Tag: imbolc

Six Months from Imbolc: What the Opposite Side of the Wheel Teaches Us

Imbolc and Lúnasa sit directly opposite each other on the wheel of the year. Six months apart, as far from each other as it is possible to be.

If Brigid is your primary deity – as she is mine – that means that right now, in late June and into July, you are at the furthest possible point from her festival. Imbolc is behind you. It won’t come around again until February. And Lúnasa, which belongs to a different set of figures entirely, is approaching fast.

This is not a problem. But it is worth paying attention to.

A picture of daffodils in my driveway
Yes I know, daffodils aren’t July flowers – it’s the only pic of flowers I have! lol

What the opposite point on the wheel actually means

The wheel of the year (as much as I dislike the term, it is commonly used…) is not just a calendar. It’s a map of energies, of what the land is doing, of what our ancestors understood about the rhythm of the year. And every festival has its opposite – a point of tension and balance, six months away, that helps define it.

Imbolc is about beginnings. The first light after the dark. The earliest stirring of spring. Brigid’s flame lit against the cold. It’s tender, hopeful, and small – a green shoot, not a full harvest.

Lúnasa is its opposite in almost every way. It’s the height of summer, the beginning of harvest, the moment of abundance before the slow turn toward darkness begins. Where Imbolc is about potential, Lúnasa is about what has actually grown. Where Imbolc is Brigid’s, Lúnasa belongs to Tailtiu, to the old gods, to something that predates even the Tuatha Dé Danann in the layers of Irish tradition.

Understanding that opposite point doesn’t diminish your relationship with Brigid. It deepens it. Because you can’t fully understand a festival without understanding what sits across from it on the wheel.

What sent me looking at this time of year

I started exploring the Lúnasa figures – Tailtiu, Crom Dubh, Crom Cruach – because I wanted to know what my ancestors were actually doing at this point in the year. Not what the books said in general terms, but what people in Ireland were specifically doing, in specific places, in specific ways.

I found my way to Duchas.ie – the Irish Folklore Collection, which is one of the most extraordinary resources available to anyone interested in Irish folk tradition. And what I found there stopped me in my tracks.

Garland Sunday. Also known as Reek Sunday. The last Sunday of July, celebrated in two main ways across Ireland: the strewing of flowers, and the climbing of mountains. Both traditions appear in community after community across the folklore records, often with details that suggest something far older than Christianity underneath them. Far older, in some cases, than the Tuatha Dé Danann themselves.

The flower strewing connects to the idea of honouring the earth at its most abundant. The mountain climbing – most famously on Croagh Patrick in Mayo, but not exclusively – connects to a landscape-based devotion that predates any of the named deities we know. These are the traces of your ancestors’ practice. They’re worth following.

Brigid at this time of year

Brigid doesn’t have a specific role in Lúnasa – and I want to be honest about that rather than force a connection that isn’t there in the lore. She and Lúnasa belong to different layers of the tradition, and that’s fine. Not every deity needs to be present at every festival.

What she does offer at this time of year is continuity. The relationship you’ve built with her doesn’t go dormant because her festival has passed. She’s still there. The water aspect is still available to you. The forge still burns.

But Lúnasa invites you to expand your attention. To begin to know the other figures who belong to this season, to ask what your ancestors were doing in late July, and to let the wheel of the year be a genuine guide rather than something that only matters at Imbolc and Samhain.

What’s coming

Over the next few weeks I’ll be writing about the three figures most associated with Lúnasa in the Irish tradition – Tailtiu, Crom Dubh, and Crom Cruach. Each of them has a course at Brigid’s Forge School for those who want to go deeper into the lore. And each of them has something genuinely interesting to say about what this time of year meant to the people who lived here before us.

If you want to mark Garland Sunday this year, you don’t need to climb a mountain. Put flowers in the house. Go outside if you can. Remember that the last Sunday of July has been considered significant in Ireland for longer than anyone can fully trace – and that your ancestors were part of that.

That’s enough. It’s more than enough.

Have you ever marked Garland Sunday or Reek Sunday? Or discovered something in the folklore records that surprised you? Drop it in the comments – I’d love to know what you’ve found.

Brigid Beyond Imbolc: How to Connect With Her in Summer

Brigid in summer can feel like a contradiction. She is so strongly associated with Imbolc – with February 1st, with the first stirring of spring, with candles lit against the dark – that when the long days arrive and Imbolc feels months away in either direction, it’s easy to find yourself coasting.

I know this because I do it every year. April hits and my spiritual practice goes a bit quiet. I’m not abandoning anything, I’m just… less active about it. Less intentional. And then, at some point in early summer, something shifts.

