I lit a fire in my cauldron. Once it was well established I began to feed a large cutting from my Yule tree into it, piece by piece. With each piece, the flames suddenly flared into life, reaching high above the confines of the cauldron, terrifying in their majesty and their capacity to set off a smoke detector.
When I fed the dry branch from my Yule tree into the fire, I felt shackles release what I hadn't been aware of bearing, the release of a breath I didn't know I was holding. I had intended to do some sort of cleansing after the ritual to rid myself of the free-floating anger I have been carrying these past few weeks, but it is now gone. I released the bindings of winter, allowed my own heartfire to consume what no longer served, and now feel enlivened and free. I want to say it's like a breathe of fresh air to my soul, but no – this is the cleansing renewal of a wildfire, which I did not understand until this moment.
I feel cleansed and full in a way I couldn't dream of this morning. All hail Brigid, tender of the flame, patroness of inspiration! And all hail Freya, goddess who governs my days!
Flames consume debris
Burn away ancient anger
Ash settles like snow
~my offering to Brigid
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