Quert – Apple. The gentle, graceful loving energy harvested at the last New Moon. Living with her since then she has challenged me, not quite settled with me. She is too gentle.
Brighid stepped in the other day. She too is love. Not always graceful – but she showed me love is strong. Love is not sentimental slosh. Love can be deeply fiery, as is her love. Not a love that pussy-foots around us, but a love which challenges, digs out new spaces for Her within.
Fire is also Light, blazing its way through our darkeness. As Brighid gives way to the Cailleach Her Light will still shine on through the winter.
The Cailleach has been calling me these past few days.
Her time is approaching. The Hag of the Hills, the Highlands.
She is a Dark Goddess, the one who rules the winter. We meet her at Samhain, not far away now.
She is the ruler of winter, and her sister Brighid the ruler of the lighter spring and summer days, yet they come to me as two faces of the One.
Brighis came to me first in a deeply personal way as the Scar-Faced One, showing me first Her ugly, scarred side before transforming into a light, beautiful faced Goddess. The Dark Scarred One, whether we call her Cailleach or Brighid, is not to be feared. She will lead us through the darkening days of autumn and on through winter, before showing us her Light in the spring.
May you know Her blessings through the dark days.
Today was the harvesting of Duir from my ogham stave, a couple of days late following the New Moon because of being away on a therapy course.
Duir, sacred to the druids, is a tree of immense strength. It is also a gateway tree, gateway to inner truth, inner knowledge. After attuning with the Celtic Reiki essence Schumann for rebalancing, I asked permission to harvest the essence of the Duir which gave my ogham being.
Immediately I sensed great heat from the ogham stave, and felt drawn to press it into my hara/dantien. It rested there for some time, a fire burning brightly but steadily.
Drawn into the fire, I passed through this oak fire and found myself at the sacred fire of Brighid – a warm welcome from Her, welcoming me home to Her. Resting a while, I sensed when it was time to leave. Her fire came back with me, a fire in my hara. Strength. Courage for the journey ahead.
Now I send this essence out to any who need. It is an essence of warm strength, of welcome from Brighid.
Yesterday I shared a powerful healing Sacred Meal with an Interfaith Minister friend of mine.
It was largely to share within ritual space some of my journey with emerging memories of MDSA as a child. To share healing. To place this trauma in the hands of the One who is my Source, the One to whom I will return, and the One who is my Light along the way.
We blessed each others bodies with salt water. Blessed my lovely Brighid statue, which I surrounded with my Northern Tamarisk beads and gems sacred to Brighid.
I shared my emerging memories in the form of a litany of grief: grief for the girl raped by her adoptive mother; grief for the girl who was made to experience oral sex at such a young age; grief for the girl who nearly died at her mothers hands; grief as well for a father unwittingly coerced into more covert sexual abuse.
These memories, written on a piece of paper, were placed along with my vows made into the hands of Brighid at Imbolc under her statue.
I am grateful for the sacred friendship offered. For a true Anam Cara. For the possibility of healing.
February 2nd is the anniversary of my first vows as a Carmelite nun back in 1990 and for the last few years I have marked this anniversary with my own, somewhat alternative, vows.
Holding my little Brighid statue today it was very simple:-
To honour myself as woman
To reclaim my body from my mother
To embrace my true sexuality as it emerges
Today this lovely statue arrived
Perfect timing for Imbolc.
May you know the warmth of Her blessing
Her Fire Inflame you
I call upon you
Invoke your Fire
Your scarred-faced wounding-love
I invoke you as midwife
May Christ-Light-Love be born in me
Through the pain of wounded innocence
Through the agony of the cross
May my inner redemption come