The pull of the sea

It starts with an urge I’ve learned to pay attention to. I need to get to the coast.

Brigid in summer leads us to the sea - well she leads me there a lot! But this image of Tramore on a sunny summer's day shows why - the crowds, the balmy water, the blue sky - and it's almost on my doorstep!
The Irish seaside on a summer’s day

Not for a holiday. Not for a swim, necessarily, although if the weather is right I’ll take that too. Just to be near the water. To walk to the edge of it and let the sea do what the sea does. Wash my feet. Splash my face. Stand in the cold shallows and feel something settle that had been restless.

This year, with Ireland hitting 30 degrees – yes, you read that correctly, 30 degrees in Ireland – the urge arrived with extra urgency. And it delivered, as it always does.

What I’ve come to understand is that this is Brigid. Not Brigid of the forge and the flame, but Brigid of the wells, the rivers, the healing waters. The side of her that works slowly, patiently, wearing away at whatever needs to shift until it fits the shape she’s looking for.

Why fire doesn’t always suit summer

Brigid’s association with fire and water is something I’ve written about before. Fire transforms fast – it’s urgent, total, immediate. Water transforms slowly. It supports, encourages, and gradually reshapes. Both are Brigid. Both are useful. But they suit different moments.

In summer, particularly for those of us with more natural energy in the warmer months, the fire aspect can tip into overwhelm. There’s already heat, already momentum, already a lot happening. Adding more fire to that can be too much.

Water, on the other hand, meets you in the heat. It cools. Soothes. It holds you while it works. And Brigid’s water aspect is, in my experience, just as transformative as her fire – it just takes longer, and it tends to be gentler about it.

A note for those in wildfire regions

If you’re reading this from Australia, California, southern Europe, or anywhere that summer brings the threat of wildfire rather than an invitation to swim – I’d suggest working primarily with Brigid’s water aspect this time of year rather than her fire. Light candles carefully and with awareness. But let the wells, the rivers, the rain, and the sea be your primary points of connection with her until the season turns.

Brigid and the sea have a long relationship, and it doesn’t require living in Ireland to access it. Water is water. She finds you wherever it is.

What summer practice with Brigid can look like

You don’t need to overhaul anything. Small, consistent contact with the water aspect is enough. Some possibilities:

Seek out natural water where you can – the sea, a river, a lake, a well. St Brigid’s Well in Liscannor is one of the most significant, but every county in Ireland has its own, and if you’re not in Ireland, look for what’s local to you.

Bring intention to water in your daily life. The shower you take in the morning. The glass of water before you begin work. These aren’t just practical acts – they can be devotional ones, if you choose to treat them that way.

Let the season inform your pace. Summer is a good time for healing work, for the slower processes, for allowing things to be gently worn into a better shape rather than burned through quickly.

And if you feel that pull toward the coast – go. Trust it. In my experience, it’s rarely just a desire for a nice afternoon out.

Going deeper with Brigid

If the summer feels like a good time to learn more about her – who she actually is in the old texts, how she appears across Irish mythology, what the sources tell us that devotional practice alone can’t – the courses at Brigid’s Forge School are a good place to start.

The St Brigid of Ireland course (€37) is the accessible entry point, covering her historical and hagiographical legacy. And over the next couple of weeks I’ll be writing more about the lore courses specifically – the texts that mention her, what they say, and why it matters.

Have you felt that seasonal shift in your practice? Drop a comment below – I’d love to know how summer sits with you and Brigid.

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!!

Preparing for Imbolc

I know, it’s not even Samhain yet, and I’m already speaking about preparing for Imbolc.

But there’s a reason for it. Namely, I start preparing for Imbolc around the time of Samhain. In the same way I start preparing for Samhain around the time of Lúnasa. But for Imbolc, I take some of ye along with me on the journey.

Lighting candles is an essential part of my preparation for Imbolc, especially electric ones! Picture of an electric candle, shining in the dark
Let’s be serious, ye already knew lighting candles was ging to be a part of this!

And it’s no joke to say that I start writing about this nearly every year at this time…

What takes so long, FFS?

Well yeah, ok here’s the thing. I prepare for Imbolc over three months, because I considering the time between Samhain and Imbolc to be my dreaming period. My planning period. I’ve taken stock of where I am and what I’ve achieved between Lúnasa and Samhain. So, Samhain to Imbolc is the heavy work.

I prepare for Imbolc in the physical, emotional and spiritual realms.

And I allocate about a month for each in my preparation cycle. Imbolc isn’t just an event to me, it’s a season. And as such, I use it as part of my seasonal work. I mean, I go through a cycle of physical, emotional and spiritual work in all seasons, but for Imbolc it’s extra special preparation.

And yeah, that’s cos of the links with Brigid. Definitely.

