Tag: brigid

When the Internet Wants You to Be a Different Kind of Irish

I’ve spent the last few days doing something I probably shouldn’t have, given that I’m currently off work with exhaustion. I’ve been online, trying to have conversations with Irish Americans about St. Patrick, about what Ireland actually is today, about the gap between the island their ancestors left and the one I live on now.

It’s been a rough 36 hours. (If you search for me over on Threads, you can probably retrace the whole thing!)

I don’t regret it. But I won’t pretend it didn’t cost me something.

(And yes, being off work is why this is here on Wednesday evening and not Monday morning like usual)

So Let’s Talk About Aul Paddy

I don’t write about him every year, cos I have better things to be doing, but here’s a post from 2022 talking about him as well.

There’s a particular kind of tiredness that comes not from the argument itself, but from the invisible labour underneath it: the constant recalibrating, the search for the right words, the hope that this time the point will land.

So here are a few things worth knowing about St. Patrick, since we’ve just been through another year of the myths doing the rounds.

A snippet from the RTE coverage of the St Patrick's Day in Dublin, which is all about being Irish in our many shapes and colours!
Screenshot from the RTE news coverage of the Dublin Paddy’s Day Parade, you can see it all here: https://www.rte.ie/player/series/rt%C3%A9-news-six-one/SI0000001474?epguid=IH10016318-26-0076

Patrick didn’t kill pagans. He himself considered his mission to Ireland a failure. The snakes weren’t pagans either, that’s a later invention. What Patrick did have, however, were excellent propagandists a few centuries after his death. If you want a genuinely gripping political read, look into the row between Armagh and Kildare in the 7th or 8th century about who would claim the supremacy of Ireland. Spoiler: Armagh and Patrick won that particular battle. Though it’s worth noting that Brigid did considerably more work in the succeeding centuries… but that’s a story for another day, and honestly, a subject close to my heart.

Paddy also wasn’t Irish…

What “Irish” Actually Means

This is where the conversations got harder.

“Irish” means born here, or living here for a considerable period of time, knowing the culture, the politics, the modern history. It means existing inside this place, not just carrying it in your blood memory.

Being Irish American means that somewhere along the line, you had an Irish ancestor. Chances are they were a poor peasant, heading to lands far away for survival. Good on them, the fact that you’re here and exist means it worked. It’s a remarkable story. But it doesn’t make you Irish.

And the Ireland many Irish Americans are so fiercely proud of? It’s a photograph of someone who used to live here. Beautiful. Sincere. Real in its own way. But not quite us anymore.

Here’s some of what modern Ireland actually looks like:

There are Black and brown Irish people. Here, living on this island, playing hurling, playing Gaelic, playing soccer, singing, dancing, serving as politicians, just being people. They’re as Irish as I am. One of them was Taoiseach a few years ago. There is no pure Irish bloodline: we’re a nation of mongrels, and always have been.

If you’re telling me you can trace your lineage to before Christianity arrived on these shores, I’d gently suggest you’ve been extremely misled. For many reasons, we are lucky on this island to trace lineage back to the Great Hunger. Prior to the 17th century, most of us don’t even have church records. But sure – you’re definitely a descendant of Niall of the Nine Hostages.

The Ireland We Actually Live In

Ireland sides with oppressed peoples. Saoirse don PhailistĂ­n. We recognise the behaviour: the British practiced it on us first, and we haven’t forgotten what that looks like.

The Irish language isn’t dead. It’s going through a revival, and thankfully so.

Our Head of State is our President, ár Uachtarán, currently Catherine Connolly (our third female president). Our Head of Government is the Taoiseach, Micheál MartĂ­n, the man you may have seen at the White House recently. ( You may have heard him being referred to as a Prime Minister, that’s a bad translation of an Irish word)

We voted in Marriage Equality. We repealed the 8th. We are not the Catholic island of your great-grandmother’s stories. We’ve changed, sometimes painfully, often beautifully.

Why This Is Personal

I found myself asking, somewhere in the middle of all this: why does it land so hard? Why does correcting a myth about a 5th century saint feel so exhausting?

I think it’s because identity isn’t abstract for me. It’s something I’ve spent years rooting myself in. Not the postcard version, but the real, complicated, sometimes painful story of this island. I’ve walked a spiritual path with Brigid long enough to understand that she herself holds that complexity. She is saint and goddess, fire and water, patron of poetry and of smithcraft, Of making things and of tending the flame. She doesn’t flatten into a simple story. Neither does Ireland.

That’s part of what learning about her has given me. Not just devotion, but groundedness. A sense of actually knowing where I come from – which makes it harder to stay silent when that story gets simplified, and harder still not to feel the weight of trying to hold the real version up against the wind.

Coming Back to Myself

I’m not writing this to criticise anyone. The love is real – I know that. But I’m also genuinely, medically tired. Which made the last few days both harder and, strangely, more clarifying.

Because when you don’t have the energy to perform patience, you fall back on what’s real. And what’s real for me is this path, this practice, this sense of being held by something older and steadier than any comment section. Brigid has been walked with through harder things than this. She’ll survive it too.

I came back to myself eventually, as I always do, by stepping away from the screen and back into something quieter. A candle. A few slow breaths. The ordinary, unglamorous work of remembering who I actually am, where I actually stand, what I actually know.

That’s the gift of a grounded practice. Not that it makes you invincible. Not that it stops the world from being exhausting. But that it gives you somewhere to return to when it is.

So if you’re Irish, or Irish-adjacent, or just someone who found themselves in an argument this week that cost more than it should have: I see you. Rest. Come back to yourself. The flame will keep.

Staying Rooted: Sustainable Women’s Spiritual Leadership

Sustainable leadership isn’t glamorous. It doesn’t always look like firelit rituals, profound revelations, or moments of soaring clarity. More often, it looks like rhythm, honesty, boundaries, and choosing steadiness over spectacle. For women in spiritual leadership, staying rooted is less about mastering a set of practices and more about learning how to live in a way that allows the work to continue without consuming the one who does it.

So many women begin this path full of devotion and excitement. A spark that lights quickly. But over time, leadership asks for something deeper: a grounded pace, a long view, and a relationship with yourself that is spacious enough to hold the weight of others without collapsing under it. Staying rooted is how we turn spiritual leadership from a season into a life.

Now, this is not to say that once a leader, you have to stay in that role forever. Far from it! But keeping in touch with the core of yourself is important.

A green background with a darker tree showing roots going deep and a full head of leaves. It's screaming "staying rooted" to me!

