A Poets Dinner

Admin-013 on February 2, 2020

In celebration of Imbolc and the spirit of inspiration, I have a beloved tradition of hosting a late winter Poet’s Dinner. I don’t do it every year, but I’ve held it often enough that some of my friends secretly can’t wait for their opportunity to bask in the glow of the spotlight. We set a lavish tablescape, plan a fanciful menu and tell our friends to show up with “Words and Wine.” So, on those years we are moved to, we come together for a lively night warming one another’s hearts with inspiring cuisine, incredible beverages, and intoxicating words. What I have learned from ‘Poet’s Dinners Past’ is that people can be so amazing when given an opportunity to express themselves freely. It is a thing of beauty to behold!

It’s quite fun to witness one’s little gang step up their game. There are particularly memorable evenings of gatherings that exposed stunning wild beauty. After dinner and our fair share of wine, the words begin to flow freely. It is raw, true, sexy, free, at times hilarious, and delightfully rebellious. Always these exchanges are made more endearing because of the vulnerable exposure of our fellow human’s true hearts. It never fails that I am was in awe of everyone’s willingness to play along. All people need is the invitation. A formula that continues to produce truly magical evenings had by all.

Sound enticing? Try it, you might like it! It need not be a fussy affair. Grab some of your favorites and recite them at dinner tonight! I have a few standards that I look forward to revisiting each year in early February. The Song of Wandering Aengus is at the top of the list, for certain! After observing the tradition of honoring poetry at Imbolc for decades now, I know my favorite Yeats poem by heart!

Visit my Poets Dinner Pinterest Board for more inspiration.

Watercress Salad with Avocado and Orange

Gougère

Grapefruit and Pistachio Crusted Salmon

Baked Artichoke Risotto with Radicchio

Creamed Onions with Rosemary

Dark Chocolate Dipped Oranges with Sea Salt

Banana Meringue Pudding

Carriage Punch

Imbolc ~ Surrender to Devotion

Admin-013 on January 29, 2020

Every midwinter I eagerly await the cross-quarter Celtic holiday, Imbolc. So sweetly do I cherish its treasured Goddess, Brighid for her promise of springtime and the miracle of her restorative power. She is the magic of white space after the swell of Yuletide has receded. Her presence is announced by the flutter of inspiration in our bellies as we set forth our intentions for the coming year. We sit at her feet while perusing seed catalogs, visioning the future gardens of our souls, as much as any other kind of gardens we can dream of at this time of year.

Imbolc (Imm-ulk) is the cross-quarter holiday that initiates the season of spring in the Celtic calendar. It is observed at the beginning of February with various traditions vacillating between the 1st and 2nd of the month. Lunar Imbolc is marked with the new moon in Aquarius whenever it occurs, which in the case of this blog post happens to be today (1/20/15). Imbolc is Brighid’s day through and through! She is the Goddess of inspiration, poetry, midwifery, smithcraft, healing, wells, and fire. Imbolc is the first Spring fire festival and it celebrates the growing strength of the Sun. Though the sun was reborn at Yule it isn’t until Imbolc that we can truly say we notice the difference. And what a difference it is!

The meaning of the word Imbolc is hotly debated. Some say it means “in the belly.” Others believe it means means “in milk”, or “ewe’s milk” which correlates to the birth of lambs at this time of year and the lactating of their mothers. In many parts of the world, the earth is beginning to show signs of spring. Crocus and snowdrops push up through the snow as the ground warms below the strengthening sun. In modern times we relate the season of Imbolc to cleansing and the preparation for growth and renewal. The gifts of insight and inspiration allow us to make resolutions and solid plans for the coming year.

I feel the call of Brighid intensely at this time every year. Quickening light and energy stirs me to action after the slumber of deep winter. Imbolc heralds the beginning of spring and contains the promise of renewed life in the year ahead. I was born at Samhain which is the beginning of winter but was conceived during this season of Lupercalia and in a sense, my very existence is a springtime promise fulfilled. I made my first vows to the Goddess on Imbolc as an intrepid 21-year-old. I learned what it meant to have an invincible summer inside myself that winter. To the untrained eye, the midwinter doldrums are something to merely endure, but to a wise woman, there is much to learn about the strange alchemy of fire and ice.

Right now I am deep in journey and vision work. Horse is my guide in the dream space and the journey time. Situated securely on the back of an incredible stallion I was treated to the most beautiful countryside as we made our way up the Tor to Brighid’s well in my journey last night.  A message delivered by my guide said, “Listen closely to the voice within. Are you prepared to meet the Goddess?” Atop the mound, I was told to disembark and walk the rest of the way. There were other devotees there and together we walked silently toward the well. We gathered together before her. SHE stood beside her well. Her voice called out demanding to know, “What will you heal? What will you build? How will you inspire?” When we could answer her we were given a drink of the sacred crystalline waters of Brighid’s well. The medicine a unique blend bespoke by the Goddess herself for each one of us. A voice echoes and I hear, “I vow to take the medicine I am given.”

What projects will you commit yourself to this year? What longstanding problems will you heal in your life? What thing of beauty will you create? What powerful manifestations will you bring forth?

Check your personal well, how deep are your reserves? What do you need and how will you supply it? If you already know where you want to go make sure you are properly outfitted for the journey ahead.

Fire warms, sustains, and transforms. The sensuous quality of its nature is mesmerizing. Just remember, if you play with fire you might get burned, or burned out. Wield your power wisely.

