The Quickening
We have been still in the winter at this moment in time.
Even with the busyness the outside world has asked of us, or we have put upon ourselves, winter has still been here~ the Gregorian calendar tells us so, but so do the trees: the long twisted naked limbs, the far off cry of the red-tailed hawks, the bright red of the Cardinal alighting on a branch, the ancient tendrils of ground cedar dotting the woods with bright green, the boisterous cries of the crows waddling on the grass, the deep black eyes of the deer, her fur coat camouflaged perfectly against the grays, browns, whites and evergreen’s of the natural world. Our inner rhythms know this, reflect this, and feel the humming quiet of the winter.
If we are blessed with snow, the still, impenetrable quiet of the blanket it provides gives us reason to heave a great sigh of relief- now all we can do is align quite perfectly with winter’s embrace, tucking ourselves indoors to the warmth of the mug in our hands, the smiles on the faces of our friends and family, and the nourishing food in our bowls.
Meanwhile, February comes to offer us what we so deeply need before spring’s return~ the transition time. The earth will now quicken: the slow and steady rhythm of her sleeping heartbeat will gently begin to pulsate more rapidly, to awaken from the dream, to open her eyes, to look upon the new year from her supine position still resting in bed.
Celtic tradition knows of this time of year as the holyday of Imbolc, on February 2nd. It honors Brigid, Goddess of the generative nature of feast, harvest and hearth. In Kildare, Ireland there was a shrine to Brigid, before Christianity overtook her rituals by replacing her with St. Brigit, a mortal holy woman of the 5th century, who wanting to devote herself to religion, but finding no religious quarters for women available, made her home in the hollowed out trunk of a giant Oak tree, perhaps intuiting the sanctity of the space. The vastly significant part of the rituals to Goddess Brigid were to keep the hearth fires burning, especially and most urgently at this threshold of winter. Brigid’s fire keepers remind us to keep stoking the fires of our own creative lives, keeping our vitality and strength alive and joyful so though we have been in deep winter’s rest, the electricity of our heart, both literal and metaphorical, has still been pulsating with life, and so too have our passions.
At this time of year we honor the transition from end of winter into spring’s impending emergence. I always mark Imbolc by writing vows to myself for the year ahead. This ritual is planting seeds of my own evolution while still here in the dark of February. The wheel of the year across cultures and traditions around the globe instruct us with many moments in which to celebrate the new year, many of which fall between this time of January-March~ (Nowruz, the Lunar New Year, Rosh Hashanah and so many more) but the vows made to myself at Imbolc hold special meaning. I connect deeply with the ancestral memory of what this time of year has meant to peoples of the Northern Hemisphere: the resources of the previous years harvest have been running thin~ the days have been dark for quite a while now (how long ago was November?? Years it seems…) and we are running out of patience with those we share our home with (it’s awfully crowded in here, can’t somebody MOVE over?!) not to mention the doubt that creeps in: Will spring actually come? What if this time, it doesn’t?
Here in North Carolina, February brings the jubilant and incessant cries from our closest waterways which have been sitting silent all winter: Nature’s inordinately cute alarm clock, the spring peeper chirps its cries: “Spring is on the way! It’s time to wake up!”
This is one alarm clock that I always welcome!
Vows made at Imbolc give us the sacred moment to pause and recognize where we have been, and how we want to move into the longer, sun-filled days of the year that is coming. If I were to sit and wait for winter to pass (think watching a kettle boil)- I will lose my patience, and quickly. Instead I bring intention to this moment by promising myself that I will bring myself into Spring consciously and with mindfulness~ so to be present with the gifts waiting for me in her abundance.
Some examples of vows I have written:
“I will focus on the health of my body this year through meditation, yoga and dance.”
“I promise not to abandon myself this year, for anyone, or anything.”
“I will stay close to my own heart this year, even while there are so many distractions.”
“I will try again this year.”
As always, the wise Judith Berger speaks eloquently on the elements at play in February:
“And what is the name of this force that makes its way into the body rhythm of the animals and wakens them from months of dreaming, that pierces the ruminating dark with the light touch of the sensuous dawn, that makes us toss restless, when we had been so cozy in our warm beds, for winters end? The name of this power is desire. The desire of life itself for new life, the unavoidable yearning of the dark for its bride of light. And this desire has a heat, and this heat causes a stirring, and the stirring causes a quickening, which causes a flickering flame to wake the bodies of all creatures with a tongue that speaks wordlessly of mating.” (https://www.blurb.com/b/9715213-herbal-rituals)
What will your desire bring about for you this year? It is yet to be seen. Here in the dark, I invite you to join me in consecrating ourselves to the year ahead. Blessings on your February!
