Threshold Seasoning: The Shining Day of Imbolc
Hello dear ones
I decided to spin a little tale for Imbolc (northern hemisphere). Threshold. Seasons of the Soul. Ceridwen’s Cauldron. I like telling this tale this time of year. With the changing light. The stirring of transformation and change, told through the shapeshifting chase that ensues in the tale.
The Cailleach - the old crone of winter - she who symbolizes all that is dark, cold, wintry, destructive but also powerful - she is becoming young again. At Imbolc she gives way to the Bride - Brigid/Brigit - Goddess/Saint - maiden of light, illumination, inspiration.
In some stories, the Cailleach has kept Brigit in a cave - to keep her light from tending all things new and young. Cailleach does have important things to teach us. Even if they are uncomfortable. However, this time of year, light begins to emerge. Calleach and Brigid face one another. The Bride brings renewal. Praise be.
Brigid brings protection. Renewal. Inspiration. Poetry. Fire. Truth.
She stirs the belly of the earth. The belly of the belly. The belly of the cauldron. The belly of the belly.
What stirs in you this time of year?
Old woman winter, it's time to go!
Take with you these piles of snow!
Melt, snow, melt! Spring will soon return!
A flame, a fire, all the warmth it brings,
melt the snow, cold be gone,
welcome back the spring!
We stand at the cusp. The midway point between winter and spring in the Northern Hemisphere. Between summer and autumn in the Southern. On the Wheel of the Year, Imbolc and Lughnasadh are polarity sisters - opposite points, same angle of sun, facing different directions in the cycle.
Take some time to notice the quality of the light, for it is the same now as that golden glow of late summer’s first harvest, though in an opposite direction. But instead of the season of fullness and waning before us, in the Northern Hemisphere, the season of light and growth lies ahead. And so we prepare ourselves with rites of renewal, cleansing, and commitment. We celebrate the first stirrings of Spring.
This is the gateway where Cailleach transforms into Brigid. Winter Crone yields to Spring Maiden. Dark sister meets Light sister at the threshold. Power shifts. The hag becomes the bride. The nightmare becomes the sacred dream. Either which way -we are in the holy wild threshold of her belly.
Artist: Unknown
In the Belly
Imbolc - from the Old Irish i mbolc, meaning “in the belly” - refers to the pregnancy of ewes at this time of year. The earth mother’s belly is full of seeds. The lamb mother prepares for birth. The soul mother stirs with new possibility.
This is one of the four great Gaelic seasonal festivals - along with Bealtaine, Lughnasadh, and Samhain. Originally a pagan festival honoring the goddess Brigid, it was later Christianized as Saint Brigid’s Day. Some scholars link the name to the Old Irish folcaim - “to wash, to cleanse” - connecting it to ritual purification, similar to the ancient Roman festival Februa.
February = the month of purification.
Brigid is the White Goddess. Purity, Purification, Renewal. All things Light. She is poet, healer, and smith - keeper of the sacred flame, the holy well, the forge’s fire.
The light in February changes - whether you are in the Northern or Southern Hemisphere. It is noticeable. In the north, it is a distinct lengthening. In the south, a shift in how the glow echoes differently, signaling the turning of the wheel. I urge you to take notice at the threshold times -sunrise/sunset. How does the light stir you? Or if you are in the southern hemisphere. How does the waning sun stir the shadows?
What was still and silent, gestating too deeply below the below for visibility, is now stirring. A word. A gesture. A symbol. A calling. A flame. Seeds. quickening. Quaking.
I think of this time as a special gateway of beginnings in the cycle of life and death and life and nature. The snowdrops begin to rise. In some places. And the lambs begin to prepare for birth. The belly of the mother is stirring. Earth mother, lamb mother, and soul mother, gestating a new possibility.
Listen, listen and listen some more.
Where are the snowdrops beginning to rise? What seeds are you gestating?
The spiritual baby is wanting to come through. You know the calling. You know you are birthing something new. Even in birth, you may or may not know the sex, you may know that a new baby is on the way, but you may not know exactly what its destiny is either. But you tend it. Good thoughts, good diet, good habits, good rhythms.
Welcome the light of the unknown mystery. She calls to you for a reason. Her gift is as sacred as the portal through which she emerges.
Artist: unknown
The Modern Rush
In winter we may unconsciously try to rush the harvest. Or avoid the culling. The stillness and the fallow season are not the social norm. In modern times we actually CAN plant seeds anytime. We have indoor grow lights and new projects and new projects and new projects. We like to generate and generate. We don’t want to be bored. And we want to feel useful and purposeful. And, there is much to do!
Today we have access instantly to what appears like an akashic computer in the sky filled with information for everything every book every quote every workshop every possibility every scandal every every everything imaginable and then some.
We want answers now. We want change now. We want to transform now. We want to buy the thing now. We want to know now. We want to be enlightened now. We want to tune in or tune out now.
Sometimes a reminder is helpful to just stop doing doing doing and striving striving striving or buying buying buying or reaching reaching reaching to just trust. The Higher Self. The Spirit. The Breath. The Wings.
Seeds gestate in their own time.
Artist: unknown
The Cauldron’s Teaching: Shape-Shifting Change
“The times, they are a-changin’” - sang Bob Dylan. Aptly so.
How do we change with the times?
This question brings me to the story of Ceridwen’s cauldron - a tale of transformation, shape-shifting, and the birth of the poet.
