It would be difficult, living where I do, not to be aware of Imbolc.
I’m neither Wiccan nor Pagan. I’m not anything that has a code of beliefs, special days, rituals or particular observances; I’m simply a soul, part of which is being human for the time being. That, though, doesn’t stop me from enjoying aspects of the beliefs others hold and Imbolc is one of my favourites, because it resonates deeply with my own feelings at this time of year.
It lies midway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox and marks the first stirrings of the year, as the Earth wakes from its winter sleep (at least, here in the Northern Hemisphere it does).
That stirring is evident all around Glastonbury. Catkins, snowdrops and new lambs – even a few early daffodils can be seen, despite the biting winds and frozen ground. All of them signals that winter is passing, days are lengthening and spring is not too far away.
Surely I’m not alone, though, in feeling that same stirring within myself. A month ago, when everyone was heralding the New Year, new beginnings, resolutions and the like, I’d cheerfully have snuggled up in bed, content to dream the days away – happy to hibernate and mirroring the Earth in its need for a deep slumber to recover from a frenetic year of growth and build strength for the times to come.
Now, though, I’m restless. I want to read – make new discoveries and connections. I want to travel, internally and externally – visit unfamiliar places or find new routes to the old ones. I want to study, learn and share new ideas, visions and insights.
The cottage is a chaotic mass of new projects – everything from knitting a fantasy rainforest (to decorate an empty hallway 🙂 ) to scribbled notes on Atlantis; from exploring crystal technology to fine-tuning my ideas for educating Version 2.0 children. Nothing has blossomed yet or come to fruition. It’s far too early for that, but beneath the surface, all is seething movement and activity.
In my heart, body, mind and soul I’m marking this magical time of the year and celebrating these stirrings that welcome the new, as the seasons turn again.