Time, Memory, and Finding Healing in Stories

Feb 22

**When Time Feels Heavy**

There are places where time doesn’t move the way it should, Some landscapes hold the past so tightly that you can feel it in the air

Where every step feels like retracing something already written. Tywod Skye (The Hourglass of Skye) captures this sensation: the weight of memory, the presence of history, and the way certain places seem to whisper stories of those who came before us.

Grief, too, has a strange relationship with time. Some days, it feels like we are standing still while the world rushes past. Other days, memories flood back so vividly that we feel like we've stepped backward, reliving them in the present. And yet, time always moves forward. The sand in the hourglass never stops slipping through our fingers.

But what if time isn’t just about moving forward? What if our memories are not just things lost to the past but something we can carry with us? In folklore, history, and the places we walk, we find ways to keep the people we’ve loved close, even as time moves on.

In this article, we explore two powerful ways to connect with memory and healing:

Walking through landscapes as a way to process grief and memory.
Understanding the role of folklore, symbols, and archetypes in shaping how we experience loss.

Through these, we learn that healing is not about forgetting or letting go—it’s about walking alongside our memories and finding meaning in the stories we tell.

Landscape as a Bridge Between Past and Present

How Places Hold Memory

Have you ever walked somewhere and felt the weight of history? Some landscapes seem to hum with the echoes of the past. In Tywod Skye, the protagonist walks through misty hills and past cairns, feeling as though the stories of those who came before still linger.

This sensation isn’t just poetic—it’s real. Studies have shown that our surroundings deeply affect how we remember things. Certain landscapes trigger memories, evoke emotions, and create a sense of connection with those we’ve lost.

Natural places like forests, mountains, and shorelines often serve as places of reflection, where people instinctively turn to process loss.
Places with personal significance—the home where a loved one lived, a favorite park, or a childhood beach—can be powerful spaces for remembering.
Sites of collective memory, such as ancient ruins, burial cairns, and folklore-rich locations, remind us that grief and remembrance are part of a much larger human experience.

The Power of Grief Walks

Walking has long been recognized as a therapeutic way to process emotions. When we walk, we engage both body and mind, allowing thoughts to flow more freely. Grief walks—whether done alone or in a group—offer a way to engage with memories while physically moving through space.

There are different ways to approach grief walks:

Solitary Reflection Walks

Walking alone in a meaningful place allows time for personal reflection.
Some people bring a small token (a stone, a piece of jewelry, or a note) to leave behind as a symbolic act.
Others take photos or record thoughts along the way, using the walk as a moment to check in with themselves emotionally.

Group Grief Walks

Many bereavement groups organize nature walks where people can share stories while walking together. These walks can be a powerful reminder that grief is not something we carry alone.

Talking while walking often makes it easier to open up than sitting in a formal setting.
Seeing how others are processing their grief helps normalize our own emotions.
Shared silence in nature can be just as powerful as conversation—sometimes, just walking alongside others is enough.

How to Find or Organize a Grief Walk

Look for bereavement groups that organize walking events. Many hospice organizations and mental health charities offer them.
Join a mental health walking group—even if it’s not specifically for grief, these walks provide a supportive space for emotional processing.
Start a personal ritual—walking in a specific place on meaningful dates, or choosing a trail where you reflect on memories with a loved one.

Resources for Walking and Mental Health

Ramblers Wellbeing Walks – Community walking groups for mental wellbeing.
Walk Talk Walk (Mental Health Mates) – Peer-led walking groups for mental health support.
The Good Grief Trust – Grief resources, including community-led walking events.

Folklore and Symbols as Healing Tools

The Role of Storytelling in Processing Grief

Why do we tell stories? From ancient myths to bedtime tales, narratives help us make sense of life’s biggest transitions—birth, love, loss, and death. Many of the stories passed down through generations are, at their core, about grief and transformation.

In Tywod Skye, we see symbols of loss and remembrance:

"Yn od, ydy? Mae amser yn araf yma, fel petai’r byd wedi dal ei anadl."
"Strange, isn’t it? Time moves so slowly here, as if the world is holding its breath."

"Wyt ti’n cofio’r straeon ro’n ni’n eu hadrodd, am y tylwyth teg yn dawnsio ar y bryniau?"
"Do you remember the stories we used to tell, about the fairies dancing on the hills?"

Mae’r niwl yn lapio’r bryniau fel mantell hen,
The mist wraps the hills like an old cloak,

Mae’r llyn yn adlewyrchu’r awyr wedi’i dorri’n den.
The lake reflects a sky broken and soaked.

Bob cam yn drwm, yn llawn o amser,
Each step feels heavy, full of time,

Olion hen lwybrau, yn dilyn rhythm y llamau.
Tracing old paths, following the rhythm’s climb.

Trwy’r cwm lle mae cysgodion yn gorwedd,
Through the valley where shadows rest,

Mae’r carn yn sefyll, yn uchel ac yn freuddwyd.
The cairn stands tall, a dream manifest.

Tywysoges Norwyaidd yn gorwedd yn dawel,
A Norwegian princess lies quietly there,

Ei sylw’n bell, ei serch yn drasig a thragwyddol.
Her gaze distant, her love a tragic affair.

A dyma fi’n cerdded, gyda’i stori yn llaw,
And here I walk, her story in hand,

Mae’r tywod yn llifo, yn chwalu fel traw.
The sand flows swiftly, slipping like strands.

O, mae’r tywod yn llithro, yr awrwydr yn troi,
Oh, the sand slips through, the hourglass turns,

Trwy holltau cof, lle mae’r sibrydion yn llwy.
Through cracks of memory, where whispers burn.