But it’s also because I consider the work done between Samhain and Imbolc as the most important in the year. It’s how I set up my year, plan my year, engage with my audience to find out what’s needed and what isn’t for the coming year.

It’s my time for reflection, review, engagement… all of that good stuff.

And it takes time.

Preparing for Imbolc is a whole-person approach for me. And it’s different every year. There are some basics that stay the same, and I’ll talk about them down below, but the specifics change, over and over again.

Physically preparing for Imbolc

OK, a lot of this is cleaning. Seriously.

Thankfully Christmas happens between Samhain and Imbolc, otherwise, I’d never get things as clean as I want for the season. But there is a feeling or a need to clear our the house come spring. Which as we know, starts to show it’s face around Imbolc. It’s not the height of spring – I’d label that as the equinox. But still…

And particularly with Imbolc, after the winter season of closing doors and windows, there’s a great need to let the fresh air. To clear out the corners. Get the energy moving again.

(This is northern hemisphere based and four-seasons based of course. If you’re in a different season rotation – you may need to adjust!)

But preparing for Imbolc by getting things going again really feels apt for the season in Ireland and the stage of the year. And a good scrubbing of the house really helps get the energy moving again. As does a clean breeze coming through.

Now, of course, you may get complaints from certain inhabitants about the cold, etc. But I dare anyone not to enjoy the feeling of a truly clean, fresh house.

And it gives us a clean slate to start the rest of the year with. Which feeds into…

Emotionally preparing for Imbolc

Now, I’m the last to tell anyone how they might feel or how their emotions might affect them. But I know for me and mine, the dark winter months are touch, emotionally speaking. I tend to leave the house in the dark and get back to work in the dark.

In fact this started last week – admittedly, I was in work for 7am, but still. There is a definitely shortening of both morning and evening light. And this has an effect on our mood. Even the HSE, our health and safety people, recommend everyone in the country should take a vitamin D supplement.

Image reads: How much vitamin D you need Everyone in Ireland needs to take a vitamin D supplement. The amount you need depends on your age, skin tone, your situation and the time of year. If you have dark skin – for example you have an African, African-Caribbean or south Asian background – you may also not make enough vitamin D from sunlight. The amount of vitamin D you need is often described in micrograms.
Image taken from the HSE website

I mean, half the country is on anti-depressants, even with the gorgeous scenery. And that standing joke about God not letting it rain for 40 days and 40 nights anymore, but 40 days and 39 and a half nights is definitely within scope is accurate here.

How much does it rain?

As is our assessment of other climate’s rainy season. I remember being in Gambia years ago and being warned I was going during the rainy season. They got a mere 2 hours of rain every day and you could set your clock by it…

That was a gorgeous summer as far as I was concerned!

(Before anyone starts- I know monsoons and other dramatic rain are far worse than what we get. But for days of rain per year, we’re kinda up there. There’s a reason all the fields are green, ok?)

So, all in all, looking after our emotional health is important this time of year. It’s also why I consider the lighting of candles and fires to be an essential component of preparing for Imbolc. Not just about the connections of Brigid and fire. It’s about that deep seated emotional need we have for light at this dark time of the year.

Spiritually preparing for Imbolc

I mean, ye know this was coming, right? It’s not like I hide it.

And while the physical and emotional preparation are vitally important, the spiritual preparation for Imbolc is at the core of what the celebration means to me.

And the spiritual preparation can be deeply personal. For anyone! Of course there will be the public stuff. I am mostly likely to run a virtual retreat this year, again. There’s a good chance I’ll be sharing the public or public-friendly bits of my celebration on Instagram or in the Facebook group.

But there are always personal parts. I might share the fact that a spiritual shower or sacred cleanse is an important part of my celebration, but I don’t usually share the explicit details of it. I might share a pic of my brat Bhríde hanging from the door. It’s not so likely I’ll share the details of the prayers and blessings I add into my own private ritual.

There is always that dividing line for me between the publicly available stuff and the personal stuff. Whether that stuff is personal gnosis or just none of anyone else’s business doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that when I’m teaching, I give you the tools to develop your own practices. Because that’s where the value is. Not in copying what I do by rote.

Heads up

So this is a heads up. A heads up for both you and me.

We’ll be starting the course on 1st November. It ends up usually being about 5 classes over three months… I’m great at planning these things to be even and regular… not. So, there’s usually a gap over Christmas, but don’t worry. Sessions are recorded and usually available within a day or two.

But you don’t have to join the class if you don’t want to. (Although payment plan is available!)

If you are interested, check out the links and if you have any questions, email!

But don’t forget. This dark, quiet time of year is not for the faint of heart. And spring comes again quickly!