Cross Posting: I Keep Vigil to the Fire

Teo Bishop posted an invite over at Bishop in the Grove for readers to contribute to I Keep Vigil to the Fire, offering a suggested format to write poetry in honor of Brighid.

I am an eleventh hour contributer, but I was inspired, so offered my own writings, copied below.  But you should check out all the other entries, they are wonderful.

Imbolc Poetry for a Goddess:

I keep vigil

To the fire

In my heart.

I keep vigil

Tho all seems lost

Forever dark.

I look into the deep night

For Brighid

The Shining One

She comes in silence,

And kindles the Flame

Once quenched by despair.

I keep vigil

To the fire

In my heart

I feed the flame

As a mother nurses a child

With the milk of hope.

I feed the flame

Tho storms rage outside

And the candles flicker with uncertainty.

I feed the flame

And see the strength of her forge

With the creation of new found faith.

I keep vigil

To the fire

In my heart.

I keep vigil

May Brighid bless

My home, my hearth, my heart.

Crossposting: Happy Imbolc

Fellow blogger Aine posted this at The Deepest Well; it's not to be missed.  A moving, inspirational post, that perfectly captures the spirit and intent of this sabbat.  Please see Happy Imbolc
May all your candles burn brightly tonight!

Garden of Intention

Last night I cooked with what I call the “Holy Trinity” of seasonings:  that perfect combination that can apply in many situations; but always ends up smelling and tasting great, whenever you use it.

Sage, and Thyme, mixed with a bit of the EVO.  (Extra Virgin Olive Oil).

Last night’s application was a pork tenderloin.  The herbs were mixed into the olive oil to make a fluid paste that could easily be brushed onto the piece of meat, coating the meat with the herbs well, without excess oil.  The pork tenderloin came out great; this combo of  seasonings is fail safe for a good meal, and the best thing is, when you come downstairs the next day, your kitchen smells absolutely wonderful!  (Unlike some other “after odors”)

The cool thing was, this time, the sage was not bought from the grocery store, it was from my own garden. 

I have grown flowers for many years, and intermittently, vegetables.  I try, and then give up, because of all the “help” I get from the local groundhog, deer, raccoons, skunks, and even moles (who tunneled thru a perfectly lovely row of carrots one year).  But a year and a half ago my husband got into the act with me.  He wanted to try a new spot on the side of the house which gets a lot of sun, and helped me construct a nice raised bed, complete with a fence.  That first year was moderately successful – and it did prove to be critter proof!  Last year, we tweaked the layout and variety of what we planted, and I relegated space to a few herbs, which I sowed directly into the bed late May.

Although I always sow a pot of basil seeds inside the house to keep in the kitchen, I wanted to plant some outside, as my kitchen planting stays rather small.  I wanted those big, healthy, aromatic leaves.  For whatever reason, the outside germination rate was fairly low, but I did get several nice healthy plants growing.

Rosemary was my next choice.  Very poor germination, I ended up with two plants.  Plus I failed to read the packet – it requires a loooong time for germination, and they recommended starting them indoors.  Oops.  At the end of the summer I had two sprigs about three inches high… that was it.

Sage:  this was my bumper crop.  Very high germination rate, I ended up with 20 plants in two small rows, that grew very thriftily over the summer.

I let the herbs stay in the garden long past when the other vegetables were harvested, but eventually a hard frost loomed.  It was the baby rosemary plants that inspired me to pot my herbs, to keep in the house through the winter.  I didn’t pot all the basil and sage, some I cut to dry.  I made one pot of basil plants and five pots of sage (and I still had plenty of sage left over to dry!)  Plus the rosemary plants went into one pot.

It’s been really nice to have the fresh herbs in the house.  When we cook a turkey or chicken, I have plenty of sage leaves to put under the skin and inside the cavity.  Love doing that.   But with five pots, periodically I have to prune them back a bit, so I’m always drying leaves.  The basil is used frequently too; I don’t just pull leaves, I clip the stem down a bit, which actually stimulates new growth.  The rosemary I have not touched yet, but I will be doing so soon, so that it will branch and not get too spindly.

The plants have done amazingly well.  It was this last new moon cycle that saw me using them for other than culinary purposes, and that got me thinking.  Planning my garden for the spring.

Over time I have developed a personal dictionary of herbs, wildflowers, roots, trees… even foods… that lists their magical or ritual uses.   Some entries are more complete than others, but I do try to tuck away nuggets of information when I encounter them.  I think maybe its time to go back and review that dictionary, maybe add to it.

My goal is this:  a well balanced garden.  Both in terms of nutritional benefits for my family – you can’t eat too many vegetables.  But beyond just eating:  balancing and supporting our goals, our wishes and desires.

What vegetables, herbs, and flowers have associations that represent what we need in our lives, and what we aspire too?  What are the plants that have different elemental associations?  Can I come up with a garden plan that will include plants that will draw upon all the elements? Hmm.  I’m not going to limit myself to just the vegetable plot… some of my flower beds might profit from a “redo” as well.  Maybe some of the kitchen witches out there could give me some pointers…..

So, that’s my homework, my preparation for Imbolc.  What do I wish to see realized for my family over the months to come?  What plantings do I want to include for their positive associations?  What plantings will represent all the different elements?  That will keep me busy for a bit.  I’ll be drawing up my garden plan, and will lay it out on one of my altars the eve of Imbolc.  As I light my candles, I will ask for a blessing, that those plans will see fruition.