The Pace of Longevity

Women are conditioned to confuse worth with availability. We’re taught to respond immediately, give generously, say yes instinctively, and apologise for having needs. But spiritual leadership with no edges will eventually drain even the most devoted among us. Staying rooted means refusing the cultural script that says leadership must be relentless. A sustainable pace is cyclical, not linear. Like breath, tide, or season.

Some days you give. Other days you retreat. Some seasons call for teaching, guiding, and holding. Others ask you to study, wander the land, sleep, or be silent. The work deepens when we allow ourselves to move with, rather than against, these natural rhythms. Simply put: you are not meant to be “on” all the time. Rooted leadership honours that truth.

Some of you may remember I have previously mentioned Anne Bishop’s fiction – not necessarily on the blog, but certainly in classes. In her Dark Jewels novels, a Queen (a magical practitioner and ruler of the highest rank – this is fantasy, ok?) loses empathy and connection when she neglects the time spent on the land. And that rings very true for me as well. It is as important as anything else!

Escaping the Good Woman Trap

The “good woman” archetype is the enemy of sustainable leadership. It whispers that good women always help, never disappoint, stay agreeable, and keep everyone comfortable. But spiritual leadership isn’t about being good. It’s about being true. The pressure to please pulls women out of alignment faster than any external demand ever could.

Staying rooted means asking real questions before saying yes:
Does this serve the work? Does it nourish me? Am I acting from devotion or from fear of disappointing someone?

Integrity is not measured by how much you give but by whether your giving comes from wholeness. A rooted woman does not serve from depletion. She refuses the idea that her exhaustion is proof of her dedication. She trusts that clarity is kinder than overextension, and boundaries are a blessing to everyone involved.

Devotion That Nourishes, Not Performs

There is a quiet danger in spiritual leadership: your public work can begin to replace your private practice. When you spend your days preparing rituals, holding space, answering questions, and supporting others, it’s easy to mistake that labour for devotion. But devotion that nourishes is not the kind that is witnessed. It is the practice that no one sees.

Light a candle in the morning.
Whisper a prayer while making tea.
Walk on the land.
Study an old text.
A moment of silence before sleep.

These small devotions feed the inner fire that leadership depends on. Performance sprints; devotion sustains. Staying rooted means tending your spiritual life not as content, but as nourishment: something alive, intimate, and yours alone.

Practices That Keep You Steady

Sustainability grows from the simple things done regularly. Brief check-ins with yourself can prevent overwhelm before it builds:

Where is my energy today?
What needs my presence?
Where do I deliver my “no”?
What needs to be released or rescheduled?

After sessions or gatherings, closing rituals keep the boundaries clean. Wash your hands slowly. Step outside for air. Touch the earth. Thank whatever held you. Tell your body, “Enough for now.” These small closures protect you from carrying what isn’t yours. Rooted leaders rest as intentionally as they work.

The Power of Community and Accountability

(Yes, we mentioned this last week as well. But it’s important!!)

Sustainable women’s spiritual leadership cannot happen in isolation. You need peers who see you clearly, mentors who aren’t dazzled by you, and community members who hold you accountable with kindness. Leadership becomes dangerous, to you and to others, when your only mirror is yourself.

Accountability is not punishment; it is protection.
It keeps your edges clean.
Prevents subtle inflation or quiet erosion.
Reminds you that you’re part of something larger than your own story.

Community is not a luxury. It is the scaffold that allows long-term leadership to stand.

Community can be a three-person whatsapp group mostly exchanging memes. Or a monthly accountability call as part of a virtual setting. It can be a cup of tea with a trusted friend. Or a wild night out with a trusted friend. You do you.

The Art of Healthy Withdrawal

Modern culture treats rest as a failure of discipline. Spiritual leadership — real, ethical leadership — recognises withdrawal as a necessary rhythm. There will be seasons when you teach less, share less, or step back to tend to what’s stirring inside you. This isn’t retreat from responsibility; it’s commitment to depth.

Stepping back prevents collapse.
It preserves clarity.
Stepping back keeps the path honest.

Withdrawal is not absence. It is cultivation.

Repair as a Form of Staying Rooted

No leader, no matter how ethical or experienced, avoids mistakes. What determines the longevity of your leadership is not perfection, but repair. Quick, clean repair prevents harm from taking root. It clears the relational field. It nourishes trust.

A sustainable leader apologises without self‑punishment, receives feedback without collapse, and adjusts with integrity. This kind of repair keeps you grounded. And keeps your community safe.

A Prayer for the Long Journey

If you intend to walk this path for years, let your choices reflect the length of your devotion. Stay rooted in what is real. Let your leadership be a hearth, not a wildfire. Something that warms steadily, gently, predictably, and without burning you out.

Brigid, you recognise the power of the liminal, but also the power of a strong boundary. Help me maintain my boundaries clearly. My pace kindly. Kindle my devotion as a long burning fire, not a flash in the pan. Help me find the community to hold me stead. Help me find the work that sustains and doesn’t deplete me.

This is sustainable women’s spiritual leadership.

This is how we stay rooted.

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

Yes, we are continuing on this series of women’s spiritual leadership. This week, looking at the inner work involved. Look, some of the things I was seeing online and elsewhere around Imbolc have inspired this. And even if you don’t feel called to leadership,. let these articles inform your choice of leader! (previous posts are here, here, and here)

Navigating Power, Vulnerability, and Growth

There’s a part of leadership that nobody prepares you for: the way the role rearranges your inner world. On the outside, the tasks are clear enough. Hholding ritual, making decisions, guiding conversations, offering perspective. But inside, women’s spiritual leadership opens complicated doors.

Old patterns wake up. Tender places ask for attention. You discover that holding space for others requires you to hold deeper space for yourself: the kind that can feel both tender and fierce at the same time. Remember, Brigid is a firm proponent of the slap to the back of the head technique when we’re not listening! And she is particularly adept at highlighting when I’m not attending to the inner work. Spiritual leadership requires it. Trust me.

I used to think leadership was something I would “grow into,” like a coat that would eventually fit. Now I think of it more like a landscape I walk through daily, one that changes with the weather of my life and the seasons of my soul. Some days are clear and bright; everything feels simple. Other days are fogged with self‑doubt or pricked by old memories. Nothing is wrong when that happens. It’s just the terrain reminding me that inner work is not a separate practice from leadership. It is the heart of it.

