Unearthing Resiliency with Plant Kin ft. Lupita Tineo

Tender heart, let’s take a moment to honor the grief in the world right now. As many continue to witness and aim to end multiple genocides, how is your heart, and in what ways are you allowing your grief to arise? With the continued and unnecessary extinguishing of human and more-than-human life right now in Palestine, Sudan, Congo, and more, you might find yourself going to bed and rising with the weight of this grief heavy in your heart. I know I do and that I’m not alone in this.

In today’s episode with my guest and dear friend, Lupita Tineo of Yolia Botanica, we’ll explore how we continue to navigate the grief and blessings of being alive and reflect on how forming emotional connections with our plant family can help expand our resiliency during intense grief. 

If you feel like you’re resiliency is waning, this is normal, rest, acknowledge, but please come back. It’s as important as ever that we remain steadfast in raising our voices, especially from places of privilege, to speak out against what’s happening and not turn away.

The weight of the world is too much for one body to hold or fix and you are not intended to do it alone. There are beings, seen and unseen, human and more than human available to help us root deeper into our resiliency. 

I trust you are doing your best to be with the grief and blessings of this moment while also rising to the continued calls to speak out against what’s happening. It takes all of us so. If you’re hungry for deeper resiliency, I hope you’ll stay and listen. 

Let’s get into this bounty of wisdom. Here’s more about my dear friend, Lupita Tineo, and her shop, Yolia Botanica.

Yolia Botanica is woman-owned and operated, blending Mexican curanderismo and paganism to provide respectful alternatives that help people take care of their spiritual bodies. Our products are created for modern brujas of all levels with the foundation of respecting sacred herbs, tribes, and practices. At Yolia Botanica, we don’t currently work with white sage or palo santo. Instead, we provide appropriate options that respect the life of the plant and the sanctity of spiritual traditions, specifically of Indigenous peoples of the Americas. Everything is made by Guadalupe aka Lulu, who was born and raised in Sonora, Mexico, and is on a reclaiming and reconnecting journey to her Indigenous ancestry. 

Here’s our chat. Click below to listen. Keep scrolling to read the transcript.

Cassie: Welcome, my dear friend, Lulu, to the show. I'm so happy to have you here. Finally. 

Lupita: Thank you. Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate it. We went around for months.

Cassie: I know, we did, but we made it happen. I always like to start off by just asking you a little bit about your lineage, and that could be your ancestry, your teaching lineage, or anything that you feel like you want to speak about what's shaped who you are today and your work.

Lupita: I was born in Ciudad Obregón, Sonora, and this particular city in Sonora has the County name of Cajeme, which is really something that fills me with pride. I'm like, yes, it might not be the city's name, but it's the county's name. Cajemé was an Indigenous warrior who, in the 1900s, was part of, I guess you could say, the war that happened against the Yaqui people.

So this one has a lot of story. Cajemé County is vast, not just to Ciudad Obregón. It covers a bunch of other small towns around it. The primary tribe that resides in this area is the Mexican Yaquis. or the Yoeme. We do have the, I guess you could say, other side of the border. Yaqui, which are called the Pascua Yaqui.

Unfortunately, they are divided by a border now. And so they have different benefits, and they do have different conditions of life because of this. So Cajemé was an Indigenous warrior who, when the Spanish came. And they took over Mexico. Now we're talking about the early 1900s; the Mexican government was still fighting the indigenous people.

Okay. They still wanted to take their lands and deplete their resources. And so they were the very same Mexicans who primarily Spanish leaders led at this time, were on a hunt for the resources of the Yaqui, which is southern, central, west of Sonora, it covers a very large portion of Sonora because then we start entering the Arizona tribes and he had been contracted by one of them, a Spanish legislator to lead a Mexican army into the lands and pretty much kill them all and take their land.

Cajemé wasn't for anyone he had grown up in poverty. He did what he had to and for whom he had to do it, but he learned of this person's true goal, which was to eradicate the Yaqui tribe. They wanted to completely erase them so that there would be no trace so that there would be no one to give land back to ever.

Cajemé, being of this tribe, I guess, you know, people change, turned on this man who paid him a lot of money to lead their Mexican army, and he got together with the leaders of the Yaqui tribe and taught them what the plan was. And Cajemé had been In a lot of wars, a lot of fights, a lot of guerrilla groups.

So, he knew a lot about fighting and defending. What the Yaquis didn't have weapons, but Cajemé taught them how to make them with rocks, sticks, city, and arrowheads, all of the good stuff. To make it short, they succeeded in this battle. Unfortunately, it was not for long until a bigger army was sent that ended up slaughtering that whole village, which is where Sula Lobregón is now.

And so the County was named after Cajemé. Because of what he had done, of what he had stood for the Yaqui communities, his own community, so I, I like to think that I'm from Cajeme and not from Ciudad Obregón, because Ciudad Obregón is named after that very same legislator who slaughtered the entire region, of the Yaqui tribe, and There's a really amazing documentary on YouTube called Yaqui's, it's a Mexican man who goes on a very extensive history search for the landmarks, the stories and the evidence of a genocide against the Yaqui people, which lasted approximately 44 to 46 years.

This is one of the longest persecutions against an indigenous tribe. We're not talking about, oh, they slaughtered them for 10 years straight. And that was it. It went on for four decades, and it is very heartbreaking because we see in the documentary how the communities are now living because of this, the scraps of resources that they have to live with, how they unite and they stick together, and they're still teaching their children their native tongue, and Spanish is their second tongue.

And so it's this beautiful rendition of pain and persecution and the unity that follows into the very few. Yaqui people that remain today. So that's where a lot of my lineage comes from. Whether my mom's side, primarily Spanish, has any ties to that. I'm not sure, but my dad's side for sure has it.

I was able to find a picture from my dad's family, which is the oldest picture we were able to date, which is from around 1948. So, up until 1948, we have nothing prior. We have no records, we have no pictures, we have no idea of the names of people or where they were from. And there's a picture of this woman who would have been my father's side, my grandmother's great-grandmother.

And you look at this woman, and you say, This is an indigenous woman, but my dad's family didn't grow up that way. My dad's family grew up, I guess, not seeing themselves as indigenous. They saw themselves as

the rejection of society, the dark ones, the short ones, the ugly ones. And I know this because my dad's sister, whom I'm very, very close to, till this day, she'll call herself names, and she's this short little dark brown woman who got polio as a child.

And so she has a hump on her back, and she was she's the most amazing woman I know. And to hear her talk about herself in that sense, not acknowledging the beautiful culture and richness that she comes from rather. Forcing on herself the derogatory things that society has told her. My aunt praises white people. Okay? I'm not kidding. She adores white skin.

She adores blonde hair. And she's always dreamed of being like that. Because she says it is the most beautiful skin and hair on earth that she will never have. I was little, I could tell you like flashbacks of her just saying things, and she didn't say it in like a pity me. Way, she would just say it because she really believed it.

