A few days ago, I had the privilege of holding space for a ceremony that will stay with me for a long time.
It unfolded beside a sacred circle — a place that seemed to hold its own quiet wisdom — where a group of people gathered, some old friends, some strangers, all drawn together by love, memory, and a person we were honouring. In the centre of it all, a grief mandala slowly took shape.

We laid petals, seeds, stones, feathers — each chosen with care, each placed with intention. A grief mandala is a gentle but powerful practice. It allows us to express emotion wordlessly, symbolically. Every element added is a gesture of remembrance, release, or connection. And like grief itself, the mandala is temporary. It’s made to return to the earth — just as our tears dry, just as our hearts slowly shift.
The group was a mix. Some people knew each other well. Some were meeting for the first time. There were threads of family, of friendship, of quiet personal grief. There were unspoken dynamics and spontaneous moments of lightness. There were swallows overhead and birdsong in the stillness.
Jaine who commissioned me said, “You just floated through it all with this calm, beautiful presence — like some alighting angel, you managed to tune into all of it — the layers, the people, the energy — and you held it so strongly, but so tenderly.”
Those words landed deeply, because that is exactly what I aim to do: to hold what arises. Not to control it or tidy it, but to create a space where people feel safe enough to show up — in all their complexity — and to let ceremony unfold around them.
As with all true ceremonies, this one was co-created. Voices wove together, silences carried meaning, and the mandala offered a shared focus — something to do with our hands when our hearts were full.

“It was quite an intricate sort of thing, really,” Jane said. “But it just felt right. Spontaneity happened. And it was just really lovely.”
Since then, messages have been coming in from people who were there, and those who received the ceremony by email. Gratitude, connection, surprise at how deeply it landed. One friend even wrote, “Thank you. What an amazing ceremony.”
I think we all left that circle a little changed.
If you’re navigating a loss, a change, or simply feel the need for a ceremony that honours your story in a gentle, grounded way — I’m here.