measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Winter in New England This entry is my January collaborative for [paganspeak] Most years, the Sabbat this weekend is a glimmer of hope (no puns intended) that life will return to sunshine once again. Imbolc (or Imbolg, depending on your spelling), as it's usually known, is a festival of light, and a promise that soon spring and rebirth will come once again and break the cold cycle . Because of the festival of light aspect, I prefer to call it by another well-known name from Catholicism, Candlemas. On a normal year in New England, the end of January and beginning of February are brutal weeks, and the darkest days of winter. It's usually painfully cold, with sleet, snow, or rain falling every couple of days-- sometimes all at once, just to confuse the residents of the commonwealth. It's dark, it's gloomy, and just a depressing, hellish place to be. New England is a place that the celebration of Imbolc was designed for. Because any celebration of light is a welcome one when it's still somewhat dark at 7 a.m. and pitch black by 4:30. We may be past the Winter Solstice, which is the shortest day of the year, but the weeks of darkness do take a toll on the human body, and even as the days begin to get longer, the toll of winter makes it seem like the days are darker still. This year, of course, has been much different. The weather has been incredibly mild here in New England. I'd compare it more to a winter in northern California (from my teenage days of romping around there during the holidays), than on the North Atlantic. Lighting the candles on Friday night will be more symbolic than the usual thankfulness that Candlemas has finally arrived, and the dark days are going to come to an end. But I'll still find peace in it, and enjoy the time to meditate and bask in the gentle flicker of candlelight, to give myself new goals and initiatives that will be empowered by the strengthening sun. I usually do a "spring cleaning" right before Candlemas, symbolically sweeping out the negativity that's built up in the shut-up apartment througout the winter, before I do my ritual. I make sure to do it on a day that's very cold, where I open the windows and let the frigid air blow through the room, touching everything and giving it that clean, crisp smell that only the north wind can provide. Then I do my ritual, cuddled up in a blanket, with a mug of tea to be nice and cozy on the winter evening. Candlemas to me is all about warmth. I celebrate it as a holiday of Fire, a holiday of comfort, and combining the two, a holiday of love and companionship. 11:06 a.m. - 31 January 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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