And so I grew up hearing about her brown skin, dark hair, and features. And so it does things to a child on my mom's side. My grandmother is very light-skinned. She has no hair anywhere. And so I remember my grandmother. Always pointing things out. Oh, look at your dark knees. Look at your dark elbows.

Look how hairy you are. Me and my sister and comparing our skin color to hers 

or her families again, not in a way of making us. I don't think she ever really meant to hurt us, right? It's usually how it happens, but that's what she did. And then here we have my aunt. Where do we lie? Where is there a positive for our existence, our identity, and our body?

There wasn't. There wasn't. There were negative sides coming from the light-skinned people side, negative things being said and pointed out for as long as we can remember because we were dark because our features were different because we had more hair, dark hair at that. And then my aunt, who looked like us, who looked more like us, saying what she had, what she looked like, was the worst of the worst.

So you build these foundations. Off of that, you internalize it, and then you live your life like that. Having internalized all of that colorist, racist, discriminatory. Language all of our lives. So that's more of who I am, where I come from, but also what it meant for me growing up, what that did not really have pride in an identity, not really having to belong to an identity because I wasn't Mexican enough.

I wasn't white enough. Wasn't indigenous enough. There was nothing that I could be enough of. But now, as I'm older, I've reclaimed a lot of things, and you know this: I've reclaimed a lot of things. I've reclaimed many things that brought me shame, starting with my name, which is Guadalupe, and Guadalupes in Mexico are called Lupitas.

And more often now, I try to introduce myself as Lupita because I know where Lulu came from, and it came from a lot of self-hatred. And embarrassment and shame because people couldn't pronounce my name and that brought me a lot of shame, having to assimilate into this country and have a name like that.

I was just the sorest thumb sticking out always and then being the fresh kid that didn't speak English and was brown and hairy. So when people say tell me about who you are, tell me about where you come from. I can't point out all the beautiful things 1st, although I'm grateful for them, although it's taken me a really long time to see and appreciate them.

Now, it didn't become pretty for a very long time, so always the harshest parts for me have to be acknowledged so that we can really understand where a lot of our neighbors come from as far as emotional and mentality. Goes we don't come from a place of acceptance and that can really hinder the way that we connect in the way that we live our lives.

And when I say I am from Sonora, I am Mexican-born and raised. That also comes with the territory of, I don't know who I am, and I'm having to define that, and I'm having to find it, having to yank it out, because it's right under me. It's right under me. 

Cassie: Thank you so much. 

Lupita: You're welcome.

Cassie: I know some of your story, but I don't know all of your story, and I did not know about the history of the Yaqui people. I'm really grateful to you for sharing that with me. I will find the YouTube video, and I'll share a link in the show notes for this episode, so if other people want to look at that, they can. (Click here to watch the Yaqui documentary Lulu references.)

Lupita: It's subtitled in English, too. He does have a book. It's called Yaqui. I don't know if that one's translated, but It's a great documentary. It really puts in perspective a lot of the communities here in Arizona.

We don't know a lot of this history, and so we don't understand. White people are the way they are. Yeah. Or why our communities are the way they are. We're sadder than ever, more disconnected than ever. There's a loss of identity that persists beyond measure. And it comes from things like that comes from persecutions of decades, of generational trauma.

And, it never needs a lot of attention. It just needs people willing to listen. You don't have to go shout it to the world, but what you do need to do is absorb it so that we can be that one little domino chip that bumped the next. And even if there is a lot of space between the next chip, we just want to inspire.

You might not touch people enough that you knock them down to keep doing the ripple effect, but you might inspire them. Because that pressure is big, that the pressure of making justice for everyone, it's big. 

Cassie: Thank you for rooting us into your truth as a starting place and bringing all of that in all of its grief and tenderness here. Because it is so important, and I'm just so honored to know you and to bear witness to your journey, and I always have been, so it's a real honor to be able to share it with others. 

Lupita: Thank you. I appreciate you.

Cassie: I appreciate you. I know; we're just having a little love-cry fest over here. Don't mind. Oh, we go back. 

Lupita: Yeah. I think that surfaces a lot when we talk. Yes. 

Cassie: I would love to hear a little bit about the land and your connection to the land. And this is a practice that, was inspired by Dra. Rocio Rosales Meza. That is to share a little bit about what the land is teaching you and speaking to you right now.

And I know that your connection to the land is deep. So, I would love to hear a little bit about it at this moment in time. 

Lupita: It's quite an amazing journey to think, oh, there's nothing in the desert. And then you go looking, and you find how much power and life and energy are actually here. The Sonoran Desert is one of the harshest environments, but it's also a very diverse environment.

We have high sierras, mountains, which absorb a lot of the rain and that feed with beautiful green luscious hills, the wildlife encourages our to bloom. If you go south into Mexico, you'll find the, which are a type of cactus that is spiny rather than the saguaros, which are one big and thick with arms. Each part of the Sonoran Desert has something really beautiful and unique about it. And depending on how high or how low the elevation is, The elevation will give you a gem. You'll find the pitayas in higher elevations, but you'll find creosote in lower elevations. And you know my obsession with creosote.

I don't know that anybody has more fascination with it more than I do. I know many people love its medicinal properties and the intoxicating smell. Of creosote when it rains and it comes into contact with water, but I don't think people, a lot of people, understand the energetic and magical representation creosote has for me. And this is where we talk about why creosote is so amazing.

I'll give you some fun facts which you already know. But creosote can go without water for up to two years. There is a creosote bush found right on the verge of the Sonoran Desert and the Mojave Desert, which crosses into a little bit of California. And this bush is named King Clone, and it's approximately 12,000 years old.

The scientists who studied this bush believed it to be one of the oldest organisms on Earth that's still standing. And you wonder, wow, how does it do that? So can survive some of the harshest environments and harshest droughts because it stores water in the root system. The root system of a creosote bush is a fighter it up roots, other smaller bushes and preserves its strength because it wants more water. And so it'll eliminate smaller bushes by pushing them up and out from the roots. It tries to take over the bigger the roots, the more water it can store. So I love to think of creosote as a symbol of perseverance.

And a symbol of strength, prosperity, because of that root system, and I always say this, what an amazing thing it would be for us to be so well established and so rooted that everything we have and need to continue through the harshest of environments is right in our roots that sustain us, that hold us.

That feeds us, and that guides us. And so the creosote bush really brings that element for me. I think if I could embody a little bit of what creosote is in my human form, I could touch a lot of people. And I try to, I'm trying to expand this root system and to strengthen my root system so that when harsh environments come again, because they will, I will know that I can continue because my roots uphold me and because my roots will make me go through this, And I just can't think of a better way to experience the desert, if not for creosote bush.

Besides its medicinal properties, creosote has taught me not to judge a book by its cover. It still has so much to offer, even in its dormant form. Indigenous people, as much as Arizona, as much as Sonora, burn the creosote branches as an insect repellent when it's in dormant stages. It's, You know, you look at it when it's cold, and you're like, that is 1 ugly plant because it goes brown, and it it almost looks like it got burned, but it isn't.