A green background allows various shades of green to reflect a hill, a path, some trees. A black female figure walks the land. This is the Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

The Tension Between Humility and Self‑Erasure

Many women were raised to make ourselves small so that others could be comfortable. Then we step into leadership and try to reconcile confidence with care, visibility with gentleness, authority with humility. It can be easy to mistake self‑erasure for virtue. But humility is not the silence of your power; it is the clarity with which you use it. It’s standing in your centre without inflation or apology, refusing to dominate the room, but also refusing to abandon it. When we address the inner work of women’s spiritual leadership, we have to acknowledge this tension.

And ok – sometimes you need to dominate the room. And other times you need to abandon said room. But horses for courses, ok?

When that old impulse to shrink arrives, and for many of us, it does, I take it as a signal to slow down and check in:

Am I avoiding clarity because I fear I will be judged?

Am I softening my language so I won’t be called “too much”?

Leadership asks for honesty here. Sometimes the most ethical, generous thing you can do is to speak plainly and trust the strength of the space you’re holding.

For some of us, speaking plainly comes more easily than others, but it’s a skill worth cultivating.

Meeting the Old Stories with New Courage

Women’s spiritual leadership often collides with old narratives:

🔥the teacher who didn’t believe you,

🔥a priest who shamed your questions,

🔥the community that rewarded your helpfulness but punished your voice.

Those memories don’t always arrive as thoughts. Sometimes they show up as a squeezing in the chest, a need to over‑explain, a jitter under the skin that makes you rush when you could move slowly. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership can escalate these feelings. It rarely reduces them.

When that happens, I don’t treat it as failure. I treat it as information. The body remembers what the mind tries to tidy away. I ask:

What age is this reaction?

Whose voice am I hearing?

What do I need now to meet this moment as the woman I am, not the girl I was?

Sometimes the answer is a breath and a glass of water. It can be cancelling a commitment and going to the land. Sometimes it is calling a trusted peer who will remind me of what is true. And occasionally, it’s arriving on a friend’s doorstep in floods of tears, begging for help.

Intuition and Discernment

Spiritual leadership invites intuition to sit at the table. But intuition is not infallible, and discernment is not the enemy of mystery. I often imagine these two as companions walking with me: intuition bringing the spark and the knowing, discernment asking the kind of questions that keep us honest. What else could be true? What do I know for sure? Is this mine or does it belong to the other person? Where is my edge here?

Women are often praised for intuition and not taught the discipline of discernment. The truth is we need both. Intuition opens doors we didn’t know existed. Discernment checks that we have the keys we need, the consent we require, and the capacity to walk through without doing harm.

Or, in the words of an ex-colleague of mine: just because it smells like shit, doesn’t mean it will promote growth.

Shadow Work as an Ethical Practice

Shadow is not a moral failing; it’s the part of us that prefers to be unseen. In leadership, shadow can look like subtle superiority (“I know best”), quiet resentment (“I give more than I receive”), or slippery avoidance (“If I’m kind enough, I won’t have to set the boundary”). The work isn’t to banish these impulses; it’s to notice them early and choose differently.

I think of shadow work as a daily hygiene: a quick scan for contractions in the body, a look for places where I’m seeking approval rather than truth, a willingness to say, “I was wrong,” while the moment is still fresh enough to repair. This is not self‑punishment. It’s devotion to clean leadership, the kind that leaves people more sovereign, not more dependent.

Of course, there is deeper shadow work I have done, am doing and will do in the future. That’s normal and human. But it’s also the daily check ins we so often forget. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership very often forces more shadow work upon us, as we work through the old torments.

The Land, the Body, and the Gods

When the inner weather turns, I go outside if I can. I’m privileged to have a garden that allows this. The land has a way of re‑sizing my concerns and returning me to proportion. I walk until my breath finds me. Put my hand on a tree and listen. Make a drink and watch the steam. (Or I make a drink and appreciate the taste of the grapes in the wine…) Simple practices. Old practices. The body follows the land’s lead. The nervous system remembers what safety feels like when we move slowly and pay attention.

If you are a devotee of gods or saints, bring them into this, not as a task to perform, but as companionship. I don’t ask the divine to erase my humanity. I spent too long remembering that humanity! Instead, I ask for the courage to inhabit it with grace. Leadership doesn’t require us to be perfect. It asks us to be honest, to keep learning, and to return again and again to the practices that make us kind, clear, and steady.

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership: A Quiet Benediction

If you are a woman stepping into spiritual leadership, know this: the parts of you that tremble are not disqualifying. The tremble is evidence that you care. The path you’re walking is not about becoming untouchable; it’s about becoming trustworthy, which is a very different thing. Trustworthiness grows in the soil of felt reality, the days you tell the truth gently, repair quickly, and choose groundedness over performance.

Your inner landscape will keep changing as the seasons change. Let it. Let it teach you. Make you a leader who carries warmth without burning, clarity without cutting, and power without pretending you never doubted. That’s leadership people can breathe around. That’s leadership that heals.

Women’s Spiritual Leadership Ethics

How to Guide Others with Integrity and Care

If the last two pieces explored responsibility and visibility, this one turns inward, toward conscience. I appreciate that women’s spiritual leadership ethics is a mouthful. And not really that sexy. Not the lofty, abstract kind of post, but the everyday conscience that sits beside you when someone asks, “What should I do?”

Anyone who guides others, whether they’re a priest, celebrant, coach, elder, or simply the woman people turn to when everything is falling apart, eventually confronts the ethical weight of that question. Women’s spiritual leadership ethics live right at the heart of that moment.

I’ve never believed that ethics are a dusty set of rules. They’re a way of walking. They’re the shape integrity takes when things get complicated. So rather than a manual or a code, what follows is really a conversation. With yourself, with the people you support, and with the role you inhabit, intentionally or otherwise.

A green background, with the shape of a woman with her hair in a bun in black with a yellow tulip shaped flower in her torso and rays of green surrounding the flower. Women's spiritual leadership ethics come from within us!

This surprises no-one, right?

Ethical guidance always begins with consent, and not the soft, implied kind that arises because someone keeps talking and you’re the nearest steady presence. Consent in spiritual work means clarity: what are you actually doing together? Are you sharing a perspective, or offering direction? Are you teaching, or simply witnessing? Without this clarity, guidance can slip quietly into control, even when your tone is gentle and your intentions are good. Consent also includes the right to stop, to pause, and to protect your own boundaries. This is a crucial part of women’s spiritual leadership ethics, which refuses the old pattern of women giving endlessly until they are emptied.

