Do this ritual when it feels most important and possible for you. If you want to perform this ritual but you can’t handle the process due to your grief, reach out to friends or loved ones to help you complete the ceremony.
This ritual should be done with anyone you feel called to include. It is best if other family members that may also have had a relationship with your pet are present.
Supplies: A candle and an image of your pet.
Set Up: Create an altar in any fashion that you choose. Put the image of your pet in the middle with the candle behind it.
Ritual: Take a moment to ground and center yourself before starting this process. If there are several people participating in the ritual together, breathe together three times, slowly and deeply.
If called to create sacred space, do so, but it isn’t necessary. Call upon any guides, guardians, or beloved dead that you may want to help your pet cross over. Ask your beloved dead to welcome their new member with open arms. Let them know your pet has crossed and their time has come, and ask them to help with the transition.
When you feel ready, light the candle. Speak out loud to your beloved pet. Tell them how much their relationship meant to you. Wish them well on their journey.
Take as much time as you need. Let the emotions come as they might. When you feel ready, say goodbye to your pet, then thank your beloved dead for witnessing your rite and helping your pet to cross over.
As a final step to close the ritual, blow out the candle. Leave the altar space set up until you feel ready to put it away. We keep our beloved pets’ ashes and pictures on our ancestor altar. If you feel called to do the same, transition your pet’s image from the altar to your ancestor altar.
If your pet dies at home, or if you decide to bring their body home from the vet, you have the option of doing a gravesite ritual. There is a practical matter that must be mentioned here: not all yards can work for pet burial. Not everyone has a yard. That doesn’t make your situation any better or worse. We used the following ritual to place our beloved’s ashes on our ancestor altar, which is a perfectly fine adjustment if need be; we didn’t have the opportunity to bury our pets because of our yard being mostly clay.
You’ll need to be aware of the depth of the hole you will need to dig. There are very real physical issues you have to consider, especially the more rural the environment you live in. Confirm the location of buried utility lines so you don’t accidentally damage them. Make sure that you research the appropriate depth required for safely placing your dead. There may be restrictions where you live on burying pets in your yard. Check to make sure you aren’t breaking any laws before performing this ritual.
Choose a song ahead of time that you want to sing during the burial process. There is a song offering in the next section dealing with human death.
Supplies: The body of your beloved pet, an appropriate space dug in the ground, enough muslin fabric to wrap your beloved, a bundle of your favorite dried herbs, and a bunch of flowers.
Set Up: Create the space in your yard that will hold your pet ahead of time. Once it’s ready, determine if you will do the entire ritual outside or move it outside after you begin.
Ritual: Speak to your beloved dead. Offer your appreciation for them sharing a part of your life. Tell stories and remember them. As you do this, wrap their body in the muslin fabric.
Start singing and place your beloved pet into the earth. Place the dried herbs on top of their body and continue singing while filling in the hole. When you are done, place the flowers on top of the grave. Let the song come to a natural conclusion. Say anything left in your heart to say and end the rite.
Death
There are only two rites of passage everyone experiences: being born and dying. Even though everyone goes through this rite, most people won’t get to honor the transition. Most death rites are done for the living, the loved ones left behind, and not for the person who has died. Included in this section are rituals for those dying and for those in mourning.
The additional complication with death rites of passage in a Pagan context is that there are many diverse Pagan systems of belief. There isn’t one unifying faith on what happens after death; the mystery is totally open for personal interpretation. In some Pagan traditions, there is a belief in reincarnation. Some look to the Summerlands, afterlife, or Valhalla, while others believe that their body simply returns to the earth and any awareness it had is gone. Death is the greatest mystery everyone faces; we won’t know anything about it until our time comes.
As mentioned previously, there isn’t one way that Pagans or Witches honor the dead or work with death as a magickal practice. However, it is rather universal that we honor our ancestors and lineages. We pay homage to those who have gone before. When we have a loss from death, we celebrate the life of the person at Samhain or Samhain-tide. We tell stories of them and salute with phrases like “Hail the goer” or “What is remembered lives.”