It's just dry. It's, it's sleeping. And then the 1st little sign of spring approaches, and it starts to scrap these little tiny green leaves off of those ugly. Brown, dry branches like you would think these branches are dead, but they're not and I see it every spring when it starts to sprout those little green babies, and it new leaves coming in new blooms, new arms, it regenerates itself so amazingly, and it needs nothing, and it needs no one, but it also thrives.

In a community space, because some of the creosotes will connect roots and will help each other in storing water and feeding on themselves through the drought. So I can't find a better example of life than a creosote bush.

Cassie: I love hearing you talk about creosote, and I just want to sing your praises for a moment because they're. I have creosote all over my house. You introduced me to creosote, and I developed a real love of it. I love the smell of it. I love it in the shower. I have your creosote oil. To that, I love to use. So thank you for introducing me to this plant and to all of the listeners because it's so prevalent in the Southwest, too. 

Lupita: It's an emotional attachment to, for a lot of people. If you're not from here, then Korea started. It's like this funky, musky smell.

But for people who have been here for a long time, I've lived here for 20 years, and there's a lot more creosote here than where I live. And where I was born and raised, because I'm really close to the coast, to the Gulf of California. So it's a lot more beachy, a lot more humid and Curioso doesn't like that, so we would have to drive.

Two or three hours out of where I live to find creosote. And we did this because it was medicinal. My grandmother would mash it up and with mix it with other herbs. Another herb, I'm not sure what it's called in English, but in Spanish it's called golondrina and it's literally a weed. It's this little weed that if you plant some plants in your pots and use some of the soil that is here.

You're going to get one of these little plants, and it's tiny, grows out of the dirt, spreads out, and has tiny little circular leaves. So my grandma would grab Golondrina creosote and mash it until it got nice and juicy and sticky, because creosote exudes like a wax from the leaves.

And when we were little, again, I was born and raised in Mexico. There was no chickenpox vaccine for us. So we got chickenpox. And I remember my back being covered in little blisters, and the itchiness was insane. And I just remember my grandmother couldn't handle the whining. And she just rubbed that piece all over our backs.

I think my sister got chicken pox first, and then about a week ish, I got it. And so we have to take two trips to find the creosote. And when we found it, my dad was with us, and my dad told my grandmother. Who is my maternal grandmother? Her name is Sylvia. And my dad said, Sylvia, you can't take from the bushes that are dormant.

You have to take from the green trees. And my grandma said, why? My dad said I don't know. That's just what I've been told. And I carried that with me for a really long time, and I didn't realize I had. That question lingered until a few years ago when I started to work with my career. So this was around 2018.

You don't take from a dormant tree just like you wouldn't take from an ill person. You take from the bush, the branch that's healthier because that means it's strong enough to regenerate and it's strong enough to recuperate from whatever you're taking. And my dad said, do you have a coin because we have to leave something?

And she was like, no, I don't have anything. My grandpa drove us. My grandpa was a smoker. Is a smoker, and my dad's, oh, let's go ask Ernesto if he can give us a cigarette, and my grandma said for what he said, you have to give something, and the conversation seemed like you should know this already.

But my dad grew up in a very small town, four hours, four and a half hours north of where I was. And so we found a lot more creosote there. Because it's closer to the lower elevation, more dry desert, he had a lot more interactions and experience with creosote than my grandmother did.

And that's what he had been told. That's what his mother told him. And so he was just doing it, but my grandmother didn't know. And through time, I learned, about respecting the bush, respecting the shrub. And when I talked to my dad about it, I asked him, Papi, do you remember when we got chicken pox?

And he was like, how could I forget? And I said, do you remember that you were looking for something to give to the bush? And he's, yeah, I remember. So your grandpa ended up putting up a fight for the cigarette, but he's he gave it to me. And I was like, yeah, I was like, do you know why you did that?

He said, it's I didn't want to argue with your grandmother, but You're supposed to give something to the bush. And I was like, okay, do you know why you're supposed to give something? He was like, I don't know. It's it's like a thank you, I think. And I realized my dad has always been really intuitive about those things but also really doubtful.

Like he knew, but didn't know. And I think a lot of us have that, just, but we don't trust it enough. And I shared with him, I said, I've been reading a lot about Creosote, Sonoran Desert, and, I, I'm working with a lot of energy and things like that, so it's an exchange, Dad, it's an exchange.

You're giving something because you're taking something. He's, oh, he's okay. Going to the store, and I was like, sure, he's you give them money, and you get something. And I was like, yeah, sure. That's fine. That's as far as we're going to get.

It's one of those cute little moments of enlightenment of how early the medicine started, how early the practice has started. And we Mexicans do things without knowing why. Or knowing where because that's been lost. The oral sharing, the oral tradition, and then if we do have a little bit of it, it was taboo, don't talk about it, because people are going to think you're a witch.

And we can't call it that. We can't call it brujería. We call it holistic or natural. We can't call it anything. And if you say curandera, you're right there with the witches. 

Cassie: the plight of the witches. It's so prevalent across so many cultures. 

Lupita: So it's a conundrum. Yeah. How do we praise what has always been persecuted and shamed? And we live in that constantly. I find Creosote to be non-binary. I grew up with it being called a feminine name, and when we moved here, it was called a masculine name. And I found that very interesting, and I thought, huh, in Spanish, Spanish has male and female.

So in Spanish, creosote was named the governess or the little stinker 'cause it's very potent. Both of went, which end in a, which is female, RA. So when we moved here and I found people called it. Or creosote or greasewood. I said, those are all male. And then it was just that, that it didn't have to be either or, that it could be both, that it can be a healer and also a conduit of strength.

Cassie: I love that and just, I'm looking at a bundle that I have from you now, and I feel that same energy of it is both. 

Lupita: Yeah. It is. It really is. The way it comes to. Share the healing benefits. It wants to embrace and connect through its healing benefits, but also in the way that it stands up to show its strength and its dominance and its masculine energy of protection and perseverance.

It just pushes through. So, I love the duality. I love the coexistence of the energies because it doesn't have to be one or the other. It can coexist. It can be both. And I think that acknowledges its existence very well. Mhm. For how we see it in different cultures. Because, like how I just mentioned, I grew up with it being feminine, and I've learned to see it as that when I need to, when I'm in my Spanish self, it's feminine.

And when I'm in my English self, it's masculine. Yeah, it meets you where you're at. It really does. Yeah. 

Cassie: I love the story about your, dad coaching your grandma into like how to work with the plants and leave an offering that is such a. Beautiful story 

Lupita: and with a cigarette.

Cassie: Yeah. And I love that you could circle back and connect with him about that, like how healing. I imagine that might have been for both of you. 

Lupita: He said things made a lot of sense. he doesn't remember who taught or told him. He said it was just what everyone did, that you must leave something.

And he was like, when I was a little boy, I had to get some. And all I had on me was a piece of gum, and I left a piece of gum. And I was like, we go back to intention is everything. It really is. Now, having good intentions doesn't excuse ignorance, right? But it helps us get there. It helps us get to a better place of understanding and education for sure because having good intentions is like a foundation of embarking on the right path towards this kind of learning and this kind of living.

