Imbolc, Brigid, and Fire
One of my favourite times of year
Imbolc arrives ... in Devon with a drenching of rain! Despite the saturated ground the snowdrops have remained holding their own ground, a beacon of hope, cycles and continued survival despite it - a stubbornness in fact. Or am I watching those snowdrops that one day shine so brightly in the golden sun, and another look like they are barely hanging in there, as a representation of myself?!
Imbolc has always been one of my favourite times of year to acknowledge, that time when winter is pushing hard. Many of us seem to be feeling the depths of it this year, there has been alot of illness. The weather has forced us to remain inside, too much and we are desperate to burst free - at least I am. I tell myself patience... I was ready to hunker down, go slow towards the end of Autumn but something is bubbling away inside of me now. Creativity has started to flow again, inspiration has hit and I have things to do.
It feels the light has been gone too long, the warmth missing but the signs of Spring are more obvious with every day.
The days are still cold, the earth still resting, but something has shifted. The light is returning. Seeds are remembering what they came here to do and the birds' morning chatters are louder, bolder, filled with something extra.
Imbolc is traditionally a fire festival, even though it’s rooted in the coldest part of the year - when the warmth is certainly needed and so is the energy that fire brings. It has always felt right to me. Fire starts with a spark.... what else can we start with the smallest of sparks as we step on the threshold of what I consider a hopeful time of year?
With Imbolc comes Brigid - my favourite Goddess
She is a goddess of poetry, healing, smithcraft, fertility and protection. She is both flame and wellspring - I highly recommend a visit to her shrine at the White Spring in Glastonbury - and immersing fully in the well water.
Hearth fire and forge fire. Inspiration and transformation. Carried forward into sainthood, folk tradition, and modern spiritual practice she remains constant and continues to resonate with many.
What I feel most strongly in Brigid is her fire.
Not the wildfire kind, but the sacred, contained flame. The hearth fire that warms and gathers. The forge fire that reshapes metal into something purposeful. The inner fire that keeps you alive when the outer world feels barren - we need that kind of fire more than ever right now.
I am a fire sign and fire is the element I resonate with most— burned by its ashes at 18 months old it has always danced with me.
Fire will always consume what cannot remain, the true fire within ourselves can do this too - trust in it. It transforms everything, sometimes to ashes, sometimes into something brighter.
At Imbolc, this fire feels especially intimate. It’s the flame you light within, the promise you make to yourself with trust and hope. The quiet devotion to what you are becoming, even while the world still looks like winter - a promise to yourself at a time of year when your future is an open book waiting for you to write it your way - step into the story you want to live.
One of the most enduring symbols of Brigid is Brigid’s Cross, traditionally woven from rushes or straw and hung in the home for protection and blessing. Its shape feels like a wheel or a sun, something in motion even while it stands still. I like going to the brook, picking some rushes and making one.
Brigid’s Cross is like a map. The woven middle is the hearth: the core self, the place where your fire lives. The arms extend outward into the world—your work, your relationships, your voice, your offerings. As I make it I think what I want these to look like moving forward. It's a kind of prayer, even if I don’t say a word while weaving it - the intention is set.
So at Imbolc, I return to the questions her flame asks me: What am I tending? What am I ready to reshape? What small spark deserves my care right now?
You don’t need a bonfire to honour this season. A candle will do. A moment of attention. A promise whispered to yourself that you will not abandon the fire that makes you who you are.
Winter is not over yet—but the flame has been lit.
And soon we step into the year of the fire horse…. more on that another day!
You can read more about Imbolc here
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/article/imbolc-celtic-celebration-brigid
Wonderful words xx