30/01/2026
I've been tuning into blackthorn for weeks now. It started blooming in early January; white flowers on bare black branches, no leaves to soften the contrast. And it's still not finished. No rush. No forcing.
Just the slow blossoming that this threshold time between winter and spring actually requires of us.
Brigid can also teach us to hold different states: fire and water, the forge and the well. She doesn't choose between them as she holds both.
It seems this is partly what the Celts understood as the divine: not transcending our humanity, but finding the part of us that can witness and hold all of it.
Self- energy.
The Irish language even seems to be built on this wisdom. We don't say "I am sad" - we say "Tรก brรณn orm" - there is sadness upon me. The emotion lands on the body but you are not the emotion. You are the one who can notice it, locate it, hold it without identifying with it.
This is deeply somatic and the opposite of shame. It also gives us space to let these states move through us.
It's also the opposite of striving and achieving; it's about learning to be with, to receive, to witness.
In circle last night, we practiced accessing our compassionate witnessing selves through fire-scrying which is an ancient Celtic practice where we gaze into flame to drop into that observational state, seeing what's reflected back without grasping or pushing away.
We're learning what it feels like to tend the flame without pushing but instead staying present while the weather of our emotions moves through.
Six weeks of women tending their own flames. To be the witnessing presence. To hold many states without identifying with them, without becoming them.
I feel so grateful to be walking this threshold together.