But my dad's intentions were right. The education just wasn't. Knowledge wasn't. They never really learned those things. I'm sure somewhere down the line, there was an older woman telling people why, but she was probably labeled as a witch, and then people saw that, and so they stopped sharing that information because they didn't want to be labeled like that woman, so we stopped sharing.

Cassie: Yeah, but the practices persevered.

Lupita: Yes, they do.

Cassie: We have a little bit of time left, and it's funny, I wanted to talk to you about grief and working with plants, and though we haven't named that, it's woven throughout the entire conversation, which I'm not surprised about, but I would love if there is anything that's coming to mind about how you've worked with plants.

Your personal grief, or how you know, because, as I mentioned in the intro, you have a store where you're able to tend to your community and offer your plant medicine, like, how does grief arise? How is grief tended? And how does working? Alongside these different plants, you work with, help support and facilitate that.

Lupita: There is an emotional attachment that guides a lot of what I use. And I've honed in on this emotional attachment to things because I have to understand what it means to me first. And this is something that I talk to people a lot about. Why am I going to use something? That has no connection to me.

Why will I implement something into my life that invokes no feeling? No memory. No sensation whatsoever. There are a lot of beautiful native plants. In Sonora, one of them is creosote, which we grew up with, but most are from all over the world. Chamomile is German or Egyptian, cinnamon, Indonesia, and these herbs have an emotional connection to me because this is what I remember my Abuelita making in the kitchen as a child.

This is what I remember. My aunt's making for me when I had a tummy ache. And so I know there is a lot of herbs that have energetic and physical tending to the heart.

But I think also being at peace with what you're consuming and using because of the emotional peace it brings does a lot of things, too. And if that's cinnamon, then so be it. If that's basil for you, basil your way through, girl. They're natural. They're going to either unbloat you, or help with the nervousness, or help relax the shit out of you, or help you go poop.

There are some amazing benefits. But what does it do to you emotionally? What feelings does it invoke when you smell it, when you touch it, when you drink it, when you cook it, when you burn it? Our emotions can really derail us, but our emotions can also ground us, and our emotions can guide us. I think for the last few years, I really embraced more of What herbs emotionally do for me, whether they are attributed to that or not.

I think chamomile is a staple for a lot of Mexican families, and chamomile has just been that homie for me that whether I'm sad, stressed, or tired, I'm going to have a cup of chamomile. I don't know if there is any specific herb that I would recommend, per se, that is, oh, that one is very connected to the heart, that one is all about emotional healing; I think that emotional healing starts with the feelings provoked by what you're using. In the 1st place, and so when we get that, we can create different connections with what we're using. And that's another really important aspect of using tools and medicine in the 1st place is laying the foundations, the correct foundations.

In the first place, connecting with the things that invoke positive and serene feelings, emotional feelings, so that you can find a sense of self and a sense of peace, knowing that you're using something that connects you back to yourself, to your inner child, to your culture, to your family. And we are reinforcing those routes, and we are working on establishing those routes from the ground up rather than working from here down. Reinforcing from the ground up is super important.

I think we need to go back to the very simple basics of, let me use something that invokes emotional connection.

Cassie: You are such a deep well of wisdom, my friend. Also just want to say that I think you should make a shirt that says “Basil your way through girl”,  because I just think it needs to exist. 

Lupita: Yeah, I use basil for a lot of things. And my personal limpias. Or the one-on-one sessions that I do, I have a bunch of basil outside, and two or three of the plants that I have are a different kind of variation of basil.

I think it's, I think it's Thai basil. I'm going to collect Thai basil. Basil is like a weed in Mexico, especially in the Sonoran parts. Basil likes the sun, but it also likes a little bit of humidity. And so Sonora, further down, is a little humid, and so this shit grows everywhere. All the little houses have basil in a pot somewhere, and it drops the seeds.

Flowers when it dries. And so then they have more basil growing on the ground and you'll find random patches of basil just going everywhere. So I took some of the seeds from my aunt's house, and I put them in the ground, and some of them took off. And they're there, and then I have another popular common cuisine, basil with the big fat leaves.

And then I have another one that's all green with white flowers. And then I have a purple basil, which is beautiful. It's gorgeous. It's I think they call it ruby red. really beautiful basil. The caterpillar worms devoured it. So we're waiting for it to come back and regenerate.

But yeah, basil your way through because basil is anti-inflammatory. And it smells amazing. Cut it and rub the leaves. And just Immerse yourself in the beautiful healing smell like that. It's amazing. Have you ever smelled basil in an essential oil form? 

Cassie: I don't know if I have. 

Lupita: It's interesting. Yeah. Very interesting.

Cassie: It's just incredible to me the different varieties of basil and how they're all so different. And this goes for so many plants. I have holy basil or Tulsi basil in my garden. I have Tulsi, too. I love it. And I, it's just exactly what you described. I make tea with it sometimes. I've made tinctures with it before, but my favorite thing is in the summer to just rub my hands on it.

And it's just the most amazing smell. 

Lupita: And it's sweet. Tulsi is sweet. 

Cassie: Oh, it's like perfume. 

Lupita: Yes, it has this perfumey floral smell with the tanginess, of a basil. 

Cassie: I love what you said, too, because I think, Especially when thinking about grief, it's so important to remember that grief shows up in people's bodies in so many different ways. And so when you honor the plants that you feel called to work with, the ones that you have that emotional connection with, you're honoring how grief is showing up in your body.

Which is different for every grief, for every person; it's just that there's so much variety, and that's the beauty of working with plants is that the plants want to support us. And it's all about what you said, like feeling that emotional connection to them.

Lupita: Yes, if we think of plants as spirits. Then, it facilitates how we want to connect with them.

You don't want to connect with the spirit without having that foundation laid. You I mean, I wouldn't, I would want for there to be a deep connection that honors both of us, even if it is out of a memory, even if it is out of a childhood event, that really induces that. It's like this, threading, inner weaving, where everything just starts to make sense, the feeling, the smell, the memory, and the act of consumption, whether it's energetic or drinking it or eating it, or smelling it, it stimulates your senses.

And now you're in your physical self, as much as you are in your emotional body and your spiritual being. And so there's all of this interconnectedness that's weaved through, allowing for that emotional connection, with a plant. I really don't think you can go wrong with basil. We go back to basil just being amazing.

Rosemary. 

Cassie: Oh, I love rosemary. 

Lupita: For us, it's also Rue's amazing. And, I grew up with Rue being used to cure my ear infections. We never really used antibiotics. We would look through in some olive oil or whatever oil we have and then we put it in our ears and then we'd cover it with cotton balls, until this day, my kids haven't had an ear infection and whenever they join, whenever join us started to.

Show any signs of infection. I have this concoction of oils with ruin and extracts and things, and he'll ask me for it and say, my ear hurts. Can you give me some of that stuff? And I'm like, sure, and this is what I'm doing with him and with both of them is establishing those emotional connections so that when he's older, he can look back.

