In Between Times … – Amy

I was shopping for groceries when a man looked at me and smiled.

He was hot.

Cooking eggs on a sidewalk in July hot.

And he was walking over, so I reflected on my status.

Hair? Good.

Clothing? Perfect.

Interest? High.

“Hi.” He said. “You have a great smile.” (I get that a lot, from complete strangers.)

We talked and then he said, “Can I get your number so I can ask you out?”

And I wanted to say yes.

Everything in me wanted to say yes.

So I said…

“No.”

Dramatic pause.

“No. I broke up with someone recently and I’m not quite ready for that right now. But if you give me your number, I’ll call you.”

To which he replied, “Oh no. That never works! That means you’ll never call.”

I just smiled as he handed me his number.

I planned to call him. Days went by. Then weeks. Then months. Then years. I never called him.

But I always wondered what would’ve happened if I’d called Billy, the guitar playing, blue eyed, brown haired man who lived in Northeast Minneapolis.

Shift Before You Lose Your Opportunity

Looking at the seasons for inspiration can help us navigate the crazy cycles of life.

There’s a time for resting and hibernating. The end of a relationship, for instance, is a dark winter night when all you want to do is sit and read while drinking tea and listening to jazz.

But eventually you reach a time when you gotta come out of the snooze-zone. It’s the time between times, when winter is not quite over and spring hasn’t yet sprung.

This is when we need to pay attention.

Pay attention to the lingering light that’s shining on us.

Pay attention to the seeds we’re planting, whether we’re aware of them or not.

Pay attention to the joy that is standing before us, asking for our number.

Because this in-between time is when things are ripe for shifting, and if you don’t shift consciously, you lose out on the magic of the moment.

And then it’s gone forever.

Celebrating Imbolc: The Transition from Winter to Spring

Maybe if our culture was more integrated with nature we wouldn’t do things like say “no” when the perfect guy asks us out.

Maybe we’d see it as a sign that all is well and that it’s time to move on.

In the tradition of my ancestors, February 2, called Imbolc (I-molg), marks one of these transitional periods, a time between time.

Not quite winter, not quite spring, Imbolc is the time when winter is putting away her coat and spring is fluffing up her skirts. It marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, and it’s also the period in which we begin to leave the coziness of our hearth and contemplate the seeds we’re going to plant.

Imbolc is one of many shifts in the wheel of seasons. Yet depending on where you live, February may put you knee deep in snow, or standing next to daffodils peeking through the mud. Regardless, spring is on the way.

We can flow easily with the cycles or fight against them. When we embrace the lessons of the seasons, though, we can see that winter must always give way to spring, whether we’re ready for it or not.

What to Do When Imbolc Arrives

Getting into the spirit of the season may help us stay more easily connected to nature and her keen wisdom.

This Imbolc, for instance, I honored the season with some ancestral traditions (and some new). I decorated my house with sheep and put out a bowl of milk as an offering to the land. I made braided bread and a rosemary doll (instead of corn husk…gotta work with what you have). Then had a lovely pea soup for dinner.

Over the next few days, I’ll be adding a splash of spring green to my home decor (think pillows, artwork, linens) and open the windows to let in some fresh air.

I’ll clean the house and sage to release stagnant energy.

And I’ll contemplate the seeds I want to plant when the time is right. The literal seeds, like tomatoes, and the metaphoric seeds, like upcoming teleseminars.

Saying Yes to the Invitations of Life

Not all time-between-time opportunities are ideal, but when they come it’s helpful to be mindful that they may be a sign of the inner transition from winter to spring, from end-of-relationship to falling-in-love.

And if you’re mindful, you’ll say more yeses when the Billys of life show up and never have to wonder, “What if…”

sweet dreaming,

Amy

Source: Amy Bruckner – Dream Your Desires Into Being

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~ Saint Magick – Saint Brigid of Kildare ~ – Ye Olde Dark Arts

saint-brigid

FEAST DAY: February 1

DAY OF THE WEEK: Sunday

CANDLE COLOR: Yellow

LEGEND: Daughter of Dubtach, pagan Scottish king of Leinster, and Brocca, a Christian Pictish slave who had been baptized by Saint Patrick. Just before Brigid’s birth, her mother was sold to a Druid landowner. Brigid remained with her mother till she was old enough to serve her legal owner Dubtach, her father.

She grew up marked by her high spirits and tender heart, and as a child, she heard Saint Patrick preach, which she never forgot. She could not bear to see anyone hungry or cold, and to help them, often gave away things that were Dubtach’s. When Dubtach protested, she replied that “Christ dwelt in every creature”. Dubtach tried to sell her to the King of Leinster, and while they bargained, she gave a treasured sword of her father’s to a leper. Dubtach was about to strike her when Brigid explained she had given the sword to God through the leper, because of its great value. The King, a Christian, forbade Dubtach to strike her, saying “Her merit before God is greater than ours”. Dubtach solved this domestic problem by giving Brigid her freedom.

Brigid’s aged mother was in charge of her master’s dairy. Brigid took charge ,and often gave away the produce. But the dairy prospered under her (hence her patronage of milk maids, dairy workers, cattle, etc.), and the Druid freed Brigid’s mother.

Brigid returned to her father, who arranged a marriage for her with a young bard. Bride refused, and to keep her virginity, went to Bishop Mel, a pupil of Saint Patrick’s, and took her first vows. Legend says that she prayed that her beauty be taken from her so no one would seek her hand in marriage; her prayer was granted, and she regained her beauty only after making her vows. Another tale says that when Saint Patrick heard her final vows, he mistakenly used the form for ordaining priests. When told of it he replied, “So be it, my son, she is destined for great things.”

Her first convent started with seven nuns. At the invitation of bishops, she started convents all over Ireland. She was a great traveller, especially considering the conditions of the time, which led to her patronage of travellers, sailors, etc. Brigid invented the double monastery, the monastery of Kildare that she ran on the Liffey river being for both monks and nuns. Saint Conleth became its first bishop; this connection and the installation of a bell that lasted over 1000 years apparently led to her patronage of blacksmiths and those in related fields.

PETITION SAINT BRIGED: for childbirth, protection from fires, fertility, the hearth, healing, physcians, agriculture, animal husbandry, inspiriation, learning, poetry, prophecy, smithcraft, love.

PATRONAGE: babies; blacksmiths; boatmen; cattle; chicken farmers; children whose parents are not married; dairymaids; dairy workers; fugitives; infants; Ireland; Leinster, Ireland; mariners; midwives; milk maids; newborn babies; nuns; poets; poultry farmers; poultry raisers; printing presses; sailors; scholars; travellers; watermen

REPRESENTATION: abbess, usually holding a lamp or candle, often with a cow nearby

Source: ~ Saint Magick – Saint Brigid of Kildare ~ – Ye Olde Dark Arts