Knowing Your Limits

Again, I preach this over and over. Don’t teach what you don’t know. One of the most ethical things a guide can do is recognise when something is outside their lane. There are moments when what a person truly needs belongs to a therapist, a doctor, a solicitor, or a crisis service, not to you. There are times when a question falls outside your tradition or your experience. Staying in your lane isn’t a lack of courage. It’s integrity. It keeps people safer than any impulse to be the one who knows everything ever could.

If someone comes to me looking for Brigid as a link to Maman Brigitte? I’m steering clear of that. There may be a link, but I haven’t experienced it and my experience with voudoun is zero. So I’m not going there.

Power, Transparency, and the Quiet Responsibilities of Leadership

Even when you don’t intend to hold power, people may place it in your hands simply because you listen well or speak clearly. That’s part of the nature of spiritual leadership. One of the gentlest antidotes to unconscious power is transparency. When you make your process visible, and by that I mean: how you make decisions, what informs your perspective, what your boundaries are around time, availability, confidentiality, and money. Once you make your process visible, you invite trust instead of projection. Transparency keeps the ground steady under both of you, and it’s a core principle within ethical women’s spiritual leadership, where clarity replaces authority for authority’s sake.

I try to present myself online as I do in real life. It’s not always possible. I mean, very few people have seen me mid-tummy bug for example. But I try to keep it real. And I also try to let people know what they’re getting into when they start working with me. Because I know I’m not for everyone. No one is.

Keeping Stories Sacred

If someone offers you their truth – the raw, vulnerable, complicated version – it is not material for content or conversation elsewhere. Honouring privacy is one of the deepest spiritual acts in any leadership role. If you’re unsure whether you can share a story, then you can’t. When people know their story will not be used to polish your persona or fuel your next online post, they can soften, breathe, and do the work they came to do.

And even when I do share stories, they’re anonymised. I try to keep it at the level of “I’m talking to many women who…” rather than “here’s a story that happened to a follower of mine”. I hope the difference there is obvious.

Navigating Money Without Shame or Manipulation

Money and spirituality tend to make people twitchy, but ethics demand we address them honestly. And this is an area I struggle with.

Some things belong in the realm of gift: the quick blessing, the small kindness, the simple moment of support. But they are also voluntary. Not required. People might demand all they like, but no matter what leadership position you are in, you owe nobody anything!

Other work requires actual labour, skill, and emotional energy, and that work deserves to be paid for. There is nothing unethical about charging fairly for the work you have trained for. What matters is clarity and the refusal to use fear, urgency, or spiritual scarcity as sales tactics. In women’s spiritual leadership ethics, coercion has no home. And that goes both ways, from leader and practitioner or client.

Supporting Sovereignty, Not Dependency

If someone cannot make a decision without you, something is off. Ethical guidance strengthens a person’s own discernment rather than replacing it with yours. You may offer insight, name what you see, or open doors they hadn’t considered. But ultimately, the work is to help them hear their own wisdom. And, most importantly, to step back far enough that they can trust it. A guide who celebrates when someone no longer needs them is a guide who understands the heart of the work.

You don’t control other people’s lives and sometimes – it’s time to cut the chord. Gently, sometimes, but firmly.

Repairing Harm With Humility

Even with the best intentions, harm sometimes happens. A poorly timed question, a misunderstood suggestion, a ritual that opens more than someone can integrate… It’s part of the territory. Ethics doesn’t promise perfection; it promises repair. Repair means listening without defensiveness, apologising with clarity, and taking responsibility for your part. If we expect those we guide to grow, then we must model what real accountability looks like.

We can all cause harm. We all do, just by living. When you know better, do better, remember? Women’s spiritual leadership ethics demand more than the traditional male model. It’s important to consider this. We’re not looking to recreate, we’re looking to do better.

And sometimes there’s harm you can’t heal. Learn from it. Be humble. Do better next time.

Tending Your Own Practice

This comes down the list, but it’s probably one of the most important topics to consider. Fill your own cup before you pour from empty.

One of the quiet dangers of guiding others is neglecting your own spiritual life. It is far too easy to become the mentor who never returns to their own well. But exhaustion, isolation, and disconnection erode ethics faster than anything else. A spiritual leader who doesn’t nurture their own practice becomes brittle. Make space to study, to pray, to reflect, to be a beginner again. Ethics rests on honesty, and honesty is impossible without a living, breathing spiritual life beneath it.

Self-care is community care.

The Need for Community

And following on from that…

No one leads ethically in isolation. Community challenges us, steadies us, and keeps us from drifting into our own unchecked authority. Whether your work is rooted in a lineage or built from your lived experience, you need peers who are not impressed by you. Community keeps the edges of our ethics sharp and reminds us that leadership is not about perfection.

It is about service.

The Quiet Test

In the end, it all comes back to something simple: after an interaction, can you sit quietly with yourself? Can you meet your own eyes without the small wince that says you crossed a line? If the answer is yes, good. If there’s a stone in your stomach, look again.

Ethics is not a declaration. It is the daily choice to be clean with your power, generous with your care, and honest about your limits. Guiding others is beautiful work, and it is serious work. May we carry it with humility. May we leave people more sovereign than we found them. And may our footprints mark a path that feels safe for those who follow.

Women’s Spiritual Leadership Ethics

I said earlier that we’re not looking to re-form the traditional male model of spiritual leadership. I meant it. We’re not holding ourselves to those standards.

We’re doing better. That means community first. It means clarity, transparency, accountability. Being able to look at ourselves in the mirror. Being aware when the Overton window is shifting – and correcting it when necessary.

This is about being the leaders we needed earlier in our lives, and developing into the leaders we’re going to need going forward. Doing the work, bit by bit.

Visibility in Spiritual Leadership

Last week, I wrote about spiritual leadership in the modern world: the responsibilities, the boundaries, the need to hold knowledge with care. But there’s another piece to this that deserves its own space: what happens when people begin to see you as a spiritual leader, whether you intended it or not. When you become visible.

Visibility is one of those things that arrives quietly. You don’t have to declare yourself anything. You don’t need a title or a platform. Sometimes visibility begins the first time someone asks you for guidance, or when people start coming to you with their questions, their fears, or their excitement about the path. With one conversation, one ritual, one piece of advice — suddenly you’re “someone who knows things.” And from that moment on, your path looks different.

And while visibility can be a blessing, it isn’t always comfortable.

