I buried my son in Nicaragua
A reflection on my recent return to Nicaragua and how geography can amplify emotion and grief.
As I lay my exhausted, bony body on English soil,
weeping for my son,
I reflect, with heartache,
on my recent return to Nicaragua.
The land I fell in love with —
and the land where my heart was shattered.
Some places seem to hold a different kind of energy.
They amplify love, or pain.
They teach.
Recently I discovered astrocartography — astrological mapping.
It suggests that your astrological birth chart corresponds with specific places on Earth,
where the energies of each planet are more potent in your life.
Each planet represents a kind of energy or theme.
Your Venus line would indicate a country where the potential to find love is the strongest, while your Pluto line could indicate a place where there is potential for loss and transformation.
It made sense —
why I never felt quite at home in England,
why I felt magnetized to India, to Latin America,
and why, when I arrived in Nicaragua,
I felt an almost ancient sense of being home.
There is another concept I have heard of —
but not explored extensively —
of the Earth’s energy centers or chakras.
These are places on Earth where the energy of each chakra is most concentrated.
For example, the heart chakra of the Earth is said to be Glastonbury, UK.
Though Nicaragua isn’t named among the Earth’s chakras,
she holds an undeniably potent energy.
A country rich
in natural beauty,
fertility,
ecological diversity,
and the fierce energetic potential of her volcanoes.
A history steeped in
suffering,
resilience,
and compassion.
The relentless heat,
wild winds,
and merciless storms.
She is Grandmother energy —
wise,
ancient,
nurturing,
yet capable of giving tough, transformative lessons.
For those who are enticed by her beauty —
beware...
you will not be the same person you were when you arrived.
She has a way of demolishing anything that is no longer part of your path
in one fell swoop.
Of chewing you up and spitting you out —
back onto the earth where you belong,
humbly asking for guidance.
I fell in love with Nicaragua.
A country where people live from their heart.
It was fun —
often chaotic...
familiar, perhaps,
though also like a new world to explore —
exciting,
awe-filled.
It took me a heartbeat to make the decision to stay.
I could see by the synchronicities
that I was in deep alignment with my soul path.
Dot after dot was connected —
and before I knew it,
whilst the rest of the world had descended into chaos and lockdown,
I was nestled on the land with my partner and his community,
Learning how to use a machete,
discovering all the exotic trees and fruits,
and washing my clothes by hand.
It came as no surprise to me that Nicaragua happened to be the place
where my life seemed to expand...
I realized a purpose in women’s work.
I gave birth to my son.
I built my house...
Though what I never imagined
was that my beloved son would die here.
James was buried the day after he died,
in a tombstone in the local cemetery,
amongst his Nicaraguan ancestors —
following tradition.
I never thought I would bury my own son.
I was not at all prepared for his burial..
But since my son was born, lived, and died on this land,
it seemed right to follow Nicaraguan tradition.
When big trauma and loss happen,
the instinct is to be with family —
those closest to you.
So I flew straight back to England.
England felt safe,
calm,
nurturing.
The motherland.
I wouldn’t need to tax my brain with Spanish,
and I could rest and grieve in the familiar —
with those who know me best.
I spent my first year of grief in England —
grieving my son’s death,
my separation from his father,
and my separation from Nicaragua and my community.
Somehow I knew I was where I was meant to be.
Though half my mind —
half my heart —
part of my soul...
was in Nicaragua.
I waited 14 months before I returned.
My father offered to accompany me,
and I was deeply thankful.
Returning to the land triggered all kinds of emotions.
My nervous system felt as though I was in the wilds —
alert to the rustling of leaves and the appearance of lions and tigers.
A loud noise,
the sound of a motorbike,
even a ringtone,
was enough to send my nervous system into overdrive.
I was showered con amor by my Nicaraguan family.
I screamed my tears into the ocean.
I was held by the forest.
But in truth,
there were moments where I felt resentful —
that this place had caused me so much pain.
I planted my feet into the earth
and did my best to fight the urge to run away.
But it was too much.
After a rollercoaster of a month,
I finally made the decision to return to England.
Grieving my son,
the life I had made in Nicaragua —
my community,
the land
and the way of life —
is part of my path.
2024 brought one of the biggest endings I have ever felt.
Returning to the land was an act of closing the door —
for a while —
and staying curious for it to open again...
or not.
For now, I’m opening myself up to possibility.
Standing in the unknown.
Waiting to be shown the way.
Waiting for the pull.
I’m curious…
Are there certain places where you have experienced fated events?
Big life transitions and growth?
A feeling of home?
How does it feel to return?
What are your thoughts?
Profoundly moving… Rachel- you are amazing! Heartfelt best wishes to you- and to us all- for discovering that new door to a life of growth, fulfilment and- yes- happiness 😁