Tomorrow is Imbolc. The wheel of the year seems to be turning faster and faster. It seems that just yesterday we were celebrating the Solstice. Here in Georgia, as I sat in preparation for Imbolc, we were hit by a snow and ice storm.
Most of Atlanta sat in gridlock because of lack of preparation….no blame to throw here…just lack of preparation. I had friends who had to abandon their cars and walk five miles and more to get to shelter. One friend walked eight miles, stopping for coffee at any open convenience store or grocer. His husband tracked him on his IPhone as he walked.
Through this ordeal, the world either laughed at us here in the south…or they empathized and prayed. To those who laughed, I have one thing to say. Just remember, “What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.” The one thing that constantly rang through the minds of many southerners was the hope of just getting home. The time we were in our cars, walking, fighting the bitter cold….one thing danced in front of us, guided us through the fear…..the hope of the home-fire.
I got home before my partner did that day. I called him to see when he was leaving work. He told me each time that it would be soon. The last time, I told him to leave then….don’t question me or argue. I sat on pins and needles knowing that some people had already been stalled on the side of the road. I walked out into the courtyard and looked up between what I call my ‘Cernunnos Tree.’ I breathed into the icy air. Please keep him safe….keep them all safe. I stood there listening to the silence that only a snowfall can bring. It is the only time that sound is absorbed into nature. Our complex, which is normally noisy and boisterous and never silent, suddenly stood stock still…each person, animal, and machine bowing to the power that Nature herself holds.
Wednesday and Thursday, everyone waited in hopes of winter being melted away. Schools were still closed….people still could not get back to their offices. The cars they had abandoned were still glued to the side of the road by ice. My own hips and knees were sore from navigating through the ice when the dogs had to pee. My little blue chihuahua loves his time outside, but resigned himself to the pee and run….if he stayed outside a little too long, he started to shake all over. The habit now was standing over the space heater holding him until he stopped shaking.
On Wednesday, I ventured out to see how the roads around the complex fared. On my walk, I encountered a little bird sitting up against the snow shivering. My first thought was that it was sick and would probably die, but I had to pick it up and try to help it. It hopped on my hand and I placed it inside my coat, next to my chest to warm it up. As it warmed up, it chirped. I took it out of my coat and watched as he flew up toward one of the taller trees. He just needed to be warmed up a bit.
Here in Atlanta, there were people walking the highways with hot chocolate, food and supplies for those who were stranded. Grocery stores were staying open all night long to give those walking refuge from the cold. Compassion ran rampant. Even if bodies were shaking from the low temperatures….the hearts were warmed beyond measure. Just one small offering is all it takes to start hope brewing.
This morning was the first day I have been able to get to the woods since the big ice-over. I walked out with a little blue chihuahua wrapped snugly in my cloak. Everything I needed was packed into my backpack. We got to our place in the woods and the first thing I did was build a small fire in my cauldron. I have a little pyre of rocks that I used to set in on. The candles were placed to each side…the wolf and crow skulls given their normal places. We sat directly in front of the burning cauldron. As I closed my eyes, I could feel the heartbeat of the Earth Mother. I could feel her belly brimming with newness….ready to be birthed. I whispered to her that not once have I hated the winter or wished it away….it is necessary for the beginnings anticipated…but I thanked for what is to come.
As I sat there, I placed my hands on the ground. I could feel the seeds, grasses and flowers yawning and stretching as they prepare for the coming spring. The Earth Mother made them a promise…and she intended to fulfill it completely.
She made us that same promise. I know you feel it. There is something welling up inside of you….I know I feel it. There is something new and wonderful and joyful ready to burst forth. For some, this winter has been a season of sorrow….for some, a season of rest and regrouping.
For those moving through sadness….the universe has been working together with the spirits around you to help you walk out of the pain and crying. You have to be willing to move past the winter. I know from losing my own partner many years ago, that sometimes we become too comfortable in our mourning clothes. There is joy around us, but we have to be willing to open ourselves to it.
For those resting….it is time to rise up and get moving. There is magick out there ready for you to create it. Put your hand against the trunk of the tree….that isn’t just the heartbeat of the tree you feel. It is matching your heartbeat…it is joining in your magick to make powerful things happen.
I reworked my home altar today. There were new things to be added…gifts from those who have added magick to my own life this year. There were things that had to be removed….gifts from those who have chosen to throw their magick to the side of the road. It is a time for new beginnings.
This Imbolc has given me something that I hadn’t counted on. I have received a new hope for who I am. It has purposed in me a reason for holding my partner just a little bit tighter…the gift of laughter and love and compassion. It has shown me that things around me are always going to be temporal…I should cherish every moment, every person, every animal that comes into my life. As I sit here typing with a little blue chihuahua on my lap licking at the side of my face, I lean into the warmth of the hearth fire. I don’t look back in disappointment at the things that have happened, but I look forward in hope of the magick of things yet to come.