May the seeds you sow in darkness bring new life in the coming light.

Imbolc - the Quickening

Well, we are nearing the end of January… today I am thinking about Imbolc.

As I shifted my viewpoint from monotheism to a polytheistic perspective of deity,  I began reading about, and eventually observing, the sabbats.  Some of the holidays were easy to identify with; others were not.  Initially, I was following observances from books or online sources.  While I always found it worthwhile to take the time to do this, some things did not resonate very strongly, or tie directly into my life.

Imbolc was one I found difficult to connect with personally for quite some time, largely because the original contructs of the observance seem to tie in with a particular location, or specific occurrence of particular events.  Imbolc, celebrated on February 2, is originally a Celtic holiday; the word “Imbolc” literally translates to lamb’s milk.  In the British Isles, at this time of year, this is when ewes begin to bear their young, and so, new life returns to the land.  I don’t know about you, but where I live, there aren’t many lambs being born around this time.  (That may be, because there aren’t many sheep raised in this area!)  Snowdrops and crocuses won’t be seen for a good two months, if not more.  Some of our worst snow storms are yet to come, and temperatures are at their bitterest. (Even my rambunctious pups aren’t so eager to go out, and lift and shake their paws pitifully from the iced over snow.)  So, the organic connection, the tie that comes from a local characteristic of the land or its pastoral traditions, is missing.

What about the tradition’s Deity?  Would there be a connection there?

That would be Brighid,

That first year, Brighid was mostly a name.  I did not know her.  Relationships don’t just happen because your mind says one needs to be in place.  I strongly felt the presence of the Goddess at that time, but She did not have a face, I could not call Her by name.  I remember reading and researching various pantheons, and feeling a bit like that lost baby bird in the Dr. Seuss book:  “Are you my mother?  Are you my mother?”  Eventually I would find Her, both because I was looking, but also because She came to me.  But it wasn’t Brighid, and although I have gained experience with working with aspects of Deity I do not know well, it’s not the same as having a more direct connection.

Something that I really like to spend time reading and writing about, is the inter-relatedness of different holidays that are celebrated at the same time of the year.  My perspective is not colored by the “who came first” issue, I just like knowing the history and origin of the different traditions.  I had originally intended to go into bits about Ground Hog’s Day and Candlemas, but this info has been described in many places on the ‘net, and this post is getting long enough.  Perhaps another day.

But I love the corny tradition of Punxsutawney Phil and Ground Hog’s Day.  Which, by the way, is one of my favorite movies:  Bill Murray waking up over and over to that nauseating Sonny and Cher song, to be faced with the same day, again and again, no matter what he does to change his fate.  It’s a perfect metaphor for how I feel this time of year:  I’m stuck in perpetual winter, whether that means suffering from chronic snow shoveling and car scraping, or slogging through that wonderful combination of slush, salt, and sand.  It’s never gonna end…..

Until you find something.  Bill Murray found love.  (Hmm, isn’t Valentine’s Day just around the corner?)  What can I do to break the spell of Old Man Winter?

A few years ago a younger colleague became pregnant after Christmas.  Poor thing, she was surrounded by all these older moms who regaled her with all their pregnancy and childbirth stories.  (Those memories run deep, no matter how long the years.)  Those memories helped me find my personal metaphor for Imbolc.

My first pregnancy was not unplanned, but even so, when the test came back positive, I was a little unnerved.  Was I really ready to be a mother, to be so responsible for another being’s life and happiness?  And as I went through the very early stages of pregnancy, the idea of a real, live baby remained oddly abstract.  Then around the sixteenth week, not quite halfway through, I felt something.  A flutter in my abdomen, so slight I wasn’t even sure it had really happened.  And then it happened again.  This was the first tangible evidence there really was a new life within me.  Although my due date was still a few months away I knew now that a baby – my baby – was really coming, and my heart smiled.

Likewise, Imbolc is a cross quarter day:  halfway between Yule – the return of the sun – and Ostara, the vernal equinox, the true arrival of spring in my part of the world.  At Yule, we were given the promise of the return of light.  And although the sun has turned back toward us, the cold and the dark still seem to rule.  But at Imbolc, if I pay attention, I can see and feel those first stirrings of life.  A subtle difference in the way the sun shines.  An extra ounce of warmth felt at noon time.  A difference in the way the birds sing…and if I take the time to check my calendar, since the Solstice, we will have gained 58 minutes of daylight!

And so, to me, Imbolc is the quickening, the first faint stirrings of life in the belly of the earth.  It will be some time before that new life is realized, but the stirrings are enough to help me keep faith.  I still carry with me the tenet of faith from my former path, because I feel it is a true concept for all paths: simply a belief in things that are not yet realized.  It is still deep dark winter, but I have been given a sign that new life will come.

I haven’t yet figured out how I’m going to celebrate Imbolc 2012, aside from lighting lots of candles, and checking CNN to see if Phil saw his shadow or not.  But I am going to honor Brighid this year, and I have a few other ideas.  I’ve got some time, no worries.  Now that I know what it really means to me, how to give it form will come to me in due time. 

In the Darkness of Winter, may you find the Blessing of Light.