Death Ritual for the One Who Is Getting Ready to Die
Have you ever heard of a living wake? Basically, a living wake is a party to honor a person who knows their time on this earth will be ending soon. Rather than waiting for death to celebrate the individual and say nice things about them, why not take the opportunity to share that with them while they are still alive? Typically, living wakes are done for a person with terminal illness who has a clearer picture of when death is likely to come for them.
A living wake is not for everyone. Facing death isn’t easy. Modern society doesn’t really handle death well; it is upsetting for those who aren’t even going through the process of dying. But, what better way to send someone to the Otherworlds than with the love and blessings of all those who know them best in life? It is a celebration of their life and they get to be a part of it.
In my opinion, the person being celebrated at a living wake should get to make the decision on how the event proceeds. This is not a good ritual to do as a surprise; the person being celebrated should be aware the event is happening. This is not the type of event to plan on someone else’s behalf. The person being celebrated may not want to plan all the specifics of the event so they may delegate them to another person, but they need to be a part of the planning process.
A living wake can be a big party, a ritual, or both. The ritual included here is a bit of a combination of the two. The event can be set up for as small or large a crowd as desired. This ritual can be done in a big event center, a small home, or even in a hospice room. Adjust the size and scope of the ritual for the actual reality of the person who is preparing to cross over.
You will need a “stage” area where you will place an altar table and have room for participants to come up and share their stories. You will need a large comfy place for the celebrant to sit; this will be referred to as their throne.
This ritual should be performed while the celebrant is still well enough to enjoy the moment. For this ritual, you will need a person to act as host. This will be noted as Ritualist in the ritual notes.
Supplies: A small altar table, four candles, and the celebrant’s favorite incense.
Set Up: Place the four candles on the altar table based on the directions of north, east, south, and west. Leave the incense burning in the center of the candles.
Ritual: When all the guests are seated, Ritualist goes to the front of the room at the altar table. Ritualist says, “Thank you all for gathering here to celebrate the life of (name). Each of us here has something in common, and that is the love we share for (name). Today we get to share our love with each other and with (name).”
Ritualist lights all the candles and incense. Ritualist holds the incense up and, if appropriate, uses the incense smoke to cleanse the space and the celebrant. Ritualist says, “We use this smoke today as an offering to (name). May this smoke cleanse and clear this space, these people, and (name) for the celebration of life that we are stepping into.”
Ritualist sets down the incense and gestures to the four lit candles. Ritualist says, “Today we call upon the four quarters, the mighty ones of the elements. We ask for the powers of earth, air, fire, and water to join this ritual. We ask that the guides and guardians of (name) join this ritual. We ask that the ancestors join this ritual.”
Space is made for the celebrant (or their chosen delegates) to make any specific callings to deities, ancestors, or other specific allies.
Ritualist says, “Now is the time when each of us that love (name) get to come up here and say why. We invite you to share a story or a memory. We invite you to share what is special about your relationship with (name). Consider this sharing a blessing to (name) as they prepare to go on their next great adventure.”
Space is made for participants to come up and speak. This may take some time. Ritualist will need to monitor the ebb and flow of this process and give people
time to come up and say their piece. This will come to a natural conclusion.
Finally, space is made for the celebrant to step forward and speak, if they choose to. This will need to be determined before the event.
When the speaking pieces come to a natural conclusion, Ritualist will return to the altar space, first inviting up anyone who did a calling at the beginning of the ritual to step forward and thank the spirits invited in. Ritualist will then extinguish the candles, thanking the directions and the guardians of the elements for being present in the rite.
Death Ritual for the One Who Has Died
This ritual is for magickal practitioners only. If you’ve lost a coven member or magickal ally, this ritual can be performed to honor their transition and help them cross over. Ideally, this ritual should be done within three days after the beloved’s death. If you have access to any of their magickal tools (and you know they would agree to this), these should be used in the ritual. At the very least, their items should be placed on the altar.
