Prelude – Eclipse

Coming to Imbolc this year is a little like waking from a dream that began at Solstice. It has been a year for inner work, but then, winter has always held some of that for me. It is in the places of ebb, of darkness and softness, of sitting wrapped in a cushy blanket by the fire with a cup of tea in the dim light of the cold days, that I prepare for the busy activity of the year to come.

But this year was a little different. Interleaved with moments of quiet, there was an acceleration of sorts. It began as a building sense of pressure in the weeks before the recent lunar eclipse, when the energies of the alignment called many of us forward, to expansion. For weeks I noticed thoughts and attitudes that no longer serve bubbling up to be released, even as I gathered into my heart the threads of new magic that are sparkling their way into my life.

Now there is a pause after this recent snap of bitter coldest winter, when seeds think of waking, and some trees are already in smallest bud. The work of the Eclipse is done, and the magic begun then will unfold amid sun, rain, and new weavings of light, as the gardens of spirit and earth grow in tandem.

Herbalism is never separate from the cycles of seasons. The more we are connected to the plants, the more we are connected to what sustains them when they grow, or sleep or die. The cycles of sun, moon, day and night are the rhythms of life that our cells are attuned to, and our cultural disconnect from that world has left us longing for what it gives us when we align with it.   Working with plants or animals makes those rhythms real to us, and we know again that our own ecologies are part of larger ones. No matter what our cultural lens, the sacred points on the Wheel of the Year are, for many herbalists, their way of keeping pace with the earth.  There is meaning at each point in the journey.

Three Fires

In the ways that I know through my ancestry, Imbolc is the feast of Brighid, Keeper of the Sacred Fires, and of the healing waters. Today I will light three candles to celebrate this time of winter’s end: One for the fire of the hearth, the place of food and community. One for the fire of the forge: this year that was the Eclipse, a not-gentle fire of transformation where so much promise was seeded. And one for the fire of inspiration, the poet’s song that calls to our creative hearts to abandon the theater of “power-over”, and manifest the new in life affirming, collaborative ways.

As our world changes and we navigate terrain that is laden with the emotional and cultural debris of the failing paradigm, we are immersed in transformation whether we will or no, and it is time. But Brighid’s other gifts are those of the hearth, of food shared, and there is compassion there for all those on the journey with us. And of inspiration — our ability to breathe life into something greater than we have today, and to create from our deepest selves something far more wholesome than what is dis-integrating around us.

I am thinking of you, my companions on this journey, as I sit by my fire, drinking a tea to nourish spirit and nervous system after the unusual intensity of this deep winter. I’ll share my tea with you. It is relaxing and rejuvenating, and holds the promise of intentional dreaming.

A Winter Tea

Hawthorn – 3 parts leaf and flower or rough equivalent of berry elixir
Scullcap – 2 parts,
Lemon Balm – 1 part
Mugwort – 1p
cinnamon – just enough to warm and gently spice

Use 1-2 tbs per cup of tea in a glass jar or teapot.
Boil water, but let it sit for a minute once it has boiled. (Scullcap’s virtue is destroyed by boiling water.)  Pour over your herbs; cover and steep for at least an hour. Rewarm if desired, and add a little honey – this one is a little bitter, but oh, so nourishing.

Hawthorn heals the heart on all levels, physical, emotional and spiritual. Scullcap is healing to nerve tissue and promotes relaxation. Lemon Balm is relaxing too, and eases sadness if we are in a struggle about letting go of old patterns. And Mugwort, ahhh. It is a tonic nervine with a bitterness that both grounds us and moves energy, making room for what we want to embrace in our lives. Cinnamon brings the formula together, and adds flow, while warming the mixture.  I hope you will enjoy it, as we enter the dance of freeze and thaw that is part of February’s pattern, and emerge from winter’s darkness into the promise of the year.