The Goddess Brigid’s Antidote to Fear
Recently, I journeyed to visit with Brigid, Celtic Goddess of the coming Spring. She’s the one poets love, guardian of sacred craft, healer and visionary Seer. She’s so important this time of year, as an archetype and guiding spirit: She holds the secret wisdom of how it is that something comes from nothing… how life takes hold in the womb of a woman or the Earth… how Light draws herself out of utter darkness.
By February, we’ve likely warmed the bones of our dream(s) during the darkest days. Or, maybe we have no clue what our “dream” is… in which case, perhaps our dream is to come to appreciate an unknown, fallow time in our journey.
Wherever we find ourselves, now is a time to fall more deeply in love with what we most desire— to truly vision it into reality. It’s also a crucial time to face the fear invariably exhumed by new beginnings.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
When I find Brigid in the deep imagination place, she’s standing calmly in a snow-laden forest of Birch trees. But I noticed little crocuses peeping out here and there on the forest floor. I gift her a single white rose. Suddenly, the ground is covered with white roses, hundreds of them, as if to say~ the love we give multiplies many times over and is gifted back to us, without fail.
She takes my hands and we close our eyes. She transports us to a snowy mountain top, where a winter storm rages. The snow twirls madly, betraying the frenzied shape of the wild wind blowing in every direction. I can barely see Brigid, but she holds fast to my hands. Though I feel blown asunder and anxious by the storm, she sits serenely, eyes closed, a gentle smile graces her lips, her small body impossibly unmoved by the gale. I try to do the same.
“You must see it,” I heard her or the Wind or both whisper.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
So often, in the old stories, Brigid is seen to be at odds with the old crone-hag of winter. They battle each other at the threshold of Winter and Spring, each vying for her season’s precedence. As if on queue, a windy nor’easter raged the Atlantic northeast, where I live, over Imbolc last weekend (which marks the arrival of Brigid’s Spring-time coaxing).
The brittle, wise and infallible Queen of Winter is known by many names the world over, but to the Celts, she is called the Cailleach. As if born of the Celtic love-affair with paradox, I saw a different kind of relationship between Brigid and Cailleach in my journey— an alliance, or perhaps more accurately, an understanding—
collage using Canva rose image + art by Ashley Bryner
Though frozen ground and fearsome gales within and without are guaranteed on the road of life, so must the vision be seen, the picture of rebirth held in the heart, and eventually, realized.
In some ways, our (western) culture has forgotten how to be in Winter~ How to go slow, to grieve, to be fully with death and dying in reverence not war, to conserve our energy and resources, to trust our inner-wisdom and to expect and weather the storms that bring us to clear vision… yes.
But in sitting on that mountaintop with Brigid, I saw another truth: that in the culture, too, we have forgotten our deepest Love. Our chthonic innocence. Which is not at all naivety, but the innocence which knows that the true story is that life comes again. Innocence which knows: if you can see it, you can have it. That this is the way of things: Life following death following life and onwards, the one strengthened by the other in exquisite tension.
And so, in mythic good-natured wars of wind and sun, Brigid and Cailleach dance into our hearts this truth that there is no stopping the wild, cold storm from freezing us over and, paradoxically, there is no stopping the verdant return of Life, no way to hold back the lush, soft, tender valley’s greening… Unless we fail to see it.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Back on the mountaintop, the winds begin to calm, and indeed, I begin to see a valley below, alight with every shade of green known to the world. And white blossomed orchards on dappled meadows. People moving about carrying their gifts for the community. Sun and rainbow. Rushing waterfall. Pathways, once lost to snow-cover, revealed again. Wild animals fattening. The smell of Daphne and wild Roses wafting through the air.
This is what she’s been seeing, focusing utterly on, training her mind and body to know with every sense and in all fine detail. Eyes closed, sitting calmly in the storm, the cold, the unknowing, the low-visibility— she chooses to believe her desires into clear visibility.
It really doesn’t matter what kind of vision you’re carrying— grand or small, personal or collective. What matters — literally: what becomes matter — is that you vision it.
What do you know about your dream? Have you spent time this week using all of your senses to clearly see what it is you long to actualize?
As Winter diminishes and Spring spreads her slow but surely wings, the energy will begin to shift into deep structure, planning, and eventually, moving into the juiciest of creative-modes— all the more enjoyable for having spent time deeply desiring, loving, showering your dream (goals, ideas, longings, projects) with affection.
To Love what we Love, in all clear innocence and trust, is to know exactly what it is we’re creating.
Not in the sense that we know every nook and cranny of the verdant valley, but in the sense that we know the valley exists— that after the snowmelt, we know it’s already there. We’ve touched, tasted, felt, sensed and gathered ourselves there and so, we know something of the place we’re going. It’s the place we love. It’s the place we’ve always known.
Cailleach rhythmically lifts the winds to challenge us to Love again, no matter what storm we find ourselves or our culture or our very planet in. Indeed, it’s the storm that carries us toward Love. And Brigid knows this. That is why she’s so clam, so steady. That is why she’s smiling. Because she knows… life always comes again. And we’re the ones giving it shape, desiring and divining it into verdant form.
Brigid’s Practice in Visionary Desire
Sit in the mountain storm with Brigid: Sit quietly and let your thoughts fall like snow onto the Earth. You might listen to Flower Duet, from Léo Delibes opera Lakme, or any other music which strums the deepest romance in you.
Slowly allow your dream to rise up in your mind’s eye. What is your dream for this year or even the next few years? Is it to love yourself more? Is it to move, to find love, to heal? To start a business, a family, a revolution? Is it to learn an ancient craft or invent a new one? Do you just wish to be able to gather with loved ones again? To feel safe? Or, is your longing more numinous… do you long to find and claim your power, meet a deep ancestor or to passionately belong to yourself and your one true life?
Whatever your most compelling dream or longing, bring it up in your mind. Use the sensing powers below to guide your visualization. It is not enough to know your dream intellectually. You have to know it with your whole body. Indeed, you have to fall in love with it and give it your whole heart.
As you begin to see your dream, ask yourself:
How does my dream look? Take it in, notice everything you can. Notice at least one thing you never noticed before.
How does my dream sound? What do I hear?
How does my dream taste and smell?
Notice Who is There (human) and Who is There (more than human— aka plant beings, animals, spirit guides, dieties, elements, etc).
Notice What do I intuitively know about this place to which I’m drawn.
And lastly, opening your eyes slowly, place your hands over your heart in loving kindness and take in the whole scene around you, both seen and sensed aspects of your present life.
Now Ask yourself:
What seems to be the starkest contrast between where I am now, and where/what I am longing to be/do? What am I afraid will happen if I wholeheartedly pursue this dream / longing?
Your answer is a doorway. Your vision, an innocence.
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