This is my new year. At some point over the past few years I realized that this cross-quarter day, the mid-way point in Aquarius, feels like the new year to me. Somewhere along the way I have veered from the traditional holidays because the old ones feel right to me. I can feel the earth's belly starting to warm beneath the snow and ice; I sense the new growth that will be bursting forth in a few short months; I watch each day become a little longer, a little lighter.
The usual celebration would be to light candles, which I can't do in my current living situation, and to feast in honor or Brigid, goddess of smithcraft and poetry, keeper of the sacred fire and caller to modern women to remember their power and use it for a world sorely in need. Tonight I will write of patterns of thought and action that I am letting go, ones that haven't served me or the world for years and years. I continue to meditate on where she wants me to work, what she wants me to do and I put my requests to the stars and try to be patient.
My thoughts and dreams are of permaculture, greening, priestess pathwork, counseling, designing, sobriety and recovery, community, sustainability, writing, ritual. How they can all fit together. How will she weave this web? It will be intricate and beautiful and I will do my best. It never occurs to me that I'm in no position to dream. I'm longing for a new tribe while continuing to honor the old tribe. More connection; common growth. Patience, Angela - that is my mantra.
Happy New Year.