A Ritual of Burying a Doll
Monday - Stories from the studio
Last week I was holding my Gather the Keeners retreat on the Hebridean Isle of Eigg.
Within the retreat offerings, one is to make a clay doll (made from pure clay without any plastics or synthetic additives.
This doll is to hold any personal intention - perhaps something of one’s own grief, or a loved one or place. The doll might hold symbols or patterns that are marked onto the clay, or perhaps hold ancient motifs.
I made a little figurine, much like the Westerly Wifey, found on the Orcadian Isle of Westray and is 5,000 years old, I’m making a trip to visit her this summer.
A replica of the Westray Wifey on Skaill Beach by Skara Brae
Buddo - made of whale bone, found at Skara Brae - now housed in the Stromness Museum.
She is inspired by all the little carved and clay figurines - those found in Scotland such as Buddo, found at Skara Brae (now housed in the Stromness Museum) to the far more ancient figurines such as the Woman of Willendorf who is roughly 30,000 years old.
There is an old tradition I read about in a book, which says on a full moon on the beach of Camas Sgiotaig (The Chirping Bay - renamed by the Victorians as the Singing Sands) - that on a full moon on this beach you are granted the opportunity to speak to someone who has died.
The chirping comes from shuffling your feet on the dry white quartz sand, which creates a sound somewhat similar to walking on a compacted type of dryish snow.
This is the place I buried my doll, at the top of the beach among the dry white sand. Perhaps if I sit quietly enough and listen for the sound of the sea I might be able t see through her eyes. Watch the moon rising, highlighting the crests of waves as they crash onto the shore.
It was a warmish day and so we couldn’t resist swimming in the sea, jumping up and into the approaching waves. Green crystal clear sea, the odd bit of seaweed and kelp floating by as Artic terns wheeled above us.
There's a little of me in that doll, a fingerprint, an awareness. Something of me that's more than human.
Perhaps with my connection to this little figurine, perhaps on the next full moon I’ll speak to my Grandfather, whom I never met as he died when my mum was just 11.
I’ll pick up my Celtic Soul prayer beads, using the invitation of the 3 silver step beads - a meditation of walking to a favourite sacred place - and on full moon nights, part of me will be on that little beach amound the chirping sands.
Fabulous journey for the retreat days - the Doll is meaningful. It is something i think i could do here in Michigan Surrounded by so much water and near the shores of Lake Huron, i think i will take a day during the summer. With a created icon such as you show, and do the like ritual.
I don't know if this has been covered in your local news or not, but there's a pair of bald eagles here in Southern California that produced
three eggs back in March. The park crew set up cameras so they've had a livestream going since the eggs were laid.
They all hatched, but there was a snowstorm and one of the babies didn't make it ... it froze to death. The other two eaglets are doing fine, but I wanted to share with you that something profound happened after the one baby died.
The parents went through what was clearly a mourning ritual: the mother carried the little body of her chick away from the nest. Then both parents sang what can only be described as keening, their calls echoing through the valley.
Afterwards they went back to raising the other two chicks; life goes on, after all. But it was moving to watch and hear their lament. - If anyone's interested, I can provide a link to their closure ritual.