Imbolc by Mountain Laurel Artwork
Imbolc is almost upon us. Imbolc (pronounced ‘imulk’) falls on 1-2 February and is one of the four Celtic ‘cross-quarter days’ that mark out the seasonal year: very, very ancient but also very useful to us even now. They are called ‘cross-quarter days’ because they fall between the big astronomical markers of the year, the summer and winter solstices, and the spring and autumn equinoxes. They are useful because they are signposts. They say: the season is moving on, look where we are, let’s mark this moment.
Imbolc is traditionally the beginning of the wrestle between winter and spring. It very much appears this way in the old stories, with the Calleach, the old crone goddess of winter, and Brigid, the maiden goddess of spring and summer in a tug of war with the seasons. It is a time for the first stirrings, and the word Imbolc may have descended from the word for ewe’s milk, or the words ‘in the belly’ - it is a moment pregnant with hope for the year ahead, but with very little happening yet.
How to mark such a moment? We can make a moment that recognises that pull between cosiness and the lightening year, between our own winterish states and our spring-like ones. We can also take hints from the other celebrations that fall on these days, St Brigid’s Day and Candlemas, which may or may not be descendants of the much older festival, but certainly have some things in common. So:
Light candles, white ideally
Light a fire
Eat foods including dairy, seeds and early greens
Bring a bunch of snowdrops indoors
Order seeds
But most importantly just take a moment to think about the turning of the earth from winter solstice towards the spring equinox, about how different the world felt back then, and how it has already begun to change, and how bright and hopeful everything will feel at the equinox.
If you are a paid subscriber you might also enjoy listening to my Imbolc/St Brigid’s Day playlist*, which I have curated to capture that feeling of delicate, tentative hope we feel at this time of the year, the stretching days at the end of winter, the lightening and the gloom. It is just over an hour long, so perfect for a meditative spell with a candle, a drink of something special and a bit of a think. It leans heavily Irish, as you might expect, and contains a lot more harp than one might generally hear on the average day, but tis the season.
Wishing you a beautiful Imbolc, however you spend it.
*You will need to download Spotify (it’s free) in order to access the playlist fully
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