Determine ahead of time who will lead which pieces of the ritual. It is best to split up the roles, but the ritual can be led by one or two people if that is what is preferred by the group. The roles of the ritual will all be written for Ritualist, but these can be split amongst several people if desired. If there is a traditional way for the group to create sacred space, follow that process. Otherwise sacred space can be created from the following ritual.
Supplies: The beloved’s ritual tools, picture of the beloved dead, lots of food and drink for after the ritual, and two large candles.
Set Up: Create an altar with all the supplies listed, except for the food and drink. Have the food set up outside of the ritual space to be partaken in after the ritual is done.
Ritual: All participants come together and ground. This can be as formal or informal as the group requires. It is likely that emotions will be running strong, so a longer formal grounding would be helpful.
Ritualist lights one of the candles, saying, “For (beloved dead’s name). We light this candle in honor of our last ritual with you. May this light help guide your way and serve as a symbol of the love we have in our hearts.”
Ritualist picks up the beloved dead’s athame. (If that isn’t possible, use the first two fingers of the dominant hand.) Draw up energy from the bones of the earth and direct that energy to the north, drawing an invoking pentacle. Then continue sending that energy around you as you circle to the east, draw an invoking pentacle. Continue this process to the south, the west, and the north again. Visualize your circle completing itself around you, filled with the power and protection of the ancestors.
Ritualist calls to the ancestors and the Mighty Dead. If there are specific ancestors or Mighty Dead your group always call, make sure to include them. Otherwise, call to those Witches who have crossed over that are ready and willing to aid your beloved dead find their way.
Ritualist calls to any deities that the beloved dead would want called. If you are uncertain or if there were no deities your beloved dead worked with, skip this piece. Speak from the heart, asking for this deity to help your beloved dead cross over and join the realm of the ancestors.
Ritualist lights the second candle and says, “For the ancestors and the gods to help (beloved dead’s name) find their way to the realms beyond.”
Each member of the circle now has an opportunity to speak to the beloved dead or to speak about them. This is a moment to share feelings, stories, and wisdom that came from the one that has passed. This may take a long time, or it may be very brief. Allow the space needed without attempting to rush it or slow it down.
If the group knows the desires of the beloved dead with respect to their tools, this should now be discussed. Where do the tools go? If anyone in the group has been bequeathed the tools, they should take them now. If this unknown, follow any of the legal rules around belongings for your state.
The group sings the song “Bone by Bone” by Sefora Janel Ray.
Bone by bone I honor you
Bone by bone I honor you (repeat)
I lay you down, for all that you’ve been through
I lay you down, and promise to remember you
Allow the song to move your body. Sing, letting the song build energy. Send this energy to your beloved dead and help them cross over to the ancestral realms. Let the song carry energy and raise a cone of power. Send energy to your beloved dead. Send it as a blessing, a boon, a love song, and a sending off.
When this comes to a natural conclusion, end by all stating, “What is remembered lives.”
It is time to close the ritual and move to a more informal eating and “hanging out” time. There may be hesitation to stop. Closing the ritual may feel like a door closing and a final step in saying goodbye. This is exactly what is happening. If the group notices this hesitation, speak about it. Say what needs to be said, but move forward and close the circle.
Ritualist who called to the beloved dead’s deities speaks out loud their gratitude and thanks for their support in the ritual.
Ritualist who called to the ancestors speaks out loud their gratitude and thanks for their support in the ritual.
Ritualist who cast the circle (or Ritualist who now possesses the beloved dead’s athame) steps into the center of the space and breathes into the circle. Remember as you release the circle, you are also releasing your beloved dead. Face north and draw a banishing pentacle. Turn to the west, as if drawing back a curtain with the athame, and draw a banishing pentacle. Continue this process to the south and then the east, ending with the final banishing pentacle being performed in the north.
Ritualist: “The circle is open but unbroken, and merry we shall meet again.”
Continue the gathering by eating the food and sharing more stories about your beloved dead. Let the gathering continue as long as it feels appropriate. Ideally, you would not call on your beloved dead for another year unless it is Samhain, which is a highly appropriate time to honor their crossing.