And remember and have that one or those few staple memories that smelled like something, looked like something, felt like something. I want him to remember that so that he always has something to go back to that makes him feel connected.

Cassie: What a gift. What a legacy. What can you think about? Yeah, to leave that for your children. I think about that a lot with my kids, too, and the potency and the power of showing them how important those relationships can be with our plant family.

Lupita: And respect. I think there's no need for children to be malicious with our environment.

It's one thing to be curious and to learn, which every child has to go through. But I taught both of my boys very early on to respect plants and respect nature. 

Cassie: Can you imagine how lush and abundant and beautiful the earth would be if children were raised, with this reciprocity in mind? 

Lupita: We're not taught that though.

It's taught to take and take abusively and aggressively.

And, I've been speaking on issues with white sage for years, and that's what's happened, and it's happening to follow Santo to where we are taking. Abusively and aggressively, and there's no reciprocity. There's no respect. There's no foundation, and there's no emotional connection. Yeah. So we're taking it because our mind wants to have it, and so there's that disconnect, and the intention is already wrong. The foundation is already wrong. And this is why I said earlier that having the right intention doesn't excuse ignorance. Because maybe you didn't know, like a lot of us, but if you know better, you do better.

 People still choose to look the other way. Yeah, for a lot of things. Yeah. I still choose to look away from the massacre on White Sage, but White Sage is also representative of a lot of other things.

Yeah, a lot of groups of people, a lot of issues in this world. White Sage represents a lot of oppressed communities and we are watching it unfold. In many ways across the globe, that has brought forward its own set of grief, its own set of collective grief, where we don't know how to channel and we don't know where to put it. Personally, I don't know where to put it. I don't know what to do with it, but I allow myself to acknowledge that because not acknowledging it is my privilege. And so if I know something is going on with White Sage, and I find out there's communities being harmed because they're taking their White Sage away because they're killing their White Sage, then they're going to speak up, because if my voice is all I have, then so be it. Yeah. I refuse to be silent. I refuse to be the person who, when this is established as history, refuses to be that part of that percentage that was not part of the collective healing.

Cassie: I think a lot of people, myself included, are learning the value of our voice and the importance of our voice.

Lupita: it represents a lot of things. A lot of wars, a lot of genocides. There is a lot of injustice and a lot of abuse. White sage represents our Indigenous people. It represents our Palestinian people. It represents our people in Congo. It represents people in South Korea and North Korea.

It represents our Mexican people. It represents our Latin Americans. It represents all of it. Yeah. It's more like a symbol, right? But we've seen the efforts of people sharing about White Sage. And the progress that has made. But it didn't happen quick. And that is the thing with time. I think time for me brings a lot of grief sometimes.

Cassie: Yeah. as a collective, too, we're learning so much about how to grieve together. And I think time is a part of that. how do we process and grieve the bigness of the pain of the horrors that are happening in our world? And I think that we're walking. Through it right now. At least the people who are willing to bear witness are learning in real-time. How do we walk through this? How do we assimilate and process what is happening so that we can remain in it? 

Lupita: And I'm smiling because creosote. 

Cassie: Bringing it back to the creosote. 

Lupita: Creosote can be. Both things. Yeah. because it fucking can, it's that simple. It can be grieving and can be in its emotional self, and its feminine self, and it can coexist and push through and persevere. And it's masculine energy, and so I think we are asking, how do we navigate the grief and the blessing of being alive,

Nature is perfect. And will always be perfect examples to life. We find our life in nature, we find meaning, we find reasons, we find purpose, and, that's the most beautiful story to tell. 

Cassie: It is. And I'm looking forward to spending some time. Some of the creosote that I have from you And I will certainly put all the links for your wonderful creations in the show notes. So if anybody listening wants to connect with Creosote. That they can't or connect with Lulu that you can, but I'm just so glad that we found time to do this.

You just brought so much. So I'm just so happy to share your wisdom. Thank you. This was so wonderful. Thank you so much, Lulu, for your time, for your energy, for your wisdom. 

Lupita: Thank you for having me. I appreciate it. It was amazing.

The Magic of Grief & Grief Tending

Every rite of passage and rebirth you experience, whether on a spiritual, emotional, physical, personal, or collective level, includes opportunities to grieve. Yet, talk of grief is often reserved for death and dying alone. While in truth, grief relates to any deep sorrow, and sorrow accompanies many of the rites of passage we walk through. Some of the rites of passage, rebirths, and deaths that come to mind that so often lack our grief are the onset of menstruation, puberty, childbirth, monetary changes, loss of friendships, moving, changes in important relationships, career or work changes, deaths, and collective changes like climate change and the pandemic, just to name a few. 

Listen to this post on my podcast, Rooting into Wholeness, here.

Grief lives within every death and rebirth cycle, waiting for us like a wise teacher ready to help us alchemize through another right-of-passage portal. Unfortunately, for many of us, rights of passage are sorely lacking in our personal lives and collectively, leaving our ability to properly grieve important changes neglected. How might our view of grief and grieving change if we could hold these words with more reverence? How would life's rights of passage, death, and rebirth processes look and feel if you had more time and space to grieve them properly? How might we as a collective find more peace if we made more space for the magic of grief? 

In the book Death Nesting by Anne-Marie Keppel, she shares this about grief, "Rather than seeing it as something to "get through” and "move on" from, learn how these new feelings incorporate into your life. Death changes life–that's what it does. Be gentle with yourself and others as you learn this new being you are becoming." When I grieve, I'm often reminded that I need far more time and space than I think to be with my grief. What would happen if you allowed more time to tend to your grief or, as Anne-Marie put it, “to learn this new being you are becoming”? Would you turn into a pile of tears, incapable of moving forward? Maybe for a little while, but not forever. I suspect your grief, like mine, has wisdom, healing, and even inspiration to offer you as you navigate this physical world. Perhaps focusing on our grief is the transformative and paradoxical magic we need to emerge from personal and collective rites of passage more healed and whole.

This isn't to say grief tending is easy, and of course, there are barriers to regular grief tending embedded in the systems in which we live, so each person's ability to grieve will vary. The natural cycles of nature and the moon show us ways to grieve even when it may be difficult. I've found in my own grief tending that my ability to grieve directly correlates to my capacity to love myself and others and experience deep joy. Like most things, the more time you spend cozying up to grief, the more natural it will feel over time.

Like so many areas of life, perhaps the best place to better learn how to grieve is by turning to our closest teachers in the natural cycles surrounding us, like the moon and the seasons. In this share, I'll explore grief through the seasons, moon phases, and the tarot, gleaning ways to honor and learn from our grief to help us become whole and more firmly rooted in our humanness. I'll offer energetic insights into how I see grief show up in the energy body as an energy worker, how I approach it on an energetic level, and other grief rituals. This share is an invitation to examine your grief, and the magic, healing, and joy found within the grieving process. 

