I didn’t post anything for Imbolc but off-line I was busy with crafts & ritual. It’s my favorite pagan holiday on the wheel. It’s not as dramatic as Yule or Samhain. The energy can be subtle. I like to imagine the bulbs underneath the earth. We can’t see them but growth and transformation are happing. Everything is thawing and fragile shoots are ready to push up thru the cold winter dirt. For me, Imbolc represents hope and renewal. This year I needed an extra dose of hope. So many of my friends and family stated that they did as well. I had a long prayer request list that I placed in the cauldron on my altar.
I put together a full-blown ritual on Saturday Feb. 1st to honor the first stirrings of the return of spring and to honor my own life force returning. I dressed up in ritual garb—a long flowing white gown. I called on the Goddess Brigid in Her aspects of healer, poet and artisan. It was beautiful and helpful and I am still feeling the lovely energy from the weekend lingering in my ritual space. As life affirming as this was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that an essential ingredient was missing from my ritual.
On Sunday, I discovered a different sort of Imbolc post on a friend’s FB page. (I included it at the end of this post) It immediately resonated. I was brought to tears by its truth and by our ability to continue no matter the storm. What was missing in my ritual were prayers and words that addressed and affirmed how many of us are experiencing the world.
I’m still sitting with the following blog post and processing how it impacted me. My questions to myself are: What resources do I need to navigate this uncharted political landscape? Self-care is a given but what sort of vision do I need to hold? What does the landscape look like beyond the here and now? What part can I play in bringing that about? What prayers do I need in my pockets? What books are helpful? What art do I need to create to express my interior landscape? How do I empower myself when everything around me is so disempowering? And how do I continue when it feels like all is lost?
I am wondering how we collectively navigate this unsafe world that has become so narrow and brittle in what and who it accepts. These are not kind times. What poems do I need to read, write and carry with me?
What do I need to purge? I am also asking myself, what old agreements, thoughts, ideas and believes need to be offered to a holy fire?
My Saturday night Imbolc ritual has taken on a life of its own. It is now ongoing and has morphed into an invitation to go deeper—to go beneath the surface like the Imbolc bulbs waiting to push up thru the dirt. In these uncertain times it is imperative we gather together our resources.
I am deeply grateful for the following blog post. I hope it speaks to you as much as it spoke to me. And I would love for whoever might be interested to send poems or insights that sustain them. I would be honored to share them so that we all might benefit. I am collecting words, poems, photos and insights to create a Holy book that I can use as a road map as I navigate these troubled waters.
A huge Thank You to the author of the following blog post. You helped me to dig deeper in my own internal soil and to pick at truths that are still in the budding stage. I am most grateful.
This is a prayer for Imbolc.
This is a prayer for when roads flood.
This is a prayer for the lingering dark.
This is a prayer for resistance.
We spark the fires to beg the light to return, but we never really know if it will work. The road may flood; this could be the year it all falls apart. The February rains may be too much. We fire up the forge to bend hard metal to our will, but we never really know if it will work. The road may flood; this could be the year that it all falls apart. The February rains may be too much. We write the poem to express what’s inside, but we never really know if it will work. The road may flood; this could be the year it all falls apart. The February rains may be too much.
Imbolc is a chance…
View original post 470 more words