Death is not the opposite of life—it is a part of it. A threshold we cross again and again in small ways before the final crossing comes. In the Celtic worldview, death was not feared but honoured. The dead were not sent away—they were accompanied.
The Celts believed in the permeability of worlds. The seen and unseen were woven closely together, and death was understood as a journey into another realm—a continuation, not a conclusion. Within this sacred cosmology, the body was tended with great reverence. Women—mothers, midwives, kin—washed the dead, wrapped them in cloth, and kept vigil. The shroud was not merely practical; it was sacred. Often made from linens kept for a lifetime or newly crafted from natural fibres, shrouds were sewn with care, sometimes stitched with blessings, symbols, or herbs.
This weekend offering invites you to step into this ancestral remembering.
We will gather in the quiet of my countryside cottage to explore:
* The Celtic understanding of death, thresholds, and the Otherworld
* Ancient rites around dying, death, and burial
* The role of community in death tending
* The making of shrouds: history, symbolism, and personal creation
* Gentle ritual, storytelling, and guided death contemplation
You will be guided in creating your own shroud from Organic handspun Nettle and cotton linen—whether for yourself, a loved one, or as a symbolic act of transformation. This is an offering of hands and heart: stitching intention, memory, and meaning into cloth.
I offer this from my own years of walking with death—in practice, in silence, and in service.
Detail
Location: My cottage in the countryside (address shared upon booking), on the Welsh / Herefordshire Borderlands
Dates: 27th and 28th September
Investment: £595
Includes materials for your shroud, light lunch, snacks , and quiet space to reflect
Limited to an intimate group for depth and safety
See my booking page to book your place, or DM if you require a payment plan.
Please notes due to the costs of the materials places are non - refundable, unless I can fill your place