As a human who grieves, a death doula, and an energy worker, I'm no stranger to grief, but I'm also not the authority on grief. As a cis white woman, I carry internal biases that skew my perspective, which undoubtedly pertain to my experiences around grief. As always, take what you like and leave the rest. Furthermore, if you've recently lost someone or are experiencing deep grief, I invite you to be gentle with yourself as you listen and take breaks if you need. Therapy can be a wonderful ally to grieving. You don't need to do this alone. 

Grief and the season of slowness, winter

Wintertime is our dark moon of the year and a palpable reminder of the need for slowness, darkness, death, and the need to retreat inward. The hibernating flora and fauna remind us not to extend our energy outward year-round. Inward and descending energy has a vital and nourishing role in our existence. My son wisely described this season as the time that "the sun takes a rest." As I write this, here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are a week away from the Spring Equinox, positioned on the cusp of the season of rebirth. For me, the grief is palpable. 

As my first year back in a cloudy, cold climate for winter, it dawned on me that the seasonal depression I felt creeping in was another metaphorical red flashing sign inviting me to "slow down!". Leaving me wondering, would the effects of SAD be as bad if I could rest and retreat inward even more throughout the winter months? The amount of sunlight we have access to throughout winter may be fixed, but the reality is that slowing down, regardless of the season, is simply not an option for most. Depression is real, and lack of sunlight can certainly play a role, but would SAD be as severe if people could slow down and grieve more amidst these natural seasons of less light?

A view from one of my many midwestern winter season walks.

When I lost my grandmother and father within a couple of months of each other, I entered what I like to call a "grief portal." Time seemed to slow down, everything felt hard, and through my patriarchalized and capitalized lens, I just wanted to return to "normal." The biggest lesson I took away from that experience was how much slowness my grief required. I needed loads of time to do nothing to allow things to process. Of course, the way each person processes their grief will be unique, but for me, getting to a place where my grief can come out to be processed requires tremendous slowness. 

Of course, rest and slowness may sound lovely, but there are very real barriers to this kind of big rest, grief tending, and inner transformations. I was privileged to have the space to slow down amidst my grief amidst deep loss. Having time for big slowdowns to process grief may not always be doable. Add to these barriers the fact that many of us have endured various levels of conditioning to place more value on our ability to produce over our ability to simply be. Slowing down can feel like a life-and-death situation. Yet, for many of us, this is what grief needs. 

It is within this season of slowing down and integrating that our grief wants to be witnessed and held close the most. The world outside is in a literal death phase, reminding us daily to honor our personal need to grieve. Yet, our attempts to make space for grief can, understandably, feel too difficult to make space for or thwarted due to the demands of living in a capitalist society, stretching us ever thinner in a time when we should have the space to be with our grief and let parts of ourselves die away. 

Returning to the midwest and communing with the winter landscape has left me pondering how to rewrite this season to make more space for my need to grieve, integrate, and transform. I'm learning that being with my grief at this time is the most potent spell and healing gift I can offer myself this season. When the inevitable happens, and my grief bubbles up, or someone else's grief begins to overflow in my presence, I try witnessing it without judging it or trying to fix it and instead, asking myself how to lovingly hold the space for it, allowing it to be witnessed just like the death of nature all around me. What a powerful gift for myself and others when I can approach grief from this tender and vulnerable space. 

When I look at grieving as something I need to thrive and become whole, it feels less like something I need to get over and more like something I need to hold dear. When I move further into being present with my grief, its magic shines even more. My ability to be present with more grief and the grief of others expands, and my grief transforms into the gift of being present for someone else in their grief. I found myself sitting with the starkness of the winter landscape, witnessing the grief of nature on full display, and wondered if, rather than tucking grief neatly away for an "appropriate" time, perhaps we could be like the winter landscape and allow our grief to simply be. 

Of course, wintertime is not our only season of grief, death, and rebirth. Mother moon shows us how to die, grieve, and be reborn every lunar cycle. Let's explore the wisdom of the dark moon phase in relation to grief.

Honoring the dark moon 

The dark moon phase is mother moon's death, rest, and integration season. Unlike the full moon's magic, the dark moon is not a time for manifesting and materializing but for returning to the inner cauldron, shadow work, and connecting with unseen realms. It is a monthly opportunity to honor death and grief. 

Dark Moon card featured from The Ritual Deck (discontinued)

In Sarah Faith Gottesdeiner's book The Moon Book, she describes the dark moon as "a site of liberation," and I couldn't agree more. It is within the darkness of this phase that we are granted the space to excavate from our depths the parts of us that need to be witnessed and loved the most. By loving these parts of ourselves and witnessing our grief, they can be fully integrated into our inner soil, cultivating a necessary richness for new seeds to be sown. 

When I neglect this phase of the moon's cycles, my inner earth remains parched, thirsty for my grief to be witnessed and tended. Liberation comes when I can hold my sorrow close, rock it, and tell it it's okay to be. Giving my grief permission to integrate into my inner landscape gives rise to the fertile soil needed for new life. I get free. 

The beauty of honoring grief through the dark moon phase is that it comes every month. You don't have to grieve everything at once. The moon reminds us daily that we're not fixed beings and that change is our true nature. We are not meant to be radiant and positive every day; we are also not meant to grieve every day. Every lunation is an invitation to honor where you're at and how you feel, not how society tells you to feel. The dark moon is often the reminder I need to honor my grief and the little day-to-day deaths we all experience. Sometimes, we're intended to crumble and be held by the earth, and the dark moon phase can be a monthly ally to assist in this kind of grief tending. 

Grief as paradox and the chariot

Beyond my personal grief tending this season, I’ve noticed the topic of grief surfacing more on a collective level as well. Have you noticed this, too? Being in a chariot year (2+0+2+3=7, which corresponds to the chariot), I found myself called to think about grief in relation to this card and was excited to see so many overlapping themes and invitations around grief and grieving. Even though the chariot is not usually correlated with grief, I think it has some wisdom for us in this collective season.  

The first clue to the chariot card being an invitation to help us grieve is its placement, and I’ll be honest, the placement of this card did not dawn on me immediately. It wasn’t until I was in the final editing process of this share that I received a little nudge reminding me that the chariot card is the last card of the first line in the major arcana. Wow. Talk about an opportunity to invite grief in. The placement alone sets this card apart as a point of death and rebirth. The fact that the chariot card is the card associated with 2023 indicates that this is indeed a year to, among other things, honor our grief individually and collectively. 

Left: The Chariot Card from Journey Tarot by Cassie Uhl, Right: The Chariot Card from the Waite/Coleman deck

This isn’t the only invitation to grieve that I’ve found in the chariot. The chariot card is one of those cards in the major arcana that I find has many layers, paradoxes, and can mean different things at different times of life. Let’s dive into the paradox of this card and how it shines a light on the paradox in grief. 

The name of the chariot indicates movement and action, yet, on the Waite/Coleman deck, there is no movement shown. It is often touted as a card of willpower yet corresponds with the soft and intuitive energy of Cancer in the zodiac. The paradox continues with the duality of symbology, which can be seen in the black-and-white sphinx looking in different directions. I captured this in my deck with the black and white birds heading in different directions. The medicine of this card is potent and not one that I will be able to fully expand upon here, but I think it has some powerful invitations for us as we examine our grief on a collective level.

