A chairde, lá fhélle Bríde sona daoibh (ah, cor-dja, law ay-la bree-ja sona dee-ove)
(Friends, happy Bridget’s Day)
To the Celts, time was measured not by a rigid calendar but in honour of the natural rhythm of the Earth. The midpoint between the four Cardinal moments – the days of equal light and dark (the Equinoxes) and the days where Sol stands still (the solstices) – were reverently observed as a liminal time of preparation and purification at the start of the seasons. Yes, these cross quarter moments were once the dawn of the seasons and not the Equinox and Solstices, which were the middle of the seasons until the twentieth century when they were reinvented by our friends in America, as we further uncoupled ourselves from Nature.
Imbolg (im-bolk), arriving not on the 1st of February, but when our light bearer, Lugh (lu) (Sol) our star, reaches the middle of An tUiscedóir (tisk-a-door) (Aquarius), is that time in the North when the cold damp and frozen ground began to loosen, and new life stirred beneath the surface. It is neither the stillness of winter nor the abundance of spring, but a point of transition where change was inevitable yet still unseen.
Central to Imbolc is Brigid, the Bandia (bahn-gia) (woman god) whose presence is deeply woven into pre-Christian tradition. She was Breo-Saighit, the Flame of Ireland and Bríghid, daughter of the Dagda and part of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a goddess who presided over poetry, healing, fertility, and smith-craft. The embodiment of inspiration, the force behind creation, the guiding principle in the turning of the seasons, as a tripartite goddess, she existed in multiple forms, associated with the forge, the well, and the hearth, each representing a different manifestation of transformation and sustenance. She was invoked in childbirth and healing, in the act of forging metal, and in the spoken word of poets and storytellers who carried tradition forward.
Imbolc has always been dedicated to her, marked by fire and water – both symbols of purification and renewal. Hearth fires are tended, ensuring warmth and continuity, while wells are visited to seek their restorative properties. Not yet a time of planting, but one of readiness, offerings are made to invite prosperity in the seasons to come. Imbolg, or imbolc, comes from i mbolg (I mol-ig), ‘I’ meaning ‘in’ and bolg meaning stomach or belly, because it is the time that pregnant ewes have a lamb in their belly and give birth, also signalling the first true signs of nature’s shift.
With the arrival of Christianity, Brigid did not disappear but was instead syncretically merged into the new belief system as Saint Brigid of Kildare. Yet the Irish reverence for her never diminished, her eternal flame continued to burn, her wells remained places of pilgrimage, and her role as a guardian of fertility, creativity, and healing persisted.
So to observe Imbolc, on this day, the 3rd of February 2025, is to acknowledge this ancient continuity, to recognise the subtle changes in the earth, and to align with the movement towards renewal. It is a time for clearing space, for setting intentions, for welcoming the lengthening days in the North (shortening in the South). The fire that burns for Brigid is not only that of the hearth or the forge, but also the inner spark that drives creativity and renewal. The stretch in the day is now noticeable, as the light extends to 5 pm, subject to many a banal comment, yet its acknowledgement carries with it the promise of growth and new beginnings, and blessings that the Light has returned.