Imbolc is for imbas

conjuring creativity as the Earth warms

It’s been unseasonably warm here in Northern California. It has rained for days, melting the foot of snow and revealing my raspberry canes and overwintering kale. The jays are active and scavenging for morsels. Even little gnats have been dancing their way across my path. Last night I heard a frog singing. Halfheartedly I welcome the temperate weather, making the most of my favorite walking paths while I still can. The other half of me tingles with anticipation; another Summer of fires that keeps one in low-grade flight mode. Such is life as a student of cycles living during a climate catastrophe. The Earth speaks in less mysterious ways the more you attune to her cycles. The more you attune to her cycles, the more aware you become that something is off. There is something that feels urgent about an early Spring. 

Last February there was a significant blanket of snow covering the Earth and I was 4 months pregnant. All of my energy was going towards creating a new being. While it was a time of psychic richness it was also a challenging period, where my impulse to show up and play my typical roles was supremely tested. The role I was embodying was one of a birthing person, and that’s about all I could manage. In our modern societies we often feel we have to be multiple things all at once; the good friend, the artist, the gardener, the student, the partner, the daughter… and in that moment nearly everything I had known myself to be had melted away, and I was becoming the portal for another life to enter the world. In that place of singular focus there was calm and there was grief. A calm sense of purpose and the grief of letting go of who I was and had been as I navigated the transition to mother. Last year I felt that I understood the magic and meaning of Imbolc more than ever before, and reflecting on it now brings up so many questions about creativity and the creative process.

I’d encourage you to reflect on where you found yourself last year around this time. What were you grappling with? What was developing and taking shape within and around you? How did you tap into your creative self at that time? 

Imbolc marks the middle point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. The Sun’s strength is returning. The days grow less and less dark. Life is stirring up from the cold dark Earth and new life is beginning to take form. Winter's clutches are slowly softening, and the golden light warms us to what is becoming. Imbolc is the crucible for creative maturation. It is during this time of the Earth’s cycle when intentions are most ripe for shaping. Now is the time for weaving our willow reeds into shape. At Imbolc we set the altar to magnetize our creative dreams into reality. This time is sacred to the goddess Brigid, who is the patron deity of creation; metal crafts, brewing, midwifery, poetry, the hearth… and inspiration all fall under her magical repertoire. 

What is your creative craft and who is your patron ancestor, archetype, spirit, deity? 

Lately my ancestor of inspiration has been the late Diane di Prima. I perform bibliomancy with Loba in the morning. I examine her birth chart. I spend time reading the books that were a part of her occult library. 

Below I have a channeled reading for my paid subscribers, but before I share that I will offer all a short meditation for your Imbolc celebrations. This meditation, practice, inspiration snack is a way to call forth your own creative muses. 

Set aside 10 minutes in your day to call forth the muses. Do this as much as you like, as many times as you need, and whenever you would like to intentionally center your creative spirit. During these 10 minutes have at the ready a notebook, a candle, and a libation (water, beer, wine, coffee, milk - whatever speaks to you as a good offering to the muses).

Ground your energy into the Earth and send the land your awareness and gratitude. 
Light the candle with the intention of igniting your creative spirit. 
“With this light, my creative spirit glows bright”
Settle into your notebook. Start with the word: muse. Write a list, poem, stream of consciousness bramble on the heart of what muse means to you. Let it pour out from your heart. Once you feel complete, take your libation out someplace where you can pour it onto Earth, and give thanks to the muses for their inspiration and creative support. 
Notice what transpires as you engage with this work. 

Your channeled missive for this creative moment is below - complete with a spread you can activate with your own guides. 

Wishing you all a fruitful and inspiring Imbolc ~