
In the spirit of Imbolc, I honor the whispers of my ancestors, their rituals nearly lost in the cacophony of modern life.
In a world driven by capitalism, we find ourselves severed from the sacred rhythm of the seasons. Our souls yearn to reconnect with the pulse of nature, to relearn the art of listening to the earth, to the air, to the quiet language of our own bodies. If we fail to heed this call, we risk losing not just our way, but our very essence as a species.
Before the reign of Julius Caesar, European hearts welcomed the New Year with the spring equinox, a celebration of renewal and rebirth. How intuitively beautiful it is! The first day of spring heralds the dawn of the agricultural year, a testament to the wisdom of ancient cultures that revered the cycles of life.
This new year invites us to embrace a shift in our approach: instead of chasing re-solutions, let us welcome desolutions. Re-solutions often confine us, trapping us in the old patterns we seek to escape. What if we chose instead to refrain from solving? To linger with our discomfort, to accept what we resist?
Just as revolutions of the past have often recreated the very hierarchies they sought to dismantle, our New Year’s resolutions can entrap us in familiar cycles, driven by illusions of desire.
Let us cultivate a moment of desolution, a space of possibility where certainty begins to crack. In this stillness, we might confront the shadows of our moral righteousness, allowing ourselves to be nudged into a pause.
Nature’s true New Year unfolds with the spring equinox in March. Yet here I am, still in hibernation, tenderly planting seeds in harmony with our great Mother Nature. This is how it ought to be, unshackled from the norms imposed by society. Remember, there is no rush. Take your time. Embrace the slow unfolding of life.
Be blessed by the LIGHT
See you soon, your Célia
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