PaganSquare.com - WitchesAndPagans.com

It’s Imbolc again, or Groundhog Day, if you will. Thinking of the latter, I’m reminded of the clever Bill Murray movie. Also realizing that February itself can make one feel like they’re trapped in an endless time loop of drudgery–repeating the same thing day in and day out, ad nauseum. February might be the shortest month, but it can be a tough one to get through, especially if you don’t have anything to look forward to. Grey days with not enough sun, especially in the Midwest–we’ve all been there. I have things to look forward to this year, many in fact. I must remind myself of them repeatedly as I inch ever closer to spring and the best month ever, March. OK, it’s my Birthday month, but that’s beside the point. That’s when spring is officially sprung, and the real thaw and signs of life begin. Along with new hope, new beginnings, new ideas. All of which, I have a boatload of this year. I just have to be patient and see what takes hold and what falls away. I know intellectually that it’s a good practice to let go of things, materially and otherwise. It’s just the figuring out of when to wave the white flag officially, that perplexes me somewhat. I’m stubborn and a fighter, so sometimes “giving up” doesn’t come quite naturally to me. Perhaps some of you can relate?

 Imbolc Rituals

This Imbolc, perhaps we could all stand some extra moments of quiet reflection to truly meditate on what to let fall away from our lives. What no longer serves us, what doesn’t fit, what cherished piece of clothing has grown so many holes it needs to be repurposed as a cleaning rag. Just needed to interject a bit of levity there. I think that’s another thing to keep in mind this February, the longest and shortest month. Keep some laughter in your life. Don’t take things too seriously, and let stuff roll off your back whenever possible. They say it’s the best medicine, and they’re not wrong. Think of Bill Murray in that movie, when he learns to find joy and take delight in the simplest pleasures, where once he only found monotony and annoyance.

I've always thought a little introspection was good for the soul, and the sabbat, Imbolc, certainly lends itself to that. If creativity can play a part in your ritual, all the better. The last two seasons of my monthly personal podcast, "Women Who Howl at the Moon," I've turned the recording device on myself. I make a point to ask aloud some challenging questions and try to be honest and open with my spontaneous answers. In a way, it's not all that different than when I used to employ my favorite toy growing up, a tape recorder. I'd record everything with that beloved instrument, and rarely—if ever—edited myself. I'd record friends, my younger brothers, conduct interviews with grandparents, act out beloved movies or spoofs on TV shows, all in the form of  a free-wheeling radio play. In some ways, little has changed, although I do admit to cleaning up too many "ums" or "tsks" if they bug me. All in all, it still remains one of my favorite communication devices of choice. You don't get hung up on the visual and distracted by that but are forced to listen closely and imagine what story you are hearing unfolding.

So Many Ways to Look Inward

In the past, I've suggested going on a peaceful winter cross-country ski in a nature setting, turning up the heat and meditating with a cup of piping hot herbal tea, or simply embracing the act of unplugging—literally all electronic devices and unnecessary noise. You can hug your inner introvert by way of a mini silent retreat with yourself. Or this year you could dim the lights, make sure you're in a sound-proof setting where you won't be disturbed, and hit record for a little self-talk. You certainly don't need any fancy recording devices or software to do this. Most Smart Phones come equipped with a recording device. Whether you choose to share your innermost thoughts or no, is distinctly up to you. At the very least, play the recording back to yourself at a later date—perhaps at the Spring Equinox, or even Lammas, since that is one of the four major sabbats, and opposite Imbolc on the calendar wheel. Check in and listen to you express your thoughts privately. See what's changed and what's remained the same. Take note in your journal and act accordingly.

When I think about Imbolc, I often think about hot chocolate. Since dairy is highlighted on the Imbolc menu in some form or another, this could be the perfect time to search out the best hot chocolate in the area. While you’re sipping—and possibly dipping—a cookie in your rich chocolaty cocoa, meditate on where you’ve come since the holidays and where you’d like to continue in the months to come.

I’ve written about Imbolc before for Pagan Square, including a meditative cross-country ski you could take during this time of the year.

Five years ago an Englishwoman, a Scottish woman and an American-Irish woman travelled together to Galway to attend the Spreading Brigit's Cloak conference at Brigit's Garden.  My friends Morag and Jo, and I had a memorable weekend celebrating the Feast of Brigit together with many other woman from across the globe. In the intervening years we have not always been able to celebrate together, but this year we all had day time available on Imbolc New Moon day, 4th February. So we three, the self-styled Cailleach Coven, met again at Imbolc.

At that conference we encountered the Crios Bríd and it's ritual. If you have ever read Seamus Heaney's poem "Brigid's Girdle", you will begin to understand. It is the belt of the goddess (or saint). I had seen one made once before, with the man trying to facsimilate the traditional way of weaving a straw rope with a hand sickle. It was tricky and it looked like a recipe for injury. At the Brigit's Garden conference there was a much more health and safety version one made from yarn. 

There used to be a time when identifying as an introvert might be akin to admitting you had a social disease. Since there is such a thing as geeky-cool now, and others fly their nerd flags high and proud, there is no shame in freely admitting that some of us recharge our batteries best solo, rather than surrounded by others. The world can be overwhelming, with non-stop cell phone tunes and Twitter tweets closing in on all sides. For one's mental and emotional health (which eventually effects the physical by the by), give yourself permission to turn off and drop out once in awhile. This is especially essential, if giving sidelong glares to strangers who sit too close on public transport is becoming the norm. And why is it in an otherwise deserted cafe, chatty Cathy always plops down right next you? Here are some kind suggestions to deal:

Learn to say, "no." It's been a crazy week and you've worked your last day of it. All you want to do is curl up with your latest SK tome or a good movie, under the covers, preferably with a mug of cocoa or tea. But your buddy who you haven't seen in many moons sends you a cheery text. "Having a last-minute party! Are you in?" Let me answer for you, fellow introvert. No. No you are not. You are not there in that frame of mind, and you will not get there, just because you force yourself to go. If all you want to do is hide from the planet, the last thing you want to do is plant yourself in an over-stimulating party scene. Likewise, cramming into an over-crowded bar to see a band is a bad idea. Because if you go, you will be resentful. You will be uncomfortable. Even if you are able to distract yourself for awhile, ultimately you are going to be wishing you were snug at home with your original plans. So that is your plan. When people invite you out, you say you have them already. It isn't necessary to go into great detail as to what they are. Take a raincheck and meet your friend for a one-on-one coffee chat, where you can really catch up the following week.

Unplug. Turn off the computer. Shut off the phone. Stop scrolling! The world won't stop spinning, I promise. There used to be a time when if you weren't immediately available, people would patiently wait for you to get back to them. Remember that? When you wanted to know how someone else was doing in your life, you would ask them in person when you saw them. Doing this for 24-48 hours can be sheer heaven. Lose yourself in a project that you've been putting off. Take a long walk. If you're camping, you sure the heck better do this, or I will come after you and scold you.

Listen to the sounds of silence. Taking a retreat where you observe an internal mute button can be therapeutic, as well. Sometimes it's good to give your vocal chords a rest. This can be done in an actual retreat center where silence is observed after dinner, or perhaps an imposed one on your own. If you live with someone, they've got to respect it, though. Check yourself into a reasonably-priced hotel if necessary. The interesting side effect here, is that thoughts will come to you – often with clear insight and clarity. Clear the cobwebs and have a revelation. Write it down in a journal, if you don't want to forget. See, being on your lonesome isn't so bad now, is it? Happy Imbolc, introvert.