Living Life As The Witch – Dealing With Grief: Let the Healing Begin

Blessed Be Comments

Let the Healing Begin


The hardest part in overcoming grief is taking the first step because you’ll have an “I don’t care” attitude. Along with pain, you feel a great apathy toward life. That is typical. The first spell work I performed–and still perform–to relieve myself of grief and depression is speaking an affirmation or a devotional daily.

It doesn’t need to be lengthy. Just saying out loud that you’re not alone and that your loved one is still with you in some way is a great help. Whether they have passed on or simply passed out of your life, the part they’ve had in making you the person you are today will never go away. Now is also a good time to thank your Guardian Spirits for their help. If you’re up to it, light a candle on your altar as you do this. At night, thank the Divine Spirit for returning you home safely. If you’re mourning the passing of a loved one, don’t be surprised if you feel a gentle touch at this time. They are close to you.

Dreams can also be important now, although they’re not easy for us to control. However, a deceased loved one will most likely contact you during a dream. This can be most comforting. Try to remember the details of the dream because they may contain messages.

Receiving Help

Since many witches belong to covens, the coven would be an ideal place to start if you feel the need of a support group. And if professional help is needed, you can begin by talking to your doctor. He or she will often be able to recommend a local therapist or counselor who specializes in grief or in the specific situation you are facing.

A note on giving help: If you know someone who is grieving and you’re both part of the magickal community, please don’t do any type of spell work without being asked. This could cause bad karma.


Excerpt from:
The Sun Also Rises:
Dealing with Grief
James Kambos

~Magickal Graphics~

Greetings & Blessings to All My Wonderful Friends & Family!

Sympathy Comments

I am apologize for running late today. I was trying to get all my material ready for this day. Today is a very sad and sobering day for myself. I know at this site we have huge family of followers and perhaps some of them were affected by the shooting in Connecticut. I know every time I hear a news article on TV about the shootings, I cry. This makes me think I have come in contact with someone who is grieving this very day. I hope and pray I am wrong but I don’t believe I am.

I have lost loved ones myself. My mother, at a very young age, my father later in life and my sister. My entire family has passed on. The hardest death I had to deal with was my sister’s. It is only until recently I have come to terms with her passing. She has been gone now for six years. There is no magick pill you can take and make your pain and grief go away. It takes time and in some cases, years. My mother, I have never got over her death. At this stage in life, I don’t believe I ever will. I have a dear, dear loved one that pass on and I blame myself for his death. Now that is a heavy burden to live with. It was because the feelings he had for me that caused his death. I know this and there are days when it is very hard to go on. All of these emotions are normal. You blame yourself, you have guilt, what could you have done, you should have been there. So many questions run through your mind. But you can’t come up with the answers.

Death, unfortunately, is something we will all have to deal with at one time or another. You can never prepare yourself for death. It comes like a stranger in the night, stealing our loved ones away from us. The young, the old, it doesn’t matter, they were our loved ones. It isn’t fair but no one ever said life was fair. We have to deal with the hand we are dealt. Grief is something that hits us like a stone wall. Our worlds are turned upside down. Our hearts are broken. We feel like our world has ended. Where do we go from here?

Times like these are the times we turn to our Faith. You call upon the Goddess. You ask for Her mercy, Her love and most of all Her comfort. The Goddess is the gentle Mother of all of us. She knows us better than anyone. Our Great Mother, will assist you in your grief. Give you aid, when you then you can’t go on. When you think all is lost, She will give you Love. Hers is a Divine Love that you can take comfort in. The Goddess is there waiting for you. All you have to do is just ask for Her help. You can survive this with the help of our Great Mother. Just ask Her.

~Magickal Graphics~

Healing from Grief and Loss

Healing from Grief and Loss

by Delia Quigley

“If you do not bring forward what is within you, what is within you will  destroy you. But if you bring forward what is within you, what is within you  will heal and save you.” The Gospel of Thomas

We want the security of knowing that life will hold the pattern we create,  the niche we carve out for ourselves in whatever space we can claim as our own.  When we lose what we love, our pattern is changed forever, and we descend into  grief. This time of grieving invites us to be still, to sit quietly and allow  the process to unfold. We might think that some kind of action needs to take  place, some moving on from the sadness; in fact, it is in giving time to your  grief that it becomes a transformative experience.