An orange background with a black figure in the middle with a yellowish 5 pointed star in the middle with rays of yellow coming from behind. Written above the figure is "The Burdena nd Blessing of Being Seen: Visibility in Spiritual Leadership"

Being Seen Isn’t Simple

People often imagine visibility in a spiritual context as something warm and affirming. A sign that your work is valued. And sometimes it is. But it can also come with scrutiny you never asked for. People will make assumptions about who you are, what you believe, what you represent, and what you should be doing. You might find yourself carrying the weight of expectations you didn’t sign up for, simply because others have formed an idea of you that doesn’t match the full reality.

The strange thing about visibility is that people often see the version of you they need in that moment. Sometimes that’s comforting; sometimes it’s overwhelming. But rarely is it neutral.

When People Try to Claim You

Once you’re visible, even in a small way, people can begin to form attachment: some healthy, some less so. Someone might decide they’re your closest student despite you never agreeing to teach. Someone else may expect constant access to your time or energy because you answered a single question online. Others may subtly pressure you to take them under your wing, guide them personally, or carry emotional weight that isn’t yours to hold.

Most of the time, it isn’t malicious. It’s simply human longing. But longing can become entitlement, and entitlement can become a problem. Part of spiritual leadership is remembering that you belong to yourself first. Your practice, your time, your energy… These are not communal property just because you’ve been helpful or visible.

You Become a Mirror

Here’s the unexpected part: visibility means becoming a mirror for other people. Their reactions often have very little to do with you and far more to do with their own wounds, hopes, insecurities, or unresolved stories.

Some people will admire you instantly because you embody something they want for themselves. Others may feel defensive because you remind them of something they’re avoiding. And some will project every authority figure they have ever struggled with onto you, without realising they’re doing it.

This isn’t a sign that you’re doing anything wrong. It’s simply part of the terrain. And knowing that can make the road much gentler.

Why Grounding Matters More Than Ever

Visibility requires a certain steadiness. You need the ability not to inflate when someone praises you, and not to crumble when someone criticises or misunderstands you. Emotional grounding becomes the anchor that keeps you from drifting into ego or collapse. It’s what helps you sift through the feedback and recognise which parts are projections and which parts offer something genuinely useful.

Without grounding, visibility can swallow you whole. With grounding, it becomes something you can carry with dignity and clarity.

The Beautiful Better Side of Visibility

I just couldn’t with the “beautiful”. It’s not in me. Because this is work. But still…

It’s not all hard edges. Visibility also brings moments of great beauty. Someone might share how your words helped them through a difficult time. Someone else may feel less alone because you voiced something they’ve always felt but never had language for. You might find yourself connecting with people who share your values, your devotion, or your connection to the land and the divine.

Those moments make the weight worth it. They remind you that visibility isn’t just burden, it can also be a blessing, a thread connecting you to others in ways you might never have expected.

You Don’t Need to Be Perfect

One of the biggest myths about spiritual leadership is that you must be flawless: endlessly wise, endlessly calm, endlessly sure. But that’s not how humans work, and it’s certainly not how spiritual paths work.

You don’t need perfection. What you need is honesty. Honesty about your limits. Honesty about what you’re still learning. Honesty about your boundaries, your energy, and the fact that you’re as human as anyone else.

Invisibility hides our imperfections. Visibility simply makes them easier to see, and easier to accept, if we let it.

Staying Whole While Being Seen

If last week’s piece was about the responsibilities of spiritual leadership, this one is about what happens inside you when people begin to look to you for guidance. To lead sustainably, you need to stay whole. Staying whole means not letting projections reshape you. It means returning to your own practices, your own gods, your own grounding, again and again.

Being seen is part of the work. Sometimes the hardest part.

But staying yourself, even while being seen?

That’s the heart of spiritual leadership.

Spiritual Leadership

I’ve been on threads a lot over the last few weeks. Yes, it’s still Meta, but it’s better than X. (In my opinion, obvs!)

And yes, I have written about this before. But there’s a different slant on it this time. Because, sometimes, in warning people about potential dangers, concerns or potholes on their path, we’re denounced with “gatekeeping”, “blocking”, or “hiding information”. In my opinion, yes, there are folk who gatekeep knowledge. Usually with good reason. But I want to talk about some of the responsibilities inherent in being a spiritual leader in the modern world.

Spiritual leadership isn't just pretty pictures. Although this one is lovely. A figure standing in a valley, with a multicoloured night sky above them, going from orange on the left, pink in the middle and blue on the right.

What Spiritual Leadership Actually Means Today

At its core, spiritual leadership isn’t about titles or followers but about service, presence, and accountability. It means showing up with integrity, Listening more than you speak. Possibly most importantly, acknowledging the limits of your own knowledge.

In older Irish traditions, leaders weren’t chosen because they demanded authority – they were recognised because they lived in a way the community trusted. The bean feasa rarely if ever chose their own title.

The same remains true now: leadership is earned through action, not assumed through aesthetics or self-branding. As in, judge the leader by their actions, not their words.

And remember, it’s easy to show a persona on social media. It’s not so easy to get your hands dirty in the real world.

The Responsibilities of Holding Knowledge

One of the deepest responsibilities in spiritual leadership is knowing when knowledge should be shared. And when it requires grounding, maturity, or support. Some practices stir unresolved trauma; others raise energy people aren’t ready to channel; others belong to lineages or traditions that require preparation. Sharing everything instantly, without context, isn’t generosity. It’s carelessness. Responsible leaders offer information at the right time, in the right setting, with the right structure.

This is particularly true with closed practices. Practitioners have the right to maintain control over traditional practices. Not to mention – point on when someone isn’t following traditional ways. I see a lot of people, every single fucking year saying Brigid is so gentle, and calm, and quiet. This is not held true by either saint or deity original texts. At all. And so, I challenge it.

And I’m usually challenged saying I don’t know what I’m talking about.

The thing is, I do know what I’m talking about on this. While Brigid can be extremely calm and supportive, she is the transformative fire. The healing ocean.

She’s not a delicate flower.

When Warnings Get Misinterpreted

Part of modern spiritual leadership is accepting that sometimes people will misunderstand you. When you say “not yet,” some will hear “never.” When you explain the need for foundation, some will accuse you of controlling the path. This is less about your intent, and more about the listener’s insecurities, expectations, or impatience. Digital platforms reward speed over depth, certainty over nuance. And warnings rarely survive that environment intact.

Everyone wants to know everything now, all at once. And some see this caution to wait, to learn, as blocking and gatekeeping. No more than a 4-yr old playing with fire, there are some things spiritually that will burn you. And frankly, a sensible leader will point this out.

