01 Jan Yew Tree
The yew has long been associated with the end of the year. The original ‘yule log’ was from the yew tree, now represented in chocolate. Both the word yew and yule share derivation with the Old Norse word jól, the name of a long winter festival of the sun.
I was introduced to the wisdom of Yew trees through Sam Lee, Chris Parks and Charlotte Pulver. They invited a group to sing and breathe under an ancient Yew, which was an enchanting experience.
The Yew Tree if left to its own devices will keep growing for thousands of years, and has a number of ways to regenerate itself. Hence it is a symbol of the eternal, of death and rebirth. It is the final letter in the old Irish alphabet, the tree Ogham. It’s bark, needles and berry seeds are all highly poisonous (although the flesh of the seed is not). As another reminder of death and regeneration, Yew is used as an ingredient in chemotherapy.
Through becoming more familiar with this tree species, I was inspired to visit was Kingley Vale Yew Forest in West Sussex. Weaving under the sweeping yew branches was magical. Meeting some of the ancient trees there under a shady canopy offered an invitation to slow down, to compare my short life in relation to their longer timeline of people and times gone before.
The end of the year can be a good time to review where we have been over the previous twelve months, to mourn the losses, celebrate our achievements and harvest the learnings. The Year Compass is a free online tool to explore a full review if you are looking for a reflection process. It also invites an orientation to what’s next. One of the questions that I like, is ‘What three places would you like to visit in the year ahead?’
On my list to visit for 2024 is the Yew tree in the churchyard of St Andrews Totteridge in North London, which is thought to be around 2000 years old. Yew trees are often found in churchyards, and may pre-date the current church building, marking an older site that was locally significant.
If we have the luxury of time off during the dark of winter time, it can be resourcing to go inward, to dream, to replenish ourselves with rest before the next cycle begins. I find a pause helpful – even when we are only able to take a micro-pause of one breath. Pauses allow us to digest experiences, to connect with our inner world, or another being. They provide us with a moment to gather ourselves before heading back into the world. This movement inwards can be a resource to help us to face the storm of life – whether near or further afield.
In Glennie Kindred’s book ‘Walking With Trees’ , she invites us to step into a deeper enquiry.
“Walking with Yews inspires us to engage with our own abilities to transform, adapt and change. We can choose to start again by walking away from old life style choices or old ways of looking at things. We always have the choice to change our thinking habits and transform our beliefs. Each end, each death of the old, be it small or large, opens up a new opportunity for a new beginning, brings with it hope, and new possibilities waiting to unfold.”
Find our Grief Tending events coming up here.
Sarah Pletts is a Grief Tender and Artist who offers workshops in London and online, sharing rituals where grief on all themes is welcome. For more information about Grief Tending events see here.
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