When a close friend died of cancer, many people in my circle of friends were  devastated by the loss. I remember waking up the morning after he died knowing  that my world had changed forever, and I right along with it. I found myself  looking at each moment as if he would appear again in my field of vision. I felt  so weighed down with sorrow that there was nothing to do but sit in emptiness.  Even knowing his illness was terminal, those of us around him refused to  acknowledge that he was dying. Later, when we looked at pictures, taken days  before his passing, we were shocked at what was so evident. The man was dying,  and we couldn’t let him go.

When we lose someone or something we love, we are faced with the space that  person held and we fill it with grief and longing. Grieving is the emotional  healing our mind needs to recover from loss. If we are unable to grieve our  losses, we have difficulty moving on. We forfeit some of our emotional  flexibility. Our psyches develop hard spots, which may manifest themselves in  habitual anger, irritability, anxiety, depression, or addiction.

Taking my grief to the meditation cushion, I sat and watched my breath,  cried, sobbed, blew my nose, and watched my breath some more. There were  mornings I couldn’t sit still and was overcome by sadness again, and so I would  do my yoga, moving slowly from one posture to another. Gradually, what I called  the “grief balloon” began to deflate, and this incredible feeling of love was  there to fill the space. My attachment to my friend’s death had dissolved, and I  was filled with the purity of unconditional love that had formed the basis of  our relationship.

Meditation teacher Joseph Goldstein, and author of The Experience of  Insight, writes that love that comes from wisdom is an “unconditional,  universal loving kindness—a feeling of friendliness and warmth for all beings  everywhere.” All that you can do to shed your grief and replace it with love is  to be patient, do the practice, and meditate. That’s all that’s required.


What Not to Say to Someone Grieving

What Not to Say to Someone Grieving

by Molly, selected from DivineCaroline

If you have had the experience of losing a loved one in your  lifetime, you  understand that the mourning process can be so agonizing  and prolonged that it  feels as if it will never end. Sometimes it’s so  excruciating, in fact, that  even when we aren’t grieving firsthand and  are simply trying to help a person we know heal following the death of someone  important to him or her, we panic,  unsure of what words of reassurance can  possibly suffice in the face of  such monumental loss and emotional trauma.

According to bereavement expert Camille Wortman, PhD, blogging for the PBS  series This Emotional Life,our  personal discomfort  surrounding death and tragedy, whether conscious or  unconscious, often rears  its head when we try to reach out to grieving people,  even if we have the best of intentions.  She notes, “We are not sure  what to say and we do not want to make [the person]  feel even worse.  Conversing with a grieving person can evoke feelings of  helplessness  because objectively, there is little we can say or do to help.  Such  interactions may also enhance feelings of vulnerability, because they   make us realize that bad things can happen at any time.”

In addition, Wortman points out, as we sense our own stress levels increasing while we try to soothe someone who  is suffering, we freeze  up and tend to default to a one-size-fits-all approach,  making “remarks  that are part of our cultural understanding of how to help  others.” Yet  such statements are risky at best and downright damaging at worst.  When  attempting to console a bereaved person, you’d be wise to avoid the   following types of behaviors.

Offering Platitudes “Time heals all wounds.” “You  have so much to be thankful for.” “It wasn’t meant to be.” “This is  simply nature’s way of dealing with a problem.” “Everything happens for a  reason.”

Minimizing the Problem “It was only a baby you didn’t  know; you can always have other children.” “She was seventy-five, so she  lived a nice long life.” “It’s over now. There’s nothing to do but move  on.” “Others are worse off than you.”

Giving Unsolicited Advice “You should seriously consider  getting a dog to keep you company now that your husband is gone.” “It’s not  healthy for you to be visiting your mother’s grave every day.” “The best way  for you to get over your wife’s death is to start dating new people as soon as  possible.”

Grasping at Straws in an Attempt to Relate “I know how  you feel about your son’s passing. My husband and I got divorced last year, and  I’ve had a very hard time with it.” “I’m sorry to hear about your wife’s  untimely death. I  understand what you’re going through, because I had to put my  dog to  sleep recently.” “I know how hard it must have been to lose your  five-year-old. I experienced a similar tragedy when I had an abortion.”

Putting a Religious Spin on the Situation “God has a  plan.” “God doesn’t give you any more than you can handle.” “God needed  your father more than you did.” “She’s a flower in God’s garden now.” “Heaven needed another angel.”