There’s a certain amount of resiliency building that accompanies regular grief tending. This is where the chariot comes in. Within the chariot's many layers, there are elements of softness, which we can see with the Cancerian energy tied to this card. There is an invitation to allow what is, to sink into it, and to try to be in a state of flow with what is, even when it’s uncomfortable. 

I see the willpower part of this card come in with how we engage with emotions and grief. The chariot asks us to allow a steady stream of emotions to flow, all while staying on course or perhaps being open to flowing in a new direction. With the gates of grief open, your emotions may indeed put you on a new course entirely or direct your life in new ways. The chariot can be an invitation to get more comfortable in the ups and downs of grief tending. It shares possible avenues to explore around building resiliency while pendulating between grief and joy. Asking, “how can we be with the joy and the grief without being knocked off course so far that we can’t come back?” or, “how can we allow the pendulation between grief and joy to carve a new pathway?”

There’s a certain tension held within the chariot card—a tension between the world of our subconscious emotions and the logical world. In Rachel Pollack’s book Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom, she expresses the tension found in the chariot through our relationship with speech and language in this excerpt. “However, just as the ego is limited, so is speech. First of all, speech restricts our experience of reality. By forming a description of the world, by giving everything a label, we erect a barrier between ourselves and the experience. When we look at a tree, we do not feel the impact of a living organism; rather we think ‘tree’ and move on. The label has replaced the thing itself. Also, by relying too much on this rational quality of language we ignore experiences that cannot be expressed in words.” 

In what ways do we limit our ability to feel our grief fully and all of the magic it has to offer? Cancer, the astrological sign connected to this card, epitomizes feeling and being in our emotions. When paired with the strength and willpower of this card, how are we being asked to use those emotions to direct our movement forward? There is an over-arching theme of being in flow with the discomfort of not knowing where our emotions will take us, which may be another reason some fear sinking deeply into grief. I know I’ve certainly held this fear. What would it look like if the tension between your emotional and logical worlds were in harmony? How might inviting more grief into your daily life inform your daily actions or larger goals? 

This plays out in so many ways societally as well. I find myself constantly faced with the paradox of seeing and experiencing deep pain and injustices in the world, yet, I’m asked to forge ahead like everything is okay, or worse, that it’s completely normal to shove these grievances under the rug and carry on. I think intuitively, even humanely, many of us see how problematic this is. This is certainly one side of the chariot, the idea of forcing and forging ahead at all costs by leaning deeply into our willpower. But, if I invite in more of the nuance this card offers, I can see the need to bring my emotional and subconscious world into my decision-making and how I use my energy. Through this lens, I can see the chariot as an invitation to lean into my willpower to find ways to dance between and betwixt my emotions and the logical world. 

How might our trajectory as a collective change if more of us were forging new paths by flowing between our emotional/subconscious and logical/physical worlds? I sense this shift coming as many of us tire of binary thinking, especially in political spaces. These shifts could be slow and painful, but I don’t think they have to be. There’s so much space for deep joy and pleasure in these in-between spaces around our grief, joy, and the real demands of day-to-day life. I hope 2023 will be a year of flowing more intentionally between our grief, emotions, and the logical steps needed to build a more just and equitable world. 

Grief and the heart space

I don't often share experiences from my energy healing practice, but this specific topic felt like the right time to do so. Tending to grief within the heart space is one of the most common themes in my healing work with clients. Grief often presents to me as heavy weights or boulders in the energy body settled around the heart space. Sometimes these energetic weights are buried deep under several layers. Sometimes it takes multiple sessions for these pockets of grief to be revealed to me as a person becomes more comfortable working with me and my guides. 

How I approach untended grief in the energy body is quite different from how I approach a general imbalance in energy. I'm not the type of energy worker that removes everything from the person I'm working with. So, I certainly don't go in clearing away layers of grief when I come across it. I've found that clearing everything away is not only non-productive and ineffective but can potentially have negative side effects. Over the years, spirit and my guides have become exceedingly clear that grief needs to be witnessed, held, and danced with by the person I'm working with to be fully integrated and processed. There are things I can do to help bring awareness and help the grief surface or to give tools to tend to the grief, but it is not a healing path I can walk for someone else. 

This isn't the answer most folks want to hear. Of course, it would be much easier to remove people's grief, never to be seen again. However, as I shared, I feel there's deep wisdom in our grief and what a tragedy it would be to be severed from our humanness in this way. This isn't to say I won't remove energy from a person's field that isn't serving them, but my guides are always very clear about what needs to go and what needs to stay when I work with others. 

Unsurprisingly, most of the grief I see as an energy worker is settled in the heart space. Like the chariot card, the heart space is an extremely nuanced, layered, and paradoxical part of the energy body. The bridge area holds a unique duality between the physical and spirit realms, where these two qualities seek a sense of harmony. When I see untended grief in the energy body, it often affects one's overall ability to give and receive love, which has been my experience with grief, too. Love, on all fronts, is undeniably a bedrock of our human experience. Again, pointing to grief's important role in our ability to love, be loved, and experience deep joy. 

When I encounter untended grief in the heart space while working with someone, I usually sense a deep desire to witness, feel, and hold the grief. What I offer this kind of grief when I come across it is that deep witnessing. I give it space to tell me what it's been holding onto for so long. I hold it and rock it. After sessions like this, clients often report a sense of openness in the heart space. I do this to help bring it to the surface, not to clear it away. Instead, it's an invitation to embark on a personal grieving and healing journey if the client wants to, with or without me.

The rituals I offer after this kind of work are similar to what I do when I'm energetically engaged in someone's heart space. I invite folks to sit with their heart space, see what arises, and give it space to be witnessed and held. What our grief wants of us is rarely difficult, but the structures in which we live can make it feel like they are. If you're feeling pulled to tend to your grief in this way, you can find a by-donation grief-tending guided meditation I created here. I'll explore this meditation in greater detail below as well, as well as some other grief-tending tools.

Touching into the magic of grief through ritual

The ways we approach our grief will be as varied as the ways we approach life. Let these offerings serve as a place to play and create your own rituals around grief. As I shared earlier, what I offer here is based on my experience as a human who grieves, an energy worker, and an end-of-life doula. I am not an expert or a therapist. If my experiences of grief and grieving do not relate to you or your experiences, that is okay. As always, take what you like and leave the rest.

It's also important to note that working with a trained therapist can be incredibly helpful for grief work. I am a huge proponent of therapy, and many of my deepest underworld journeys have included the aid of a therapist or spiritual counselor. You do not need to go this alone.

Grief work can look like a lot of things. It can look like inner child healing, shadow work, or grieving the loss of someone or something. Remember, grief is paradoxical, so it might take you on surprising journeys and not look how you thought it would. For example, when I was seeing a therapist to help me navigate the grief of losing my father and grandmother, much of the work that transpired between us revolved around healing grief within my childhood. I invite you to be open-minded and curious as you explore your grief. 