Ni wnaiff amser aros, ond mae’n symud fel y lli,
Time won’t wait, but it moves like the tide,

Ond mae’r straeon yn aros, yn fy nghalon i.
Yet the stories remain, held deep inside.

Wrth y twmpath tylwyth teg, lle mae tawelwch yn canu,
By the fairy mound, where silence sings,

Dawns ddirgel, mae’r awyr yn gymaint ag arw.
A secret dance, the sky’s rough wings.

Mae’r ceffyl dŵr yn aros yn yr afon ddu,
The water horse waits in the darkened stream,

Ei lygaid fel cysgod mewn breuddwyd wedi’i chwalu.
Its eyes like shadows in a shattered dream.

Clywaf eu camau, er nad oes neb gerllaw,
I hear their steps, though no one’s near,

Y gorffennol a’r presennol, i gyd yma’n glir fel llawr.
Past and present, both sharp and clear.

Ac mae’r awrwydr yn troi, y tywod yn newid,
And the hourglass turns, the sand shifts anew,

Y straeon a ddaliaf, maen nhw’n ail-ffurfio’n gywir.
The stories I hold reshape what’s true.

O, mae’r tywod yn llithro, yr awrwydr yn troi,
Oh, the sand slips through, the hourglass turns,

Trwy holltau cof, lle mae’r sibrydion yn llwy.
Through cracks of memory, where whispers burn.

Ni wnaiff amser aros, ond mae’n gadael ôl,
Time won’t wait, but it leaves its trace,

Map o’r galon, lle tragwyddol.
A map of the heart, an eternal place.

Mae’r môr yn canu straeon wrth y traeth,
The sea sings stories along the shore,

Am fywydau fu, am y chwedlau a’r byth.
Of lives lived, of legends and more.

Mewn pob cysgod, mewn pob awel,
In every shadow, in every breeze,

Mae llais yn aros, enaid yn teimlo’n gyflawn.
A voice remains, a soul feels complete.

Rwy’n gadael fy olion traed yn y tywod yn llawn,
I leave my footprints in the sand so full,

Marc bregus ar dir heb amser i ddawn.
A fragile mark on ground with no pull.

Mae’r niwl yn codi, y llwybr yn glir,
The mist rises, the path is clear,

Bob cam a gymeraf, dwi’n ei chario’n agos, fel fy nhrig.
Every step I take, I carry it close, like my home.

O, mae’r tywod yn llithro, yr awrwydr yn troi,
Oh, the sand slips through, the hourglass turns,

Trwy holltau cof, lle mae’r sibrydion yn llwy.
Through cracks of memory, where whispers burn.

Ni wnaiff amser aros, ond nid yw’n dileu,
Time won’t wait, but it does not erase,

Y cariad a rannwyd, yn aros yn wir.
The love we shared, forever stays.

"Wyt ti’n ei deimlo hefyd? Fel petai nhw dal yma rywsut."
"Do you feel it too? As if they’re still here somehow."

"Yn y straeon, yn y gwynt, yn y lli... am byth."
"In the stories, in the wind, in the tide... forever."

Mae’r llyn yn llonydd, y carn yn sefyll yn wir,
The lake is still, the cairn stands sincere,

Mae’r straeon yn byw ymlaen, mewn galon sydd yn bur.
The stories live on, in a heart so pure.

Wrth i’r tywod lifo, wrth i’r awrwydr droi,
As the sand flows, as the hourglass turns,

Dwi’n cario popeth, y hen a’r newydd, yn fy mywyd yn loyw.
I carry it all, the old and the new, in my life aglow

The water horse (Ceffyl Dŵr) – A creature from Welsh and Scottish folklore that lurks in rivers and lakes, symbolizing the hidden forces of fate and the unknown.
The cairn and the Norwegian princess – A burial marker that ties love and tragedy to the landscape, showing how places hold memory.
The fairies dancing on the hills – A representation of time standing still, where the past and present seem to blur.

These images are more than just poetic—they represent something deep within our collective psyche.

Understanding Archetypes in Stories of Loss

Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell have shown that stories repeat across cultures because they reflect universal human experiences. Some common archetypes in grief narratives include:

The Wanderer: The person who walks alone, searching for something they have lost.
The Guardian of the Past: The old storyteller, the historian, or the wise figure who preserves memory.
The Threshold Keeper: A mythical being (like a water horse or fairy) that represents the boundary between past and present.

These archetypes appear again and again because they help us process emotions we can’t always put into words.

How to Use Storytelling for Healing

Identify personal symbols – What objects, places, or myths resonate with your loss?
Write your own grief myth – Imagine your grief as a journey through a landscape, meeting figures along the way.
Explore cultural folklore about grief – Look into how different traditions use storytelling to process loss.

Resources for Exploring Storytelling and Healing

Myths and Legends Podcast – A collection of stories from folklore.
The Folklore Society – Research on storytelling’s role in culture.
What’s Your Grief? – Articles on using creativity to process loss.

Conclusion: Carrying Stories Forward

Time moves forward, but that doesn’t mean we leave our memories behind. Tywod Skye reminds us that while the sand slips through the hourglass, the stories remain.

Whether through walking in landscapes that hold meaning, embracing folklore and archetypes as tools for reflection, or simply recognizing that our grief is part of a much older human experience, we find ways to carry love forward.

Healing isn’t about erasing grief—it’s about learning how to walk alongside it, shaping it into something that becomes part of our journey rather than just an absence.

So where will your next step take you?

Astral Sailor