Depending on your reckoning, Imbolc either begins tomorrow (2/1) or the next day (2/2).
This is my least favorite holiday. So far as I can tell, there are two possible variations. It can be a celebration of the first stirrings of life in the cold. A lovely sentiment, but not terribly appropriate when you are in the middle of the coldest part of winter. Any sheep or cows foolish enough to give birth in this weather will not be passing on their genes in the immediate future. Alternatively, this holiday could be sacred to Brigit, Celtic goddess of poetry, smithies, and healing. She is a wonderful Lady, but not one with whom I have had the honor of working, and it seems presumptuous to pretend a relationship with her for one holiday in the year. Thus, that avenue is also closed to me.
For years, I've solved the problem by basically ignoring the holiday. I hate February, and by this point in the winter I generally hate everything else, as well. But this year is different. For the first time, I'm working a job with regular enough hours that I've been able to notice the days getting longer. It isn't pitch dark when I leave work anymore, and that seems pretty amazing! It calls for a celebration. But of course, it is still too damn cold to think about the return of life....
But I recently discovered a third way of looking at Imbolc, courtesy of Goddess in a Teapot. She suggests looking at it as a holiday of the hearth, of everyday life. And that struck a chord. I spend this time of year feeling like a prisoner of the cold, the dark, the gloom, the endless dreary brown tree trunks and dead grass.... but why not look at it as an opportunity? Yule tends to be too busy to really turn within, so that comes after the holidays are over. But now we can look outward, just a tiny bit. Not out into the big wide world, not out into bold adventures, but outwards just enough to enjoy our homes. To bake cookies. To light a fire. To attend to all the little projects that we put off until 'someday' comes. That is an Imbolc that I can celebrate. That is a holiday that I can believe in.
This year, I will be leaving for Arizona on Imbolc, which I suppose is the opposite of what I have now established as it's meaning. But what if it isn't? What if I need to go away for a bit to appreciate all that I have here? I don't know if that is the case. If not, then I can always celebrate the holiday in mid-February, when I return home.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
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2 comments:
I really do hear you. Imbolc is weird because it sure doesn't seem like anything is brightening up. But I love it anyway! I think of Imbolc as halfway-to-spring...The mornings are a smidge lighter; things are a little more hopeful; and around here we even have some optimistic shoots on the trees. I like lighting a bunch of candles to celebrate Imbolc... and this year will be my first Imbolc with a coven. We will have nummy food and fellowship...what better way to encourage the light to keep on coming! Blessings to you!
I wish you could come to our ritual. It's full of light and hope and food and warmth! I do know what you mean about February though, that's why it's always nice to have something to look forward to. Az sounds good this time of year.
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