Saturday, February 1, 2014

My favorite holiday

I love the beginning of February and every way in which people in the northern hemisphere celebrate the half-way point between winter solstice and spring equinox. I like the idea of Imbolc and calving and milk of course. I am dedicated to the being called Bridgid or Brigid or St. Briid or the Goddess ... she is an entity of many names and forms. I love them all. Hence every celebration of the Feast of Bridgid works for me. I like the idea of Candlemas, of course and Groundhog Day is excellent. I even like the movie.

I could go on about the holiday, maybe I'll write more tomorrow because I so adore it. What I'm thinking about today is another important early February anniversary. Thirty five years ago today, a Southern Pacific freight train hit the car I was driving. I'm wondering about my subsequent days of unconsciousness in the hospital. Was I in a coma? I don't know. The doctors probably didn't know either - neurological medicine in 1979 was crude in comparison to where it is now. After I woke up, which happened spontaneously, the nurses said repeatedly: "You're so lucky to be alive!" They also said, "We didn't know if you would wake up."

It was my call to shamanism, perfectly in line with the way shamans have been called for one hundred thousand years - at least. I was called, but it took me many years to take in what had happened to me. If I lived in a society where shamanism was accepted - as it has been in most societies all over the planet throughout history - someone would have noticed this was a spiritually meaningful event as well as a nasty collision between Datsun and freight train. Someone would have lined me up with a teacher right away.

I'm not complaining that it took me years and a lot of searching to find teachers, to accept spiritual guidance and to learn that my path is not about being powerful, or becoming more powerful, whatever that means. Step by step and year by year, I trained. Now that I've been doing it consciously and willingly for so many years, I'm starting to get pretty good at it. Shamanism is a life long art to learn, it surely is.

One of the things associated with the Feast of Bridgid is inspiration. I do feel inspired. It's February. It's the year of the Green Wood Horse. The moon is waxing and so are the hours of daylight. My energy and wholeness are at full capacity. I am inspired.


1 comment:

  1. I think survival after your train encounter is certainly reason enough for annual celebration! (Not that it's the ONLY reason...)