top of page
Search

Closing the Bones: a ceremony of Healing, Honour and Coming home to Ourselves

There are certain moments in life that change us forever — birth, loss, transformation, love, endings, and beginnings. The Closing the Bones ceremony offers a sacred space to honour these transitions and to help the body, mind, and spirit come home to centre.


A Tradition of Care and Remembering


The Closing the Bones ceremony that I practise comes from Ecuador, where it has been passed down through generations of midwives and healers. It’s one of many similar traditions found across South and Central America — and, indeed, versions of this kind of care would once have been offered all over the world.


At its heart, it’s a ceremony of deep nurture, originally offered soon after birth to help a woman’s body and spirit heal, gather, and be held after the immense expansion of pregnancy and labour.


But what I love about this work is that it’s not limited to the postpartum period. It can be offered years — even decades — later, to bring closure, healing, or honouring to any major life event. We all go through moments that reshape us, and this ceremony offers a way to mark and integrate those experiences with gentleness and reverence.


Why I Offer Closing the Bones


I’ve held Closing the Bones ceremonies for many women — those newly postpartum, and those wishing to honour or find closure around other transitions in life. Every ceremony feels powerful in its own way.


Sometimes, it’s to acknowledge the end of a breastfeeding journey or to process the grief of baby loss. Other times, it’s to mark menopause, a divorce, recovery from surgery, or simply a moment of deep personal transformation. I’ve also held ceremonies for people healing from trauma, ancestral pain, or overwhelm — moments where being gently held and witnessed can be profoundly restorative.


What moves me most is how each ceremony creates space — a moment to pause, breathe, and be cared for. In that stillness, something often shifts. There’s a softening, a sense of coming back to oneself.


What Happens in a Closing the Bones Ceremony


During the ceremony, I use warm, nourishing oils to massage the ribs, abdomen, hips, and upper body — helping the body release tension and reconnect with its natural flow. Then, using traditional rebozos (handwoven shawls or mantas), I gently rock, sift, and wrap the body — especially the hips — in a rhythmic, grounding way that supports circulation and energy movement.


When the body is fully wrapped — cocooned in eight rebozos — the person is held in stillness. Depending on what feels right for them, we might share silence, meditation, gentle sound healing, or guided visualisation. It’s a deeply held, respectful space that invites rest, release, and reconnection.


Honouring the Postpartum Journey


For new mothers, Closing the Bones can begin as early as six hours after birth and is especially nurturing in the weeks following. Traditionally, it’s offered multiple times within the first 40 days — the “fourth trimester” — helping the body’s organs, ligaments, and energy to realign and supporting recovery, circulation, and breastfeeding.


But beyond the physical healing, it gives something often overlooked in our modern culture: time to be cared for. Time to integrate the profound experience of birth and to be held as the new mother emerges.


A Ceremony for All of Life’s Thresholds


Although rooted in South and Central American tradition, I believe that ceremonies like this once existed everywhere — in every culture, every community. Over time here in UK, we’ve lost many of our ways of honouring and supporting one another through life’s transitions.


Offering Closing the Bones feels, to me, like helping to remember something ancient — something that has always been ours as humans.


Each ceremony is a moment of reverence: for the body, for the journey, and for the courage it takes to live fully. Whether you come to mark a beginning, an ending, or simply to reconnect with yourself, Closing the Bones offers a gentle, sacred invitation — to pause, to feel, and to come home.


 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page