Imbolc: Awaken the Inner Flame

Deep inside the earth-womb, beneath the frozen ground in the mysterious, moist darkness, there are seeds that will soon germinate…awaken. Although nearly imperceptible perhaps we can feel something in the air, a hint of what is to come. This is a seasonal shift, it is a time of anticipation. Winter is slowly loosening its grip and if we listen, if we look closely we can get a faint glimpse now and then of the imminent arrival of spring.

The word Imbolc is of Celtic origins and thought to mean “within the belly”. Today we can take this to refer symbolically to Mother Earth being pregnant with the new life of impending springtime. Now is the phase of quickening when nature’s creative energy begins to stir. This seasonal change is inevitable -- change is inevitable. Nothing is fixed; all is in flux. There is an ebb and flow to everything. What is frozen will melt, what is dormant will awaken; what is dark will be illuminated. The certainty of this transition from winter’s cold to spring’s warmth is akin to a trusted promise. Imbolc is a celebration of that promise. We knew on the eve of Winter Solstice that from the next day onward the hours of light would slowly lengthen. But now little by little we’ve begun to actually see it – what joy, a reaffirmation that the warmth will indeed return! Winter Solstice, Yule, was hope symbolized by light in the depths of darkness. Imbolc is yearning for warmth and the promise it will come, it is tending the fragile embers and knowing the blaze will flare up…it is intention becoming manifest.

One of the alternative names for this day is of old Gaelic derivation from herding and farming origins, Oimelc, meaning ewe’s milk. This refers to the lambing time when mother sheep begin to lactate. Mother’s milk is perfect nourishment, pure and simple. The image of a gentle lamb nursing from her mother could offer broader meaning and be a metaphor to remind us that we are each deserving of nourishment on a different level, sacred sustenance if you will – it is a fundamental and basic necessity. Yet all too often we emotionally starve ourselves, putting other people and other things before our own vital needs. Suddenly we find ourselves thirsting and spiritually bereft. We are in dire need of the simple milk of human kindness. We need to tend and nurture our selves before we can care for anyone or anything else. So, let the iconic image of a mother nursing her young inspire you to make this vow: promise to feed your spirit, to love and take care of yourself with an adoring parent’s unconditional heart. Dedicate yourself to feeding your own internal need-fire with sufficient fuel ….for we each are miraculous creations and are worthy of nothing less.

Yet another name for this holiday is Candlemas, sometimes celebrated today as the Christian feast of St Brigit. The word “mas” in fact refers to feast, so this could be thought of as a feast of firelight. Even in the smallest flicker of a simple candle, fire is our little piece of the sun here on earth. During these seemingly endless cold days we crave warmth and radiance like the proverbial moth is drawn to a flame. Fire purifies, it cleanses, and can clear the way for new growth. Fire can warm our food, our toes and our spirits. Flames of passion can ignite and blaze like an inferno or smolder unrequited. A roaring blaze in the wood stove on a cold night is like a dear old friend. Fire is solemn, reminiscent of the torchlight processionals of ancient sacred rites. Fire is playful, like fireworks crackling and popping for Chinese New Year celebrations also occurring around this time of year. A colossal bonfire is impressive and fierce. And yes, fire can destroy. But this destruction in its purest form can be benevolent and a force of transformation. In turn, fire is a source of creative energy that’s power is unparallel.

Everyone has the capacity to tap into this source of creativity; we enter the world with that gift. The very act of our birth is a creative moment – we by virtue of our membership in the human race are like divine works of art. Akin to the promise of spring that awakens slumbering seeds enfolded in dark earth, we can reconnect with our primal creative nature. We simply need to rouse the imagination, to kindle that spark of inspiration that forever lies waiting to ignite.

And art isn’t just about painting a still life or reciting archaic poetry...no…it’s not only the ballet or the symphony or statues in a museum. Art is rock and roll, cooking a Cajun feast, creating a simple ritual, or dancing under the full moon when you have two left feet. Art is making love, and making music…it’s raising flowers, raising children and raising energy. Art is basket weaving and weaving a story. It can be anything from paint by numbers to the Mona Lisa and all that is in between. Art is simply any expression of our imagination that results in some sort of transformation. Any creative project is a magical act in and of itself. All creative ventures are sacred deeds in their own right. One of the goals of ritual is transformation of consciousness, to open & deepen our awareness. This serves to strengthen our connection to what we hold sacred. Creativity can strengthen that same connection. In some ways artistic expression is simply communication with the universe on a higher level.

Still, the creative process is mysterious when you think of it. From the moment an idea is planted like a seed and nourished by the fertile imagination, to where it takes root in the plane of existence and is made manifest, artistic endeavors are truly wondrous miracles. Creativity is a progression…it is not a single act but a series of actions. The very journey itself can be the desired objective. Some creations are never finished and that is their intrinsic value. The point is to find meaning in the process, in the discoveries revealed along the way.

You cannot speak of Imbolc, cannot touch on the theme of creativity without acknowledging the prevalence of one particular Goddess from Celtic mythology…known by many names and shown in many images, such as the aforementioned St. Brigit, as well as Breed, Bride, Brigeed, Brigantia, Brighid and more. She is shown as the triple Goddess of poets, metal crafts, and healing…a Goddess of fire and ice, of both the healing spring-fed well and the white-hot flame of a smith’s forge. Her very name means “fiery arrow”, or “bright one”. Perhaps no other deity better encompasses an archetype representing the power of transformation as well as Brighid. She symbolizes transformation thru the conversion of inspiration into art, of raw materials into tools, of compassion into healing. For centuries Brighid’s fires burned at Her sacred temple in Kildare, Ireland. Then, sadly, those torches were extinguished -- but not in the hearts of her devotees. Now, here’s the true miracle…a decade or so ago they were relit, are yet again attended to, and now burn strong once more! The much-loved memory Brighid sparked in her people burned longer than any flame ever could.

Let this fire festival of Imbolc be a reminder to us that the inner flames of our essential being, call it spirit, can always be rekindled...awakened like a dormant seed beneath the snow. No matter how long the grate has been cold all we need to do is sweep out the old ash and start anew. From a single spark to a burning cinder to a bed of hot coals…the fire will grow strong and blaze, the flames will dance and crackle and burn bright. We need only to stoke and feed those flames, to supply the hearth of our souls with ample kindling through acts that provide personal resonance. Acts of love, of playfulness, of creativity, of making sacred and joyful the seemingly mundane; of living our lives in a genuine, authentic way...these provide pure, clean fuel for the spirit-fire within our very core.

So, leave a candle in the window to shine the way for your sense of wonder and awe, tend the hearthside of your spirit lovingly, don’t forget to bank up the coals during those long winter nights so you can rekindle that flame when need be. Oh, and on a somewhat lighter note, in lieu of the icy weather here in NJ and to paraphrase the words of that immortal song…although the weather outside is frightful, the fire inside is delightful!