To see death not as an endpoint, but as an evolution of possibility, as a rising up of potential. When loved ones are approaching the veil, we will rush towards them, hold their hands, and say ‘We will remember you. As you let go of your physical body we will rise with you for a moment, we will walk with you to the other side of the veil and we will know you are there.’ - Zach Bush
I cut my hair for the first time in 7 years. Yep, 2017 was the last time my hair was cut, in Denver, before I moved to Portland, OR. The first time moving out of state from where I grew up. The first time really leaving home.
And now, 7 years later, I’m finally cutting it again, and honoring my hair and the stories it carries and the weight it holds, literally and metaphorically, in a different way. Leaving home again in a different way, or rather, home leaving me. The initiation into deeper life pulling me forward.
Many cultures place deep significance on the hair and the DNA, karma, and wisdom it carries. Many cultures have some practice of cutting hair to honor the dead.
For me, I wanted to honor my mom and her hair loss journey to cancer and her life and death. I wanted to release the heaviness of the grief and allow the transcendence and lightness of unconditional love to come in. I wanted the transformation to integrate. I know that the best way to honor my mom’s life and all the sacrifices that she made for me is to move forward with more determination, focus, courage and devotion than ever before. I wanted to embody this initiation.
[Wild Edge of Sorrow on importance of ritual]
“Ritual is a means of attuning ourselves to one another, the land, and Spirit.”
“Ritual shifts the weight of the pain, allowing us to set down portions of the burden or receive support in carrying it.”
“Ritual provides sufficient intensity to help us access deeper aspects, provides the heat necessary to help cook these states into something new.”
“We need to build faith in ourselves as ritually-literate people. We will be called to dress the wounds of suffering for people in our community.”
Quote from Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer:
There’s such tenderness in braiding the hair of someone you love. Kindness and something more flow between the braider and the braided, the two connected by the cord of the plait. Wiingaashk waves in strands, long and shining like a woman’s freshly washed hair. And so we say it’s the flowing hair of Mother Earth. When we braid sweetgrass, we are braiding the hair of Mother Earth, showing her our loving attention, our care for her beauty and well-being, in gratitude for all she has given us. Children hearing the Skywoman story from birth know in their bones the responsibility that flows between human and earth.”
The ceremonial container that my beautiful friend and hair priestess Belle held with me was beyond. For the last couple of years I knew that when I did decide to cut my hair, that I wanted it to be a ritual. I had no idea it would have so much deeper meaning and significance. She lovingly offered her services and I knew it was the time. Belle reminded me that when we first met a few years ago, she had braided my hair. That linked us in reciprocity. Later, we also held a dinner and ceremony together in honor of el Dia de los Muertos and the cycles of life. It was a special gift for her to be able to hold this space for me and for us sisters to be in ceremony together once again.
We hiked to an amazing spot along the river and dropped into some prayers and intentions. I brought trinkets of my mom along with me, and the tarot card of Mary Magdalene that I had pulled (hello initiation) and we dropped into a transformative ritual where I released the weight of what needed to be released and honored my divine feminine lineage and my new place in my lineage, my family, my community, and the world that I am stepping into.
I weeped in the rain and joyously released my hair into the river and cleansed in the waters with my Mother. A huge Great Blue Heron appeared and swam and cleansed herself with us before majestically taking flight. A nod from God. A hug from my mom.
We are made of water Like the river we know, How to release our fears and let go. We are made of water Like the river we know, How to trust that our paths lead us home.