The Elder Mother Tree: Death and Rebirth

Just days ago, I experienced something that will live in my heart for a lifetime: I co-hosted my very first Elderberry Tree Initiation online. Together with a circle of 12 luminous sisters—each of us training to become facilitators of Plant Initiation Ceremonies through the living lineage of Pam Montgomery and Emma Fitchett—we stepped into the ancient, mysterious embrace of Elder.

I feel so honored, so humbled, to be walking this path. As we gathered, each woman brought her own story, her own longing, and her own questions. In the darkening days, as Winter Solstice draws near, we called upon Elder’s wisdom to guide us through the threshold between death and rebirth.

To be held in the arms of the Elder Mother is to surrender to the embrace of the old wise woman—the Crone, the one who stands at the threshold as guardian of death and rebirth. She is the washer of the bones, the fairy woman who guides you gently to the other side, so that you may be reborn anew. Her roots sink deep into the soil of ancestral memory; she is the keeper of the stories, the bridge to those who walked before us.In her presence, I felt the weight and comfort of ancient hands—hands that know how to hold grief and joy, endings and beginnings. Elder Mother asks us to be brave enough to look at what is ready to die within us, and tender enough to honor what has come before. She whispers, “What old bones are you ready to wash clean? What stories from your lineage need to be released, so that you may cross the threshold into your own new dawn?”

Elder teaches through paradox. She is both the end and the beginning, the womb and the tomb. In our journey, she invited us to sit in the darkness—not as punishment, but as sacred preparation. I found myself wondering—what wisdom might you receive if you surrendered to the deep, dark arms of the Elder Mother? What would you discover if you let the old stories dissolve, trusting that this darkness is not emptiness, but the fertile ground of transformation?Are you willing to listen to the ancestors, to honor what cannot be carried forward, and to plant only those seeds worthy of your becoming?

Now, as the longest night approaches, a quiet celebration stirs in my heart. Just as Elder Mother teaches us to honor the necessity of endings, the Winter Solstice invites us to witness the rebirth of the light. This is the time of the Oak King, when the sun, so tender and new, begins his slow ascent. The days will soon stretch a little longer, and with every dawn, the promise of renewal grows.Have you ever felt that sense of quiet hope in the darkness? The sense that, beneath the stillness, something is germinating—waiting for the right moment to rise? This is our time to plant new seeds, to dream into new structures and possibilities. The Oak King’s ascent is gentle. The roots we tend now will anchor the growth that comes with spring.

So dear Heart, I invite you—let Elder Mother’s wisdom stir your curiosity. Sit in the darkness and listen. What is asking to be released? What is longing to be born through you as the light returns? May you honor the darkness, wash your bones, and celebrate the return of the sun. May the magic of Elder Mother and the blessings of the Oak King guide you into a year of deeper wisdom, gentler beginnings, and radiant growth.

Blessed Solstice, and may your journey be rich with wonder and new life.

Amba