Early morning is here
It's time to release the deep hibernation of winter. The light is growing. And we are invited to slowly, gently awaken. Plus, how can it be that it's time for my last Winter Note to you?
Hello, you. And a most blessed Imbolc.
Once again, the wheel of the the year turns and it is time to enter a new season. And that means that this is the last Winter Note I will send to you. Of course, winter is not quite over, but spring has not yet begun either. Still, there is a shift today. We are moving onward, leaving behind the deep winter, and saying farewell to the first month of 2023. And, in this last winter note to you, I want to celebrate the magical, gentle shift with you. So, here we are. Together in spirit. Ready to celebrate the ancient festival that lies halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. The festival that moves us from winter and into the energy of spring.
I wonder… how do you count seasons? How do you move through the year? Do you recognize and move through the 4 traditional seasons of winter, spring, summer, and autumn? Or do you simply focus on the two seasons of light and dark, as many of our ancestors did? Perhaps, you mark the passage of time with a religious, liturgical calendar of holy days. Or maybe you celebrate the seasons of the year with rituals for the 8 festivals of the ancient Celtic calendar of the wheel.
However you move through the year, in whatever way you pause and notice the subtle changes and movements of the rhythm of nature, I invite you to pause for just a moment today, as you read this last winter note to you, and breathe in the quiet, slow energy that invites soft, gentle movement forward.
Today, in the northern hemisphere, we begin to awaken. The festival of Imbolc arrives, marks the end of deep winter, and leads us toward the cusp of early spring. This is the season of emergence. Slow, gentle, and soft. Like waking early in the morning, becoming conscious and aware, stretching and yawning, shaking off deep, dreamy sleep, wiggling toes and fingers, and, ever so slowly, sitting up. But, there is no hurry, no urgency - kind of like a weekend morning. All there is to do is to breathe deeply, to be present, and to awaken.
Imbolc is like waking in the early morning. It is the time of quickening, of quiet stirrings, of unseen and slow movement. The word imbolc comes from the Old Irish i mbolg meaning in the belly, a time when sheep are nearing birth. It is the time, even way up here in the Nordic countries, when we know that spring is not far off. Birds begin to sing in the morning, tiny flowers pop up from the ground amid the snow. The earth is still cold and snowy. The trees are still bare. Winter is still here. But, if we are quiet, we hear a sweet birdsong in the distance. If we pay attention, we see tiny buds on a plant here + there. More obviously, we notice the returning of the sun and its warmth a little more every single day. It is winter, but the earth is preparing for spring. And we are preparing for spring as well. Perhaps even longing for it. But, we are not yet ready to rise.
This is the season of pre-dawn. It’s dark out. Still cold, still wintry. There is a faint sliver of a sunrise. But, it’s not time to get up quite yet. However, we are waking. Stirring. Embracing soft flow. Gently rubbing our eyes, clarifying our vision, so we can see the new day dawning.
This is the time to grieve those cozy dark days we’ve loved and now left behind. The wheel now turns away from the long, dark nights of winter and welcomes the return of light and warmth. It is time clarify our vision for the new year. To bring the dreams and ponderings and wisdom gleaned in the darkness into focus. What is it that we have learned? What have we experienced? What did we dream of? How do we want the year ahead to be?
In the weeks and month ahead, we will shift back and forth between winter and spring. The changing of the seasons does not happen over night, but, rather, it is a long, slow, gentle unfolding. A quiet dance of balance. Some days we will feel the sun warming our skin and feel the hope of spring very close by. Other days will be gray and cold, and we’ll think that spring will never come.
It’s all ok, however it is. We can feel free to be and feel exactly how we are and feel from day to day. It is my hope to greet the warm, bright days with slow movement and the cold, dark days with quiet stillness. I want to dance and flow with the seasons. As they unfold, so will I.
It is time to begin to leave winter behind and to release all of that deep, inward, resting energy. Now, we start to open our eyes, begin to move our stiff bones, open our windows, set our bare feet on the ground, emerge from our cocoons, and slowly, slowly rise to life again. After the deep winter, we are not the same. So this season is here to inspire us to embrace how we have changed so we, like all of nature, can rise to the new year that lies before us.
Like the first, tiny flowers pushing up from the soft ground, the lengthening days and the warmer weather, we slowly begin to emerge from our winter hibernation. As we watch how the earth slowly awakens + is reborn, it is good to remember that this emergence takes time. There are still snow days mixed in with the first warm, sunny days. And, if you’re like me, then there are still moments where we feel not quite ready to rise from our cozy, winter slumber. So, this is the perfect time to simply drop into the slow unfolding of the season. To understand that waking + rising is meant to take some time. Even for us.
Early morning is here. Remember, though, be still and slow. There is no hurry, no urgency, no rush. Take your time waking. Move your body very gently and slowly. Breathe deeply. Again and again and again. Just listen. Take in the silent, solitary pre-dawn hours. Feel the stirrings in your soul. Stretch and ground yourself. Know that your roots that have grown even deeper + stronger all winter long. Do not worry yourself about rising quite yet. Just awaken. Embrace the slow, gentle movement forward. The new year is unfolding.
And now, it is time to bring the Winter Notes to a close. It was always my intention to write to you as we moved through the deepest parts of winter, beginning with Advent, moving through December, marking the Winter Solstice and Christmas, welcoming a new calendar year, pausing for Epiphany, and ending on Imbolc. And I have so enjoyed moving through this season with you. I hope that you feel the same.
Blessings of warmth and light to you, my friend, as you begin to emerge.
(Spring missives will land in your inbox off + on from now until May 1 as we continue to move through the seasons together).
xoxo. liz.
A simple Imbolc ritual
To bring the new, fresh, awakening energy of Imbolc into my home, I like to clean, organize, and purify. It’s a way to physically release all of the winter energy that has accumulated over the past few months. And it gives me a sense of a fresh start, a new beginning. I open my front door wide and let all of that cold, late winter/early spring air rush in. And, then I often use incense to cleanse my space as well, as a ritual to welcome in Imbolc and the season of slow emergence.
Finally, since Imbolc welcomes the return of light and warmth to our days, on Imbolc eve (January 31) at sunset, I set a white candle (tealights are great) in each room of my home as a symbol of the light of early spring and a prayer of blessing for each space. If I have time, I also find it meaningful to take a shower or bath on Imbolc, as a way to cleanse and purify my own body, preparing myself for my own physical slow emergence back to life after the hibernation of winter.
Good morning, friend! Lovely post. Did you make your Spotify playlist private? I was going to listen to it😊
I just now noticed your reply. I can access it now. Thanks! Hope you had a good Wednesday!