Vernal Equinox-Winds of Change

Even as we begin to gather and to hug

there is much imbalance still

and perhaps forever.
Whatever forever means.

Equinox reminds us of the moment, of now, of being.
Balance is movement and stillness at once.

These cycles of seasons

almost familiar after decades of witness
with snow surprises
among the joys of renewal.

The stream rages at times as do I.

Spring Up!

Beltaine almost upon us,

trees in the most beautiful bloom,
house surrounded by flowering bulbs and early perennials.
Violets instantly appear everywhere
as always on time.

    

Staying in the present is a changing practice.

At the Equinox
always an anticipatory time
made more so in comparison
to what was last year
and was was in the times before.

                                             

Same and different

as usual

even with the unusual

like late-Spring snows and winds 
or a pandemic

or possible reckoning and revision and righting of wrongs

personal, cultural, environmental.

Maybe breaking open is the only way.

Spring Up! 

        

What follows are some images from our Vernal Equinox Ritual
and Notes from the Day-after

not in order of actual events but of actual recollection.

that liminal space between dew and frost.

Which came first - the chicken or the egg?

Blue birds overhead,
ritual starting with mourning doves and ending as the sun left our horizon

 

always make sure there is enough 

sacrifice

a smooth quarter

from the Earth for the Well

Sudden

Springtime

Abundance

stress & release

POP!

talking about comfort and acceptance

walking with difficulty

also
dancing a jig on the Equinox!

singing of the birds
warmth of the sun

greening of the land

and also

despair and depression and cold winds
crippling fear and excess
unspoken challenge

all this in the bubbling up of Spring

-seeds-

She said she planted too many seeds.
We sacrificed old seed.

Seed in my pocket for witness.

What is your comfort zone?
What is your fear?
What do we hold on to and what do we toss out?

Cleaned and vacuumed like old times.

Made food to share like old times.

Newness and oldness hand in hand.

It can be difficult to facilitate group worship

without catering to or focusing on the needs
of the human group.

melting ice sheets

go BANG on metal

not documented
looking for safe steps
missing the recorded moment

being in the present

He was all day barefoot on the Earth

and it was my first day in many weeks walking on the Earth.

the hammock over the stream
the stream flowing loud
the snow remaining only in the shadows of the garden

fires made from sticks recently blown onto the land
by the changing winds
and lit by her golden wrapping paper

 

spending the day in ritual contemplation

or reverence
noting
how different expressions
of springtime energy

rising up
can feel sometimes
like clashing of tectonic plates
or the ice floes breaking up in the river

swelling of old seed packs

before being consumed by the fire

flash of protein powder

drip drip drip of grease

spilled first on the deck
then as sacrifice into the fire

good to the last drop

grounding

with the Earth

away from others

in silence

words drowned out
by Nature

how to keep moving forward 

when lost

one foot in front of the other

one day at a time

gets thru the calendar

but the longing

for purpose

remains

Maybe we are meant to just witness

and give thanks

the lessons of Spring springing

the lessons of going slow

the lessons of care and compassion

honesty is the best sacrifice

compassion is essential

self & others

space & interconnecting

"it is so wonderful, we don't know what is waiting for us outdoors"

Our Omens

the seed- the action of potential & being

the vehicle- the relationship of horse & rider

the annual harvest- yearly completion of cycles

the day- vantage of high noon

bunnies and bulbs and birds

last year the pandemic fearful halting retreat at Spring
and now
the expansive rapid bursting forth of real Spring

life goes on

new life begins
transformation happens whether we notice it or not

Imbolc Blessings- Gently Gently, We Roll Along

Snow pours down hard and we are most fortunate to be inside with hot tea.
Many little birds dance in and out of the feeder
now that the squirrels left and the wind whips circular white outs.

It remains difficult to do anything other than be.
Managing transition.
Now the wind has shifted again,
snow blowing first horizontally East/West
then horizontally West/North
then tornado-like.
Giving thanks for shelter and warmth.

Thanks Dear Bridget for your healing, for your inspiration, for your clarity.
Thanks Dear Bridget for your fire and our inner fire.
Thanks Dear Bridget for fierceness and song.

Frozen stream flowing below.
Candle at the Bridget Shrine.
Candle in the Nemeton.
Candle on Bridget.
Solstice Candles on the Well.
Sunflower Candle on the Tree.
Ice Candles.

Fierce winds roar fine snow
accumulating drifts around things.
Seems like Accumulating Drift is the standard, these days.

It's now been a whole cycle of socially distanced ritual gatherings.
Some folks we have not seen since then.
Hard not to hug. Hard to be masked together
and unmasked with our Kindreds.

Though our kid, who celebrated his first Imbolc ritual in utero
with nursery songs offered as magicwork,
was supposed to be back at school,
he was here due to illness.
Not the current Plague, but you never know.
Participants were informed and precautions taken.
As best we can, as best we can.

Snow, cleansing snow.
What better way to begin the longest shortest month than with a blizzard.
Letting go of doing is still doing.

Winter is hard when we long for it to be summer.
Buds color the trees if you look close enough.
Each season a part of its opposite.

