It’s about this time of year that I start wondering how Brigit snuck up on me. . . again. I don’t know why it does. I have been wearing a daily reminder since Yule on my wrist and seeing it on the wrists of some of my closest every day. That red and white string tied up with wishes for the first sign of spring waiting for the moment my eyes spot spring for the first time. In the back of my mind, I keep debating which tree will hold my spring wishes still. I guess it will be a thing I will know when I see it.
I think the cold keeps my thoughts moved toward the Auld Woman. I don’t begrudge Her her blanket of cold, it’s her thing. I’m just very vocal about my not liking being cold. I prefer to be flash frozen so I can’t feel it. I’m not sure I look forward to thawing, often times thawing is like the pin prick sensation you get when your foot has fallen asleep and blood begins to flow back in. You know its a good and healthy sign that vitality is returning ( I think I heard you cringe,) but the discomfort of the moment drives you to places you don’t really want to exist. Brigit is like that for me.
Brigit forces me to look at things in my life and ask: what do I need? It takes me to a time when my needs could not be filled, so I stopped asking. I suppose I forgot how to answer the question. What do I need? What do I want? What will make me thrive and grow?
My sister visited over the Yule holiday season. I think me being satisfied with just being and breathing because I have to seriously annoys her. I think she remembers a person I don’t. I think she’s getting ready to send in the Marines and dig through the rubble to find her. Not a chore I want her to embark upon (she’ll not be nice ) so I had better let some of that permafrost sit in the sunshine for a while and endure the pin pricks of waking up from under the comfort of the Auld Woman’s cloak. My sister left one more gift for me after everything was unwrapped and doted over. I had come home from work with my mom was trying to hand me money. I rolled my eyes and declined. . . there is no way in the world I am taking money from my mom, no way in Hades was that going to happen. I was even more determined when she announced it was from my sister. My mom was having none of it and told me it wasn’t money, but a message. I looked closer, she was right. At first, I think I was rankled because of a hard conversation my sister and I had and annoyed she would sacrifice money to deliver this message. *pin pricks*
I have no idea how to be okay letting the permafrost slide into the warmth of light. I never feel okay with the prickings of waking and crawling out from the covers. I can hear my Mom say: baby steps. I think the first thing to do is to start breaking the silence with music. It’s been gone too long. Who knows, maybe I’ll accidentally dance.
In the mean time, I know the rites by heart. Maybe the things I should be waking up this spring will finally answer the questions I have been dancing away from: what do I want? what do I need? I think I need to borrow Brigid’s fire. My little string of red and white still waits for a tree.
Blessings of fire and light to you and yours this Brigit, most of you will call it Candlemas or Imbolc, but I am Feri. I can hear the Descent of Brigit roll through my mind and the striking of fire. . . I wonder when I’ll catch.