Second Chance New Years: Imbolc Tidings and Tidy-ings + An Invitation

There’s this thing my business coach Emily Ann Peterson would say: “If it takes two minutes, let’s just do it now.“

That was a startling idea for me at the time, and for the kind of brain that I have, which always needs one of those minutes just to transition to the new task at hand. I am a chronic “piler” (a family trait) and am the classic kapha-dominant person (that’s high earth element) who needs my room in order before I can start on anything else (which means a lot just doesn’t ever get started…) But I began applying it, not always, not perfectly, but periodically, and it brought my attention to how much more thought energy goes into a thing when I put it off. I think about it—I write it down, even—I think about the most optimal time to do it—how it’s going to feel once I’m done—and then think about it every time I remember that it isn’t done until it is (or until it’s no longer relevant). Overall, I am aware that way more energy goes into that procrastination sink-hole than I’d expend if I just took the two or ten minutes or whatever minutes to “Let’s just do it now” in the first place! (True enough for writing this blog, anyway!)

Don’t misread this as a push for over-work or perfectionism—there are many times when “Let’s just let it go” is the healthier path, and one I’ve also needed to practice. Also, I had to learn that 2-minute things can quickly add up and may never end…so be discerning (Marie Kondo-noviciates, of which I am one, this means you.)

Still, there is something that stirs at this time of year for me—what the ancient Celts called Imbolc, or St/Goddess Brigid’s Day, February 1st—that I think this simple adage helps me attune to: there is a quickening, a lightness, a restlessness from earth-bound hibernation, the darkness and cold of winter just starting to hint of lifting. I have needed the rest, the hibernation, very very much. And now, just yesterday I saw my first crocuses and today my first snowdrops, peering up from the damp earth as if to say in high-pitched sing-song, “Let’s just do it now!”

Rather than the culturally-charged (but meaningless to the Earth) New Year, this is the time of year I like to start things. That’s why I go on personal retreat for Imbolc (I’ll be spending Friday and Saturday at Sublimity Sanctuary, love-land of my buds Rachel and Daniel, who would love to host you too, check them out) and why I choose this time of year to restart my original and most dear program: Moon Circle.

I launched my business with Moon Circle almost 5 years ago, and since then have had the privilege of journeying with over 40 women through various seasons of the earthen calendar and life. Moon Circle is intended as an anchoring touchstone of ritual, sisterhood connection, intuitive listening, feminine divine wisdom, spiritual reflection, and mutual support.  This year, our weekly gathering for spiritually-curious women starts March 7th, and has the special additions of two weekend retreat experiences with local healers and sacred space stewards.

Are you a spiritually curious woman who:

• desires wakeful life in conscious community?

• desires to create life-long rhythms of health, vitality, balance and interconnection?

• desires greater self-trust and to live from their own intuitive wisdom?

• are healing from religious/spiritual trauma or abuse?

• are experiencing grief, loss, isolation, or intense life transitions?

It might just be the perfect time for you to say to yourself: Let’s just do it now. Let’s get the support we need. Let’s explore the questions worth asking. Let’s risk new friendships. Let’s do something that’s a little bit of a stretch (or a lot!) Let’s be willing to hear what Spirit has to say. Let’s try out our voice. What do I save in putting this off? Let’s just do it now.

If you’re interested, but unsure, consider joining me for a FREE no-obligation preview night:

Chanting with the Goddess: A Moon Circle Preview Night for Spiritually-Curious Women

Friday February 15, 7-8:30pm @ Saravida on the Hill, 1011 S. L St.

FREE, but RSVP required, just e-mail me: [email protected]

If you aren’t interested in Moon Circle, but just want to come for the one-time chant night, please do! Love to have you! (To be clear, just women-identified folks this time around—lots of other gender inclusive options are around the corner!) Just know that I will, additionally, be sharing about Moon Circle and attendees will receive an exclusive discount offer.

In closing, I offer you some poetic words arising this Imbolc season:

***

An Imbolc Call

How do you want to move?

Slowly.

Then stop. Don’t move. Breathe. And when you feel like rising do it. And when you feel like sitting do it. And when you feel like draping yourself facedown on the earth do it. Do it now.

How do you want to eat?

Lavishly.

Then stop. Gently slide your lips around the fleshy curves of this pink fat fig. Puncture its ripeness with your teeth, a slow hunger barely restrained. And notice as your jaws flex, your tongue lolls within this sweet body. Stop everything else. Do it now.

How do you want to listen?

Like the angel of God is speaking.

Then stop. Alert yourself to the evensong of birch leaves and crow feathers, a faucet flowing and a child’s socked feet scampering up stairs. Sigh to the ocean sound of the freeway just north, and let your ears ascend to these high crystal notes: jet engine and the woman next door. Stop hearing noise with your every listening. Do it now.

How do you want to rest?

Deeper than the Milky Way.

Then stop. Breathe your bones wider and your belly softer and your urgency less so. Receive yourself into your mother’s mossy breast and let yourself be swaddled in kelp and currents. Do this right now, before something ticks or beeps or rings. Do it now.

How do you want to love?

Recklessly, like the world was on fire.

Oh beloved one, it is. It is on fire—for want of your reckless love and because of it. So stop. Stop peeking around corners with your pocket mirror. The beloved is before you and behind you and peeking back at you in the glass. Place your hands over your heart and rub vigorously, like flint stones sparking—then fling your pheonix wings wide. Welcome in, the indiscriminate blaze, all that your feather-flames touch. Do it now, before you lose your courage or your madness.