Grief Witnessing Meditation

In my practice, some of my most powerful grief work is quite passive. I have learned a lot about slowness through my grief tending and working with those at the end of life. Grief works on its own time, which can be challenging in and of itself. Especially those of us who like to have a checklist! I've shared this before and will continue to. During one of my grief journeys, my therapist reminded me often that in grief, "doing nothing is doing something." It took me a long time to hear her, but I finally did, and it's something I remind myself of regularly today. Grief requires us to slow way down, and there's no shortage of barriers trying to prevent many of us from doing that. 

Vintage illustration of a Young woman bathing by moonlight, Victorian art print, 19th Century

This meditation practice is the most common practice I share with my clients who are carrying grief. It is very passive and may even seem overly simple, try not to let the simplicity of this grief-tending exercise keep you from trying it. 

Find a guided audio version of this meditation here.

Grief tending heart space meditation 

• Carve out 10-40 minutes, whatever you feel you have the capacity for, as I'll encourage you to return to it often.  

• Settle into the present moment by noticing your breath and body. Add in any practices that help you root into the moment. 

• When you feel ready, settle yourself energetically in the heart space. This might look like visualizing traveling into the body and the heart space, visualizing a green or pink field of light around the heart space and focusing your energy there, or something else. There's no wrong or right way to do this. Your goal is to focus your attention on your heart space.

• As you settle into this space, simply notice what comes up, any physical sensations, emotions, visuals, or where you feel called to move within the heart space.  

• If you feel stuck at any time, you can consider asking your heart space questions like, "Are there any parts of myself that need tending to?", "Are there any versions of myself that need to be witnessed?" or "Are there any griefs that need to be held or honored?" I usually find an area of focus that my heart leads me to. 

• Go where you're led as far as you feel safe to continue. You could come in contact with any number of feelings or past experiences that feel they need your attention. Remember, you do not need to feel them all simultaneously. Spend as much time with each layer in your heart as you want, knowing you can always return. 

• You may find it helpful to ask your grief or any younger versions of yourself that you come in contact with if there's anything it would like for you to do to better tend to it. You may find that your grief simply wants you to play or laugh more to honor parts of your childhood that were taken away. 

• Come out of this when you're ready, and take your time returning to your physical space. Consider reintegrating by eating some food or having some tea to root into the physical body. 

If you'd like some support with a meditation like this, find my guided meditation for grief here. 

Play, expression, and ritual

Play, ritual, and various forms of expression have held and continue to hold key roles in grieving that is often forgotten in modern times. In Ireland, there's been a resurgence around the art of keening, which is the intentional wailing, singing, and crying for the dead—a practice initiated by Goddess Brigid after the death of her beloved son. In Ireland, a woman is sometimes hired to keen or wale at a ceremony. The keener holds multiple roles, one to give permission for others to wale or yell, but also to help usher the dead to their next phase. Did you know there are also past practices of game-playing and storytelling amidst the grieving process in Ireland? They were called "wake games." Similar to keening, they were suppressed as Christianity dominated. 

In Monica Sjöö's important book, The Great Cosmic Mother, she speaks of the importance of group ritual and expression in rites of passage, "Rites of transition from one life stage to another required group participation in ritualized expression, all designed to keep the individual's psyche united and in balance while passing through crises." I see this passage as another reminder of how many have forgotten the importance of grieving together. Of course, this "forgetting," was quite intentional. Grieving takes time, and many systems we abide by now, like capitalism, white supremacy, and patriarchy, do not allow the time it takes to grieve properly. This isn't true for everyone, and there are certainly many cultures that have maintained beautiful and powerful grief practices, and, as I mentioned, some are seeing a resurgence like keening. However, for the most part, what I see, as someone who works with folks at the end of life is that many of us have a beautiful opportunity to learn how to grieve better, especially together.

Preparing and conducting rituals around grief throughout the dying process was a big part of my end-of-life doula training. There was also huge importance placed on guiding folks to create rituals independently or as a family. As someone who lives and breathes ritual in my personal practice, I understand the personal nature of ritual. The way you need to grieve, or your family needs to grieve, isn't something I can tell you. I can encourage you to explore your ancestry, if it's accessible to you, and learn about ways your ancestors grieved together. I can also offer you some questions to ponder or journal on when thinking about ways to express or ritualize your grief. 

1. What story does your grief have to tell, and how might that story want to be told? 

2. What parts of your life have died or will die amidst this grief? How might you honor those parts and their ending?

3. How will your grief and loss create openings in your life, whether painful, sad, or happy? Can you think of any ways this openness may want to be honored or acknowledged while simultaneously holding space for your loss?

4. While sitting in your grief, what does it feel like your body wants to do or not do? How might you honor this?

5. While tuning into your grief, can you ask how it would like to be expressed? What does it have to tell you? 

Beyond these reflections, I will offer you one tool that has served me well throughout my life and my grief, and that's through working with altars. 

Grief altars

Different cultures have used altars since the beginning, and grief and loss are powerful ways to work with them. When I was fresh in my grief after the death of my father and grandmother, it caused me deep pain to see pictures of them. Each image served as a reminder of their absence. One of my earliest grief-tending methods was through creating a grief altar. This altar had no images. Instead, I used stones, flowers, and other found objects to represent them. My altar for them held space for all the indescribable feelings I was experiencing around their deaths. It gave me a physical space to put all my big feelings when I needed a break from carrying them. Over the years, I eventually added images of my loved ones to this altar. It is still up in my house today and continues to transform in appearance and purpose. What started as a container for my grief that I could dip in and out of has morphed into a physical representation of my reverence and connection to these loved ones. 

I created a similar altar for my grief around my difficulty having children. There is no grief too small for an altar. Every grief you carry deserves your love. Altars can be small and simple or large and intricate. There is, in my opinion, no wrong or right way to create an altar as they are extremely personal. One purpose of an altar is to bring physicality to something you're working with or an experience. In grief, an altar can be a place to hold, honor, or work with your grief. If this feels like something you'd benefit from, I invite you to approach your grief altar with curiosity and a playful spirit. You might even find it helpful to try the grief-honoring meditation earlier and ask for insight into what creating a grief altar might look like for you.  

Grief offers us a bridge between our deaths and our inevitable rebirths. Whether we honor the grief within them or not, the death and birth cycles will always continue within our own lives and the collective. The invitation of grief is to be a present participant within the many processes of death and rebirth we will all experience. When I become an active participant in my losses, when I decide to feel them fully and dance in the grief, I am simultaneously allowed the presence to rebuild myself or my life in meaningful ways. We can extend these sentiments to the collective as well. When I seek moments to be present in the grief of the mass extinctions happening all around us, to feel it and dance alongside it, I also create avenues to become an active participant in our rebirthing process as a collective. That is the magic that grief offers us. May you be with the grief fully, dance with it, let it wale through your body and out your mouth, and let it stream down your face and stomp through your feet into the great mother earth who holds us all until it is fully witnessed and held.