February

Imbolc, 2.2.26

(Thank you Prerna for the message and St Brigid)

A couple of nights ago I dreamed of Hecate. She moved from the page, to sculpture, to the wild woman standing at a crossroads. “You are descended from me,” she said, “and now you have a choice. You are at a crossroads, so choose wisely.” And she showed me the pathways ahead.

This dream arrives as we stand at our own threshold. Snowdrops pierce cold earth. Small birds emerge from their winter nests. Days extend their light. This is the cycle of life, of winter to spring.

In Celtic tradition, this moment— February 1st/2nd— is known as Imbolc, the festival between winter solstice and spring equinox. The Cailleach, winter’s fierce crone, makes way for Brigid, bringer of fire and renewal. It is a liminal time, a crack between what was, is and what will be. Fire marks this passage. Candles are lit, bonfires kindled in communal spaces to acknowledge the turning. It is the slow return of warmth, the stirring of life beneath still-frozen ground. A purification. A kindling.

At this hesitant transition, I’m curious:
How do you approach thresholds?
What crossroads are you standing at?
What needs to be released so something new can emerge?