Expressing Intolerance for the Length of the Grieving  Process “Think positive.” “You must be strong.” “Keep a  stiff upper lip.” “Pull yourself together.” “Get back on the horse.”

These verbal red flags might make you feel as if trying to  console someone  who’s lost a loved one is akin to stepping into a  minefield, but bear in mind  that saying nothing at all is still more  harmful. Treat this as an opportunity  to practice mindful  compassion—instead of blurting out clichés, make  sympathetic and  selfless comments, such as:

“I’m so sorry to hear about your loss.” “I can’t imagine what you are  going through.” “I don’t know exactly what to say, but I know I can  listen.” “Would you like to sit down and tell me how you’re really  feeling?”

Above all, don’t forget to ask what you can do to help. Whether  that means  sitting quietly with a grieving friend while she cries,  asking people to  prepare food for her for a few weeks, or researching  support groups for her to  attend, know that you do have the power to  provide genuine comfort.



Chicken Soup for the Soul – Grieving and Recovery

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grieving and Recovery

BY: Heather Schichtel

Enjoy when you can, and endure when you must.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I sit on the park bench eating cheesy popcorn and watching young children on the playground. I am enjoying the day, the sun on my face, and the smell of fresh grass.

Randomly I think, I wish Samantha could run and play with them.

And there it is, the cold hand in my cheesy popcorn, the presence taking up too much space on the park bench, blocking my sunshine. My Grief.

“Really?” I say. “I didn’t invite you. Get your hand out of my cheesy corn.” Instead, I end up having to scoot over, making more room for My Grief. Grief comes and goes when I least expect it. I’ll be in my car, driving along listening to music and I’ll catch it in the corner of my eye, kicking the back of my seat.

“Hey Heather.”

“Aww crap, what are you doing here?”

“It’s been a while. I thought I would stop in for a visit.”

“Well, make sure you fasten your seatbelt and be quiet. My daughter’s sleeping and I don’t want you to wake her up.”

“Can I change the station?”


“Can I play with the window?”

“No, you can just come along for the ride. 

So we go on the ride together, fingernails thumping on the dashboard as a reminder of who decided to show up today. Yes, I am quite aware of your presence, you don’t need to remind me.

Grief’s appearance used to rattle me, send me into the bathroom crying hysterically. Render me useless for a day. Sometimes it still does, but as Grief has been established as a consistent visitor in our household, we have drawn up a contract. We have an agreement.

As the mom of two children, one who died at birth and one who has a progressive disease, I will grieve. I will grieve for many dreams that will not come to fruition. I will grieve for a life I thought would be different.

I will grieve at times. And I will not grieve at times. I will laugh at times. I will not laugh at times.

Grief can come into our house but is not allowed to stay. If allowed to stay, it would devour the corners of our house. It would suck up the oxygen in the room. It would consume me.

And that is not acceptable.

Grief tends to run within the Special Needs community I am a part of; I bump into him quite often, even visiting other families….

“How are you?”

“My daughter has pneumonia. She is in the hospital on a ventilator.”

I look around and see Grief, sitting on the couch, smugly picking at dirty fingernails.

And I meet those who sadly keep very, very close company with this unwanted guest. Grief hangs over them like a shroud. It is hard to laugh. It is hard to love, because in copious amounts Grief tends to ooze; like a nasty septic wound… draining life from us.

But we still have to laugh, we still have to play, we still have to live… life carries on.

I cannot, at the end of my life say… well, it was long, hard and I was sad.

Surprisingly, our relationship is not based entirely on conflict. My interactions with Grief have allowed me to see myself raw, unprotected, and exposed. At times I feel that I have lost my skin… yes, here I am. Be careful, that’s my beating heart you see there. Do not touch.

I am no longer afraid to approach others regarding their own tragedies. I bring up the tough conversations. How is your mother? I am sorry for your loss. I am so sorry your daughter is in the hospital. I hug, I cry, I listen. Not because I am an über-sensitive person but because I know Grief sometimes travels alone except when he travels with his favorites… Isolation and Loneliness.

Sometimes Grief shows up at a party… drinks my wine, eats my last bite of fudgy dessert. It’s an annoyance really, but since Grief is not a constant life guest, I have learned to tolerate the time we spend together. Sometimes we even enjoy an introspective moment or two.

We have set the rules and sometimes they are followed. We cannot have a permanent impy, uninvited guest… we don’t have the room… not in our lives, not in my heart… life is too short and despite the bad things that can happen… life is too sweet.