IMBOLC
This is the Feast of Imbolc. The Light of the Sun in the Wheel of the Year stands in the North East, within the Cone of Darkness. This is a time of hope and preparation. This is the time of the growing of the Light
This Feast is known by many names to many people, for the Truth is reflected from many mirrors. It has been celebrated as Februa and Candlemas. Our ancestors called it by names long forgotten, and our children will call it by names as yet unconceived.
At this time, our ancestors saw the Sun, the weak and helpless Child of Light, grow stronger day by day. The land still lies in darkness, but the rule of the darkness is challenged by the infant Lord of Light. Little by little, the skies grow light and the blessed Earth gives forth her first flowers, snowdrop and crocus, as promise of the Summer that is to be when all creation will rejoice in the One Universal Light.
This Feast of Imbolc is sacred to the Lady, the child-woman, the virgin who is known as Brighid and Athena and Britomartis and names without number. She it was who brought forth the Child of Light out of the Darkness in the darkest of the Dark Days. She it is who has nurtured the Child and now brings him forth as the new hope. She it is who has prepared the sleeping Earth to bring forth her bounty in the Summer which even here has its first beginnings.
As we see the Child of Light grow stronger day by day in the arms of the Mother, so do we understand that we ourselves will grow under the protection of the Mantle of the Lady, and the Light that shines within us will bring forth a great harvest in the ground that She has prepared. This is our knowledge and our affirmation.
This is the Holy Word that is written in no less than the Earth and the Sky and in all things that are made. This is a wonder and a marvel.–Coifi
Many people ask who and what I am. The question makes me blink at them–more often on the inside than out, as I have found over time that while there is no consideration for me thinking that their question was lacking in every way, there is consideration that I was rude to blink. I learned to blink as a way to stop myself from telling others how ignorant or stupid or slow they were. I learned this partly as an appropriate social skill, and partly as a way beat into my by caregivers that I must hide myself and try to be like others. I’d like to put those words into direct quotes, but it has been many years, and I might be in slight error, so I will not.
I seem, in many ways, not to fit. As if I were a foot, not having the majesty of a God created bit of majesty, but only to be crammed into the one shoe that humans created for all. Somehow, a human’s creation MUST be so much better than God’s! (That was sarcasm and amusement, if you think about it you will probably be amused too!)
I would, in many ways fit as being a Christian. I respect many things about Christianity. Many of the things that I automatically do, in practice of my faith however, seem not to be. Many of my actions and faith practice that I simply label prayer, are recognized or brought to light to me by others, to be Native American in origin. Upon reading, provided information to assuage my disbelief, I must agree, though I can and do still feel very uncomfortable. I was raised that I was too white to fit into my heritage. The discomfort comes from looks of disdain and being treated like a wannabe. Another bit of the discomfort comes from being respected and honored and asked to join in with certain tradition and activities, from which most others, Native American or not, are excluded. I cannot imagine why me, so on a daily basis, I just try to talk and think and then do the next right thing. Sometimes a laughing response to my behavior is an eye-roll or a hard stare and heyoka is mentioned and I’m asked if I need a little private time, so that I can do things the backward way and tell everyone the beginning again. I frown, which gets me a pat on my shoulder and a grin.
I read, a lot! Just ask anyone, it’s a wonder my nose doesn’t have words on it! During the beginning times, when I noticed others reactions to me, when I didn’t think to hide, I would hear their words. I have been called witch and other such names as identifiers, to which I promptly reply…I AM NOT! Because I am not. In fact, to me some of the practices there, are entirely false, and an excuse for things, but that is another discussion entirely.
I did wonder as to what they meant in my head and was led to pick up this book or that one, or they were handed to me. Other things that I do, that do not seem to come from Native American tradition, from this reading material seem to match entirely closely with Druid tradition. It is very interesting to read about Druids, as their history was actually said to have been lost. Much of what is sent forward now being a mush of guessing and remembrances, often mixed in with current new age faddism–yes I created a word.
When reading the material, the ‘good’ material, it was amazing to see and I wondered how I came to know inside what to do and when. I like viewing accurate writings and it is very interesting to find some bits that are missing other, also true bits. I share these sort of updates or thoughts with others that I find to be more than dabblers and we can have long discussions that please me greatly!
The most excellent season of Imbolc is here!!! I must laugh, I have rather been hoping after it since Winter Solstice, to prevent me from mourning and wallowing in the dark this year, I’ve been following Samhain AND secretly loving Imbolc!
Now, I am looking outside at the freezing rain that has turned into fluffy white flakes and I am repeating Noticing Nature in my head. Some in there are doing the but but butter game that says but where is the noticing of nature and then pointing at the blog title. I say to them, it is your decision to interpret nature as things which are out of doors. Nature to me, in this moment, is expression of the spirit of self, one’s nature. They just say OH! And one small child-like voiced person seems a bit sad, wanting pictures of snow at least and a barefoot trompt outside in it just to see if the toes come out in the prints as separated. That voice got a blink too and a chuckle, and a definate veto! In the spirit of compromise….
The Desired Snow--by elisabeth connelley
Noticing Nature 