Not every learner wants to listen, and that then causes more work for the spiritual leader. Usually cleaning up the mess.

Think I’m joking? I’m really not. If you’re not capable of cleaning up your own mess, someone else has to. And while that’s acceptable for a 4-yr old, it’s not for an adult.

Why Not Everything Should Be Freely Distributed

Every tradition includes knowledge that must be handled with care, and spiritual leadership means understanding that not all information belongs on the open internet. Some practices require initiation; some require safety structures; some require a relationship with land, deity, or community. Sharing everything freely isn’t transparency. It’s removing the protective container that allows deep work to unfold safely.

I’m asked sometimes why some courses and workshops are so tightly controlled in numbers. It’s so I can take care of the people involved and I won’t get overwhelmed by the number of things happening at once. I know my limits when it comes to virtual and in-person energy management. And to be honest, the virtual stuff is harder for me to manage. It’s much easier for me to manage energy in person.

I hold virtual events to be more accessible. But they take more out of me, they cost me more in time, energy, etc and therefore they will be charged at a higher cost.

I won’t extend myself beyond what I’m capable of. And I won’t deliver information or teachings that I’m not comfortable delivering.

Boundaries as Sacred Responsibility

This is a bit of a continuation. Healthy boundaries are essential to sustainable spiritual leadership, even if they disappoint people. Leaders cannot be endlessly available, constantly accessible, or permanently open. Boundaries ensure that the leader’s own energy, wellbeing, and practice remain intact. They ensure that the community receives considered, grounded guidance rather than exhaustion-frayed scraps of attention. A leader with no boundaries can’t lead for long.

Being blunt about it, a leader with no boundaries will burn themselves out. Usually, quickly. That’s whether being physically available for consults, or spiritually available for teaching. Some teaching requires a lot more energy form the teacher, and the student should be grateful when a teacher realises they should wait before teaching it. It’s safety, it’s consideration, it’s common sense.

Leadership Without Ego

Ego has no place in genuine spiritual leadership. True leaders make space, not empires. They guide without demanding devotion. They stay rooted in humility, continuing to learn, listen, evolve, and question. And they don’t seek to create dependency but to foster sovereignty. The role isn’t about being elevated above others; it’s about being in right relationship with the work, the community, the land, and the divine.

Now look, we’re all human. We all have egos. That’s not what I’m talking about. But a spiritual leader should be able to put that ego aside and do what’s best for the community. And sometimes, that means taking a step back and letting someone else lead. Or even, taking a step back and letting someone continue on their path without the leader.

Sometimes, it means letting a student make a small mistake now, to prevent a larger mistake later.

And sometimes, it means realising we’re not the right person to help this student and leaving them go.

A Call to Discernment

As you navigate your own path, consider what spiritual leadership looks like in practice. Not the titles or branding, but the behaviour. Look for people who share responsibly, who act with integrity, and who don’t flinch from offering uncomfortable truth when needed. And if you’re stepping into leadership yourself, remember that your words carry weight. Your guidance matters. Your boundaries matter. And your discernment, more than anything, shapes the path you help build.

Brigid myths

A picture of the mural in Drogheda, with one half showing a green cloaked nun and the other a red haired goddess. Brigid myths might have you believing one or the other, but really - at this point - there's no concrete evidence.
The mural by Belfast-based artist Friz in Drogheda, celebrating both saint and goddess

It was Imbolc this weekend past (well depending on when you celebrate it) and wow, were the Brigid Myths flying. So, I thought I’d settle a few bits and bobs here. And, as always with Brigid, there’s a lot of fuzziness and liminality at play.

Brigid Myth 1: She’s only a goddess that the Christians stole

I’m gonna be honest here, I struggle with this one. Because stealing old celebrations and overplanting them with new Christian ones was a definite feature of the early Church. Just check out Gregory the Great. As far as the thinking went, it made it easier for people to convert if they didn’t have to change where they worshipped and if there was a fine building there anyway, why bother knocking it down and rebuilding. The early Church was a great proponent of the re-use/ re-cycle methodology of spreading the faith.

In his more recent episode, Finn Dwyer of the Irish History podcast explored the possibility that St. Brigid was a real woman, as opposed to a mythical figure. I’ll leave his episode below for you to find out his final conclusion.

Brigid Myth 2: She’s only a saint that the neopagans stole

I mean, ok, there’s a bit more evidence for this thought process. There are, after all, only 4 bits of pre-Christian lore (all recorded well after Christianity came to these isles) on Brigid the goddess. (You can check out my very brief intro to these four bits of lore, for free, here)

We have, in fact, far more writings about the saint than we do the goddess. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t exist. There are suggestions that it is possible Brigid was brought to the shores of Ireland by… of all things… a group of Brigantes in north-east England. (Well, modern day north-east England. I don’t think England existed at the time as an entity)

I know it seems terrible, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and occasionally, something good comes out of England. (My husband would be another example…)

Brigid Myth 3: She’s meek and loving and mild

Sweet holy fuck no. Look I’m sorry. But the swearing is necessary. There’s a reason I called this place the Forge and not the Soft, Cushy, Temperate Place.

Brigid is hot. Fiery. Have a temper. Even in the hagiographies of the saints they couldn’t hide this. This has to be one of the worst Brigid myths out there. And it’s lulling people into a false sense of security. No. Just fucking no.

I mean she can be. But it’s more in the way of a tough doctor who has been through some shit and can be soft when they make a big effort and someone really, really needs it. Just stop with this one.

Brigid Myth 4: Goddess of hearth and home

Look, I get it. It’s an off shoot of the “meek and mild” bollox. It’s not true. We don’t have anything linking her to hearth and home.

As a goddess, she is a Poet (Old Irish sense of lawyer, creative writer, academic), Smith, and Healer. Gonna be honest – all of these have until the very recent past been male dominated professions. Yes there is a sense she may have been a woman-physician, as a physician that caters to women. But it’s still a tough gig. And none of the above professions lend themselves to a domestic goddess. (Pun not really intended there)

I get the idea of being linked to fire. I get it. But it’s not in the lore.

I don’t know where in the name of Jesus this came from. We have no real links between Brigid and bread. Dairy – butter in particular – oh yes. Oodles of links in fact. Domesticated animals? Absolutely, goddess and saint.

But bread???

Not really.

If you want to bake bread as part of your Imbolc celebrations, more power to you. The Irish consider bread an essential utensil in the whole “moving the butter to the mouth” process. There’s nothing better than a loaf fresh from the oven, dripping in fresh butter.

