The Flame That Will Never Fail: Blessed Imbolc

Those who contemplate the beauty of the Earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of Nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.
Rachel Carson, Silent Spring

Today is the ancient celebration of Brighid, Imbolc, or Candlemas, as some may call it. And for our friends in the Southern Hemisphere, we wish you a Blessed Lughnasadh today!

This is a cross-quarter Sabbat, meaning that it falls halfway between the astronomical times of Solstice and Equinox, making it between Feb. 1 and 3, depending on your tradition and desire for celestial precision. Another sky marker of Imbolc for those of us above the Equator is that it is celebrated when the Pleiades are at their zenith in the sky at sunset.

By whichever name or method you like, Imbolc (usually pronounced “Imm’-ulg”) is the time when we of the Old Ways dedicate to new studies, renew our spiritual devotions, undergo initiation to a new level of practice, or perhaps simply bless the seeds of our intentions for the coming year.

The Promise

Those of us who align our lives with Mother Earth’s seasons, the rhythms of stars, Moon, and sky, and the moving arc of light and dark across the Wheel of the Year know that regardless of the self-destructing paradigm and human-created drama and chaos, the time of rebirth and renewal has come.

Even though there is still harsh Winter ahead for many more weeks, the dark time of the year is truly over. With the newly born lambs now coming in, and the first callings of mating birds, hope is assured. Imbolc is Life’s Promise: no matter what craziness and dark fear the human race is conjuring, Nature is bigger, stronger, and will abide.

Feel the shift, inhale fragrant winds of change. Dawn comes earlier each day. Buds on the trees are swelling. Blossoms are plotting their debut. Roots are feeding the green shoots that will soon burst through snow and cold mud.

Pay attention to this.

Limit your news diet to only what you need, in order to act on behalf of what you value. More is toxic to the spirit and runs quite counter to the Divine Promise of this time. Indeed, the dying system and its hateful, desperate machinations would love to trick us into doubting our power, and the power of our mother, Gaia.

Although we have all been drenched in foul waters of geopolitical poison and devastating judicial and ecological regression, Imbolc is the proof that the Wheel of the Year always, always, always turns.

Trust this Turning. It is far older and more potent than the smirking, wicked little men pulling their strings and cheating the system.

This, too, shall pass. We, the women and men of spirit and Earth awareness, will never waver in our love and dedication to wise stewardship, alignment with our beautiful planet, and peaceful cooperation with all orders of Life.

For now, we can see that no matter how many shadows and spells of hate-filled fear are thrown by the power elite, the light has assuredly grown longer and stronger since our wreath lightings at Solstice. All of us can feel the stirrings of life’s renewal in the land. Dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.

The time of healing, growing, and life’s vigor is inevitable and assured. The curtain is rising on the bright new year, and the changing of the age, too.

Courage, my darlings! Be of good cheer.

We Will Never Lose Our Way to the Well

We can harmonize with this joyful, loving energy by choosing new ways to nurture our spiritual growth and service.

One of my favorite ways to observe this holiday is to bless some actual seeds that I will be planting, once the ground is warm and the danger of frost has passed. They may represent a creative dream I have for the coming growing season, or fondest wishes and hopes about my cherished relationships. Or they may simply be seeds chosen to help our wild neighbors in our woods.

Here at Laurel Hill, our home in northern Durham County, North Carolina, we are blessed with fresh, sweet water that gushes from a well with its source deep in our sacred land.

So at this time, especially mindful of recent droughts and other threats to safe, plentiful drinking water, we humbly ask Brighid to bless and protect our well and, indeed, all the waters of the world. (To read my essay about the Goddess, Brighid, whose time this also is, I invite you to visit here).

Even if you use city tap water, blessing your faucets, sinks, and pipes with thanksgiving, song, and other devotional practices would be appropriate at this time.

It’s easy to take it for granted that most of us can turn on the tap and unlimited clean water comes out. But as tragic events around our nation and the world remind us, we are extremely fortunate for this life-giving gift, and it is one that can vanish or be poisoned, with little warning, and, evidently, little to no remediation.

The Light of Awakening

Other rites you might consider at this time include celebrating the return of the Sun’s light. In many Pagan homes at sunset, it is a tradition to light every lamp in the home, for at least a few moments. Or you might like to light a special candle in every room. Alternately, light a red candle and place this in a prominent window.

If you have snow on the ground where you live, walk in it for a while, and draw a magical symbol of the Sun, as your message to the sleeping Earth, encouraging Her to awaken.

Whether you have snow or not, if the weather is not too dire today, take a mindful walk around the areas near your home. Recall how those places feel during High Summer. How are the sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings now different?

Priestessing Enchantment

As you remember the Summertime, send that memory out to the trees, plants, creatures, devas, and other beings with whom you share your neighborhood. I personally like to do this by singing, humming, or chanting.

You, too, can call to Gaia’s slumbering children, reminding them that Winter’s grip is loosening, and soon you will be welcoming their presence. Or, like the traditional Morris Dancers, you can dance upon the sleeping Earth, ringing jingle bells, and smacking magical sticks together to awaken Her creatures.

With your songs and words, you are engaging in the original sense of the word en-chantment: to chant or sing with intention, to achieve a desired result. By doing so, you bless and bring to life all within the sound of your voice.

You can also do this to invoke the protectors of the Land — the ancient Underworld beings who are the guardians of Gaia’s well-being. I am sure you agree that we are in great need of their assistance, as current governments seem intent on undoing the progress on environmental protections and mediation we have worked so hard for. So as you celebrate the strengthening of the Sun’s fire, take this opportunity to establish or deepen your cooperation with them.

This is also an ideal time to refresh your acquaintance with the magic of poetry, one of dear Brighid’s great gifts to humanity.

For those of you (a rapidly diminishing number, I hope!) who think you are not fond of poetry, let me invite you to erase all the tedium you may associate with it, tainted by drab school-teachers with no soul.

Poetry is the oldest form of spellcraft, and is always more vibrant and alive when spoken aloud, for that is how it is written to be. And much of it is far hotter and more inspiring than the sanitized bits we were made to plow through in school.

I could go on and on, of course, but the day is moving on, and I have more enchantments of my own still to attend to.

So I will close for now, simply noting that in whatever ways you choose to honor this happy time, I wish you merry meet, and merry part, and merry we shall meet again.

Brighid of the mantle, encompass us;
Lady of the lambs, protect us;
Keeper of the hearth, kindle us;
Beneath your mantle, gather us;
And restore us to memory.
~ Caitlín Matthews, A Blessing for Hearth Keepers

With deepest gratitude to RJ Stewart, Anastacia Nutt, and all the Shining Guardians and Teachers in my life.

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