We had a ritual prep of healing from and staving off illness.
The non-cleaning and non-cooking of Covid-times ritual,
like all other Covid-times action/reaction,
is a disassociating and sometimes exhausting effort or possibly opportunity.
We get used to the challenges of hosting balanced by the joys of hosting.
Even without making and sharing food is it still somehow hosting.
Disinfecting the bathroom as reverent welcoming tasks.

Much energy these days is in keeping it together;
when the necessities of situation, snowstorm or otherwise,
take hold
needed letting go seems twice as hard.

Self-care is gentleness,
and the strength to care.

Snow-covered land and freezing temperatures,
no-longer single digits, but close.
Bryan brought up from the basement an old metal milk carton
(purchased long ago at Olive Day)
as the base for the cauldron which held our fire,
centered in the frozen fire pit,
next to the frozen well.
Filled with chips from his wood carving and sticks and leftover branches,
small but inspirational and transforming.

Many lessons in the preparations, in the fire, in the circumstance.
Bryan noted how often there is challenge in the fires for Bridget especially at Imbolc
(go back and read the Imbolc blog posts).
this year his trembling hand struggling to light candles
or Elizabeth struggling to light candles
or my sacrifice of Yule needles dampening the flame.
The fire or spirit remains whether we manage it or not,
like the candle on Our Bridget flipping over completely but staying lit.

Gently the light is lit, gently we are transformed,
like smiling with our eyes when our mouths are covered.

We knew there would be snow, but you can't anticipate this actual day of sideways-blowing snow
gathering in large drifts.
Darkness falls deeply though the wind and snow don't stop.

my notes from that night are simple:
gentle family grove gathering
candles glowing out there
braided ear hats
doggie snow face rubbing.

Bridget is our Grove Patroness or Matroness or simply Grove Goddess.
So nice for us to gather simply
in Her Honor.

Our Dear Elizabeth arrived beautiful as always wrapped in her cloak, masked and hatted.
The dance of social distanced space combined with reverent love
towards each other and Goddess Bridget.
Especially at this holiday, its hard not to hug.

Power went out as the storm intensified.
Grateful for all our blessings
especially the woodstove and generator.

The winds howling is unsettling,
even though it brings needed change.
The heavy layers of snow stunning in their beauty is a great challenge,
even though my spirit is grateful for the normal winter
and its feeding of the Earth.
Spring will come as always
and we keep moving forward as always.
Fear and worry notwithstanding. 

I love that Our Grove mates are comfortable with self and other.
I love that we allow each other to be.
I love that we are able to provide a space to gather and worship.
Do I repeat myself?

Ann & Lily & Wally arrive.
Again hard not to hug, not to scream with delight and roll in the snow together.
Gifting us fruit and the gentleness of their spirits.
So grateful.

We set up separate space for the kid to participate,
aside but present.
We wait for him to suit up and for Katrina arrive.
Finally we are ready.

We are here to honor the Gods and the Not-Gods,   
those who give meaning to this life.

Thank you all for being here with us.

Sipped upon ginger-ale welcoming the Earth Mother.
Bird-seed for the directions:
the East is where the Full Wolf Moon rises-welcome new day and magical light
the South is where the sun no longer rises and where my son sits-welcome heart and love
the West is the place of the Brown Bear, hibernating still-welcome deep introspection of silence
the North is where the winds blow from, place of healing and renewal-welcome
Up and Down and the Center too.
What goes up must come down but also what goes down must come up,
anti-gravity-like.

Always focused on offerings and sacrifice for the Kindred and the fire,
I sometimes forget the well and the tree.
But we have voice and praise and sound and ribbons.
We do our best as best we can
and hopefully our shortcomings are understood and filled in by others.

The well, that which goes down deep,
now frozen on the surface,
but like the stream,
liquid and flowing underneath.
Sacred Well, flow within us.

The tree, vertical like our spine,
connecting the below and above
and providing a pathway.
Sacred Tree, grow within us.

The fire, that which is not frozen or cold or deep,
but hot and bright and rising up,
let this fire be a good fire.
Sacred Fire, glow within us.

Flower petals floating up from the fire,
trying to stand up branches in the small fire,
adding circles of wood to the fire,
too many pine needles smoldering the fire.

Special offerings for Bridget,
cream on the snow,
iced cream!

It's good to be family.

we can never offer enough praise for Goddess Bridget,
so grateful for her spirit and care.

Each group drew out an omen
Hudson for the Ancestors- Wunjo- Joy
!
Elizabeth for the Spirits of Nature and Place- Elhaz-the Elk sedge
the terminal Z- defensive protective awareness- be on guard
Ann for the Gods & Goddesses-Eihwaz- the Yew Tree
strength, the death's crook, the spine, that upon which the world spins
Katrina for Bridget-Dagaz-Day
High Noon, the vantage point, Eagle Vision, the whole picture

WZED

Let's take in those blessings.
the Waters of Life!
Cold but not frozen waters refresh immensly.
Pause.

Give thanks.

Burning it all.
Grounding out.
Catching up.

Being home.
Being the light.