But there’s nothing linking Brigid to bread directly.

Brigid Myth 6: There’s no need to pronounce the B in Imbolc

Ok, not technically a Brigid myth as such. But definitely linked to my rising blood pressure this weekend. For this one, I even did an insta video on the topic.

(And if you’re not following me over on Instagram, sure you can drop that at the same time)

But there is most definitely a B to be pronounced in Imbolc. It is not “Immolc”.

Brigid Myth 7: There is One True Day to celebrate Imbolc.

Again, this is more Imbolc than Brigid, but sure, feck it, the two are intertwined in modern times.

There are a number of says and times to celebrate Imbolc. I most often celebrate on 31st January. Because it’s the eve of St. Brigid’s Day (1st February). Other people choose “astrological Imbolc”, the midpoint between solstice and equinox (this year, that’s today, 3rd Feb). Still others link their festivities to Candlemas, 2nd Feb.

And, if I’m being really honest, since Ireland recently got a bank holiday for the occasion, if there’s a big ritual or group event I’m doing, it’s going to be on that bank holiday weekend.

While in the modern world, we like to think of dates being right, correct and accurate, it’s not always the case. I know people who celebrate Samhain from dark moon to dark moon, since they view it as a season, not a single night. I kinda do the same with Imbolc, but it’s most of January and some of February.

Most of the traditions in Ireland happen around the 31st January. Check out Duchas for more on that. But remember, your spiritual path has to fit your life. What you do in private is up to you and no one else.

Don’t be calling things traditional that aren’t though.

Finally…

We had all the usual shite about Brigid being associated with this crystal and that colour. We had the arguments over 3-pronged vs 4-pronged cross. All the usual stuff. I’ve given up engaging with it at this point. Although I will be trying to do a video showing how I do the 3-pronged cross. Cos, yeah – it’s the 3rd February and I’ve not made my crosses yet this year!

I hope this helps. Please share it where you think it might do some good!

Listening to ourselves

I struggling with listening to my body. And I think this is something we all struggle with: listening to ourselves. Even when we desperately need rest!

Last week started by me being attacked by the shed in our garden. (Pic of similar shed below for entertainment purposes) I came into work and said the shed had jumped out at me and hit the car.

Everyone knew what I meant. Everyone realised I didn’t actually believe the shed had jumped at me. If ever a shed existed that is unlikely to jump anywhere, it’s the stereotypical Irish stone shed.

I'm fairly certain we could learn from this shed about listening to ourselves. It's a stone built Irish shed, with corrugated roof and one slit window, one slightly square window, grass in the foreground. It's doing nothing but what it's built to do!
Very typical construction here

What was going on?

Apparently, either an ear infection, a sinus infection or a wonderful mixture of both. On finally heading to the doctor later, he decided the nuclear option was best and put me on antibiotics. And painkilling cream in case it was my jaw.

Why am I bothering telling you this?

Because I didn’t back into the shed, ahem, I mean, the shed didn’t attack me, completely unprovoked, because I was on top of my game. I was dizzy, tired, sick, and probably, in hindsight, shouldn’t have been driving.

Small details.

The key thing is, I’d been fighting something off for weeks. It wasn’t quite bad enough to take time off work, or, horror of horrors, actually go see the doctor. But it was bad enough to make my life miserable. If I’d been better versed in listening to myself, I might have picked up on just how bad I’d felt sooner.

But I didn’t. Because I have been well schooled in the art of not “listening to ourselves”.

Listening to ourselves in a world which doesn’t want us to

Y’see, if I had listened to myself, I might have realised that this thing wasn’t going away. It had been operating in my system and my system was kinda containing it, but not really defeating it.

And a cold/flu/ear infection/ sinus infection thing that’s lasting for a month? Probably needs something more than Vick’s Vaporub to fix it.

I had work to get through.

I’m working (slowly) on a part time doctorate.

Running Brigid’s Forge and EngineerHer.

Managing home, school and work.

There’s a lot on. And I’m not saying this, because I think I’ve got it worse than anyone else. We’ve all got a lot on.

The modern world is not made for simplicity.

And that’s all before you take into account the shitshow that’s currently going down in numerous places across the world… (but, y’know, hard side-eye towards the US here)

It’s easier for the world at large if we don’t listen to ourselves. It’s easier for our families, our workplaces, everyone, if we just keep on keeping on.

And there’s times we have to do that New baby, audit in work, major project… whatever it is, there are times we actually do have to keep on keeping on. But not always.

And we fall into the trap. We cope, because we see no other way.

Listening to ourselves leads to failure, or dropping the ball on something.

Hard lessons

One of the strongest lessons I learned earlier in my career was when I was off work, sick, for 3 months. I came back and checked in with my boss on all the things that were deemed so important, so vital to the running of the business.

90% of them hadn’t been kept up while I was away. So, I took a radical step. I stopped doing them.

If they weren’t important enough for someone else to pick up, then why was I wasting my time? I immediately freed up almost 20hours a week.

HALF MY WORKING WEEK.

I had been running myself ragged working on reports, presentations, information… that nobody really needed.

I had most definitely not been listening to myself.

Now, mind you, I’m a slow learner. That wasn’t the first, or indeed, the last time I work myself sick. Last week was a minor example of it.

But we have to ask ourselves: when we don’t listen to ourselves, what good are we to our people?

Whether our people are family, friends, colleagues, dependents, whatever – what good are we?

That old thing about no one praising someone at their funeral for spending all that time in the office?

The Act of Radical Listening to Ourselves

I read Louis Hay‘s work on racial self care years ago. It’s a bit dated now, but there is some good stuff in there. First and foremost, she advocates listening to ourselves. Our bodies. Our souls.

And taking the time to rest and allow these messages to come through.

In a world where the powers that be appear to want us chaotic and confused, resting and knowing ourselves (those of us with the privilege to do so, of course) is radical.

It’s an expression of intent.

Or an invitation for care.

Rest.

Absorption and integration.

(And while we’re on the topic – yes, you can grab a limited spot on the upcoming Imbolc retreat to do just this, if you wish)

But in the meantime, think about how you can build in listening to yourself as a continual thing. How do you build in rest when it’s needed? How do you recognise you need rest? (Highly recommend not backing into the shed as a wake up call. Seriously!)

Is it meditation? Time away from everyone? Regular catch ups with close friends? How do you best build in that time?

Drop me a line and let me know!