Imbolc is an especially potent and magical turn of the wheel. Behold the miracle and the power that is Brighid. Feel the flutter of inspiration in your belly. Dream the vision of your heart into being. This is smith-craft as life.

​Imbolc Candle Devotion Ceremony

Supplies:

Representing fire:

One Red Candle for creative inspiration.

Representing the sacred well:

One White Candle for transformative healing.

Representing the forge:

One Black Candle for protecting what is manifesting.

Inside of specially prepared sacred space prepare yourself by getting still and asking yourself to listen to the voice within.

Are you prepared to meet the Goddess?

When you can answer, “What will you heal (white)? What will you build (black)? How will you inspire (red)?” light the candle that corresponds to each intention. Vow to serve the mission of your vision. Dedicate yourself to the devotion of your dreams. Allow the candles to burn to fruition. Carry the wax in your medicine bag or bury it on your property. So mote it be!

The “New Moon Drifties” ~ In Defense of Aimlessness

Admin-013 on October 1, 2019

Perhaps it was the astrological flavor of a particular new moon that heightened a sensation I had previously been unable to identify? The dark Pisces moon had cast its spell on me, and I was swimming deliciously in circles. My consciousness like a speck of flotsam exploring every nook and cranny of my brain in an unchoreographed dance of water ballet. As I am a bit predisposed to attention deficit, and as it was the Pisces moon, I was of two minds about this state of affairs. On the one hand, free-floating felt good, but my other hand was busy swatting away a growing sense of shame. What the eff was that about? I floated on down to the deep end to unpack it.

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Beltane ~ The Time is Now!

Admin-013 on April 29, 2019

Beltane marks the beginning of the Summer season in the Celtic calendar. It is one of four cross-quarter fire festivals and customs to celebrate this delicious day are both plentiful and varied. There is, of course the ubiquitous maypole dance symbolizing the sacred union of the God and Goddess. Perhaps you are also familiar with the crowning of the May Queen or the Catholic counterpart of May devotions to the Blessed Virgin Mother, which do include laying a wreath of flowers upon Mary’s sainted head. At Beltane the Celts built bonfires and drove their cattle through the smoke as a blessing upon the herd as part of the festivities. Just as the veil thins at the waning of the year on Samhain and we are gifted with the presence of our ancestors, so too does it thin at Beltane and the blossoming otherworld of the Fey is very close at hand. We leave festive baskets of flowers upon our friends and neighbors doorsteps taking care not to be caught lest the sprite-like mystery of it be spoiled. And then there is The Hunt, a ceremonial dance depicting the Goddess and the God’s pursuit of one another.

This year my circle was treated to an extraordinary ritual prepared for us by several members of our group. We met near Sun Prairie on the familial homestead of one of our members. I knew we were in for quite a show and I waited with excited anticipation. We even had to postpone by one week as our central Montana climate did not get the memo that Summer had started and instead dumped a season’s worth of rain upon us in matter of a few days. Waiting was a necessary sacrifice and it made the final event so much sweeter. As we made our way to the ritual gathering hawks flew along side us and when we arrived a bald eagle flew overhead, gracing us all with it’s presence. The magick had already begun!

No detail of beauty was spared. A delightful wreath of daisies marked the rural road leading us to our site. Glass lanterns illuminated our paths. Ribbons hung on a branch flocked with blossoms served as a portal to our circle. The circle itself was enclosed in strand after strand of fairy lights. As soon as we arrived we were all transported into a magickal fairy realm. We feasted on a grand potluck of delicacies brought by everyone who came. I contributed cucumber sandwiches and lilac syrup, saving my decadent chocolate cake for the morning. The fete was off to a proper start and as soon as nightfall came, our Priestess, Sara announced it was time for the ritual to begin.

We were anointed with rose oil and asked if we were prepared to enter the circle. Once we answered we passed through the ribbons and into sacred space. There were branches laid out in a circle around the fire pit, one for each of us and we were instructed to stand behind the branch of our choosing. As soon as I took my place I was overcome with emotion. Surveying the scene: the pink sunset; the bend in the creek; and my beautiful circle sisters and brothers. I welled up with joyful tears. Sara led the ritual with such strength and beauty. We all focused the intention of what we wished to cultivate into the sticks we held in our hands and then went around the circle sharing what we wished to manifest. After each participant declared their desire, the circle would erupt in a resounding chorus declaring, “The time is now!” Once we had finished our sticks were collected, bound and set upon the stacked tier of the bonfire to be used as the kindling which would set it ablaze. The flames rose up instinctively as did my sense of awe. It was primal, ancient and bone deep.

Sara taught us the chant we would use to raise energy,”Circle of Life ● Circle of Sound ● Circle of Beltane ● Circle Around.” We would add one voice after another and chant as The Hunt played out before us. As she began our God and Goddess appeared and started their playful chase. The sight of them took my breath away. They were stunning! The sound of our chant grew louder as the chase grew more intense. I drank in as deeply as possible the incredible beauty of the moment all the while feeling like I had been whisked off to another realm. This was magick! The chant and the hunt culminated in a powerful conclusion. The God and the Goddess exchanged vows of devotion, the beauty of the moment captivating all of us with its allure. The group, 14 strong let up a cheer loud enough for the Gods to hear and sent our wishes out on the embers and the breeze. We danced and drummed around the fire into the wee hours, our excitement for the season to come blossoming into fullness. Nestled into a tiny peninsula on a hairpin curve of Mill Coulee Creek we made stunning magic all night long.