Psychopomp at Rosslyn Chapel

Yesterday I returned to Rosslyn Chapel for the first time since 2012. I had forgotten how beautiful this little chapel is, the lace stone carvings, the peaceful atmosphere.

One of the things I appreciate most is the care with which the chapel is protected. Visitors book timed slots, so only a limited number of people are inside at any one time, and photography and filming are not permitted, so everyone can be in the space without the frenzy of phones and cameras. In a world where so many sacred places have become little more than backdrops for a photograph, I found that deeply refreshing.

Since the publication of The Da Vinci Code, Rosslyn has welcomed visitors from all over the world. The increase in tourism has helped fund the restoration and ongoing care of this unique place. It has also turned it into one of Scotland's most visited sacred sites.

Ironically, I have never read the book. My own pilgrimage to Rosslyn came from my interest in ancient places of prayer, ceremony and devotion.

As I wandered through the chapel yesterday, memories of my first visit began to return. It was here, fourteen years ago, that I had one of my earliest spontaneous psychopomp experiences.

In the summer of 2012 I already had experience as a healer and a teacher, but psychopomp was not something I knew much about. Looking back, I realise how little I understood. Then again, perhaps that is still true. The more I learn, the more I see how much more there is to learn.

As I explored the chapel that day, I remember having a rather sudden feeling of drifting into a non ordinary state of consciousness. My heart began to race and I found myself drawn towards the staircase that leads down into the crypt.

When I reached the last step, a wave of energy overtook me. It rose through my feet and my legs with such force that I was rooted to the spot. It was a full body experience. Then In that moment, I perceived the presence of souls who were asking to be guided home.

I had no training for this. Instinctively I called on my guides, on Great Spirit, on the universal forces of compassion and light. I became a channel and, while the powerful waves of energy travelled across my entire body, I prayed for the souls that were going into the light. Time stood still, and somehow, though the chapel was busy that day, I was left alone in the crypt for the duration of the ceremony.

Gradually the intensity slowed and my awareness returned to ordinary reality. I looked around at the walls. and the inscriptions, everything was quiet again for a moment, before I heard people coming. So I climbed the stairs and stepped back outside.

The moment the fresh Scottish air touched my face, I burst into tears. I found a bench in the gardens and sat. I felt discombobulated and deeply moved at the same time. And, if I am honest, a little upset. The experience had been profound but I felt ambushed by it. I had not consciously agreed to any of it. I had simply found myself in the middle of something larger than me. As I sat there, I felt my guides gather around me with great gentleness. Their presence settled me. Little by little my breathing slowed, warmth spread through me and I was fully present in my body again. Eventually I gave thanks and left.

That was not my last psychopomp experience. Over the years the work has expanded, through dreams, through healing sessions, in ceremony, and sometimes when I least expected it. As my practice deepened, so did my understanding of what psychopomp really is.

Psychopomp is the practice of guiding the souls into the light. Although it is often associated with shamanism today, the role lives in many spiritual traditions around the world. Different cultures give it different names and different ceremonies, yet so many of them recognise the same thing: the importance of accompanying the dying, praying for the departed, helping souls complete their passage, and tending the relationship between the worlds with loving care.

Psychopomp is an act of service. Like all sacred work, it asks for humility, discernment, and a willingness to step aside so that something greater can move through us.

One of the things I learned from the Rosslyn, is about setting boundaries. Back then, I did not know I could say no. Today I know that I can choose to be a channel, and I can step back respectfully if I feel that it's not my place to do so. I can discern whether I'm able in that moment, if I have the time and the energy levels necessary. If I feel it in my heart and in my bones that it's my job to help there and then, I can be an active participant rather than being swept along. And if I sense it is not mine to do, I trust that Spirit has many other hands through which the work can be carried, in due time.

That understanding has helped me put my priorities straight, look after myself, and also brought me peace.

Because it's not always easy to say no when we're asked for help, whether it's from spirits or from the living. I know many people who feel an obligation to step in and help, even if that is detrimental to their wellbeing. Such matters need to be thoughtfully considered. We are feeling, loving creatures and we feel drawn to assist others in need. This is noble and it's also important to recognise that compassion goes a long way without stretching ourselves too thin.

Yesterday I walked down those same stone steps again. The crypt was full of visitors and together we enjoyed the craftsmanship, the beauty of the stonework, the long history held in those walls, and the peace that still makes Rosslyn such a remarkable place.

Afterwards I wandered through the gardens and sat on the very same bench from fourteen years ago.

The younger woman who came here in 2012 had been initiated, without warning, into a mystery she wasn't seeking. The woman on that bench yesterday has more experience, many ceremonies under her belt, and a deeper, more conscious relationship with the unseen. She simply sat there and enjoyed the quiet moment.

Spiritual growth is not measured by the number of extraordinary experiences we collect. It is carved from the wisdom, humility and discernment we acquire along the way.

If you feel called to explore the shamanic practice, these are some of the subjects I teach within my one-to-one shamanic mentorship programmes. Together we build strong foundations before approaching more specialised work such as psychopomp, soul retrieval and compassionate spirit release. My intention is to grow grounded practitioners who can walk between the worlds with integrity, discernment and deep compassion. Get in touch to find out more