Rest

Rest is a common enough theme for me at this time of year. This year though, I’m feeling a pull towards more. More rest? Certainly. But a different kind.

Even the weather agrees. Yesterday, it lashed down all day. Ag stealladh báistí you might say.

Today? Well look below.

Even the weather is encouraging rest! A picture of my garden, surrounded by fog. Trees are vague shapes in the background, the sky is various shades of grey, but at least the grass is green!
Yes this is what I woke up to this morning. Well this is a couple of hours after I woke up cos a pic at 7am would just show black…

It’s not that I was planning on a massively active day today, or anything. But when the weather agrees with my own inner feelings, my gut… sometimes it’s ok to listen.

Privilege

Yes, it is most certainly a privilege to talk about rest right now.

Iran. Ukraine. Yemen. Gaza. Sudan. And so many others. (Yes that line is copied directly from my threads post yesterday!)

The people in those places, and many places in the US, I’m not forgetting ye, can’t afford to rest right now. They have a fight to wage. And they’ve been waging it – for years in some cases.

So, when I say I’m recognising my privilege, I mean it.

When I’m talking about rest for me right now, I’m talking about the space before stepping back in. The stillness in allowing flow, rather than forcing issues.

I’m thinking about space that comes before the action.

So what rest do I mean?

The earth is still resting for the year. Oh, we can see the signs of growth, the small green shoots coming up, the signs of life returning after the stillness of the winter.

(Although “stillness of winter” isn’t too accurate in Ireland!!)

And if, like me, you have been resting over the winter and are now looking to do something, you might be thinking “more rest????”

Fair. But listen to me a while.

For those of us not currently in an active war zone (ahem… “active” and “warzone” are open to interpretation here, side eyes to a certain Turtle Island government) we can take time, regroup, and then be ready to step in.

It might not be an option for you in your whole life, but maybe there are parts of your life that you can use this time for rest. Maybe you need to think about areas where it’s just not the time to be pushing right now.

There are areas of my life where pushing, chasing, forcing issues – it’s just not the right time.

It’s still time for planning, preparing the ground, resting.

Examples?

I want several things to happen this year in work. But now isn’t the time to chase them.

  • a promotion for a team member
  • knowing what my bonus and merit increase is
  • what are the plans for the business in the coming 2-3 years

I already have an idea about timelines for all of these and while I might want to know, right now, right this second, there’s no point in forcing this issue.

But areas I can move forward on:

  • my personal activities in work
  • gathering evidence to support my promotion activities
  • taking the next logical steps for the current ways the business is going

It’s amazing how, no matter how many different businesses I work in, I see the same patterns for the year…

It works in my personal life as well. I can’t force us buying a house. But I can make the daily steps that will lead to that at some point in the future.

I can take a rest from relentlessly pushing forward on my spiritual path, but still take the time to assimilate and bed in the learnings and changes so far.

It’s ok for an activity or a time to not look productive.

Rest as an act of rebellion

Again – this is privilege.

But rest, time spend not being productive can be an act of rebellion in a world that demands productivity at all times.

Time spent assimilating and re-grouping before the next round of activity is not laziness, not evil. It’s essential.

And it’s a lot easier for the various “bodies” (government, societal, religious, political, etc) to control us when we don’t give ourselves time.

Our minds and bodies need time to rest. Need time to not be productive. Not be a willing cog in the machine.

As women, we carry a lot. (It’s multiplied by Black women, women under oppression, women in war zones… intersectionality, remember???) And sometimes, even a single deep breath can feel like an immense act.

I get it.

But think about where in your life you can rest right now. Where do you need time for assimilation?

What is it ok to stop pushing?

And simply… rest.

Ascending to Imbolc

Ascending to Imbolc and lighting candles all round us! A female looking hand holds a small thin lit candle against a background of more candles.
Your Imbolc prep requires candles, right?

I’ve written before around preparing for Imbolc. I mean, I generally write a few times a year on the topic. But this year, I want to discuss ascending to Imbolc. Because, I want to change the focus a little bit.

I want to talk about coming up out of winter and into Spring.

Out of darkness, into the light.

Away from dreams and into action.

Do you get the feeling I’m projecting? The energy of the earth is starting to wake up again. The plants have already started growing again here in Ireland. No, seriously.

Climate change is real.

Ascending to Imbolc

But what do I mean by ascending to Imbolc?

Just that, really. The movement from dreaming to doing. The change in energy of the earth. Part of the year when we start thinking about “new year, new you” rubbish.

A picture of some green snowdrops with white petals showing against brown twigs and brown earth.
Snowdrops, in Dublin on St. Stephen’s Day

It won’t be long before we’ll be proclaiming the “grand stretch in the evenings”.

And, yes, I know, half of ye, at least, are still in a stupor of Christmas turkey and ham, boxes of sweets, mince pies, etc. But that’s half the reason that Imbolc feels like an ascent rather than a descent.

The energy is low at this time of the year. We’ve just passed midwinter, the Solstice, when the sun is at its weakest (in the Northern Hemisphere – of you’re in Australia, New Zealand, Oceania, etc – come back to this post round the end of June, ok?)

But now?

Now the energy’s rising! (From about 25 seconds in anyway)

We’re moving upward. Out of the winter blankies. Out of the earth. Into the sun. Ascending to Imbolc.

Practically speaking?

Well, it’s the perfect time to start thinking about developing that daily spiritual relationship with Brigid. Or thinking about developing your own spiritual path. But aside from that.

Ascending to Imbolc can mean putting in the last preparations for the festival. Cleaning the house, clearing out the energy after being stuck in winter. Shaking out the cobwebs – figuratively and literally. Read something challenging – either because of literacy level or challenging ideas.

Start gathering what supplies you need, or planning when your ritual will take place. Or start planning to do nothing at all, and how does that look?

Look for the signs – things like those snowdrops. Or the grass growing. Maybe buds on trees, or even leaves.

Recognise the world around you is ascending as well. The development and growth during winter is usually underground – seeds and plants hibernating in a way. And we do it as well. Get through to the end of the year.

But now? Now it’s clear decision time. Where is your energy going to go come spring? When we ascend into Imbolc, when we climb the metaphorical ladder to return to the light, what are we returning to?

The world as it was?

Or are we choosing to change?

Maybe it’s too early yet

Maybe it’s a bit early yet to plan out the year all in one go.

But if you have the chance – make some decisions now. Write them down. Get organised to put them into place.

Then once we’ve ascended into Imbolc – it’s all go, no holds barred, let’s do this thing!!