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A priestess once told me, “you plant your seeds in the dark season”, and she wasn’t wrong. As someone who tends to cultivate my manifestations internally rather than externally, this makes perfect sense, as the dark season is all about introspection and shadow work. I didn’t know it at the time, but this is a common practice for Mabon. As a gardener, yes, there are some seeds that get planted in the fall to germinate over the winter, and these are the spiritual seeds I use to plant my soul garden. If there’s one important lesson to remember with mabon planting, it’s this:
Planting seeds in the fall means having faith.
Anything can happen over the winter. Anything can happen to the soil in such a long span of time. As humans we huddle in and hunker down. we store reserves and insulate ourselves from the elements. The seeds we plant, however, are at the mercy of the harsh dark part of the year, and there’s nothing much we can do to protect them.
As a person, I like answers. I like knowing what I’m manifesting is coming along. I like knowing I’ve picked the right direction at the cross-roads we’ll meet at Samhain. I like knowing, so planting my seeds in the fall is an exercise in not knowing.
Not knowing.
Just the words inspire anxiety. I’ve written a lot about letting go, and I’ve perfected it, as a finite action. Not knowing is a far different type of letting go. It’s letting go but not giving up. It’s letting go with hope that you’ve done all you can to prepare the soil for a favourable harvest. It’s letting go knowing whatever happens will still be ok. Whew! This is a hard lesson to learn and retain, friends.
At Mabon we do a few things. .
We clear away what no longer nourishes us. Often the not knowing is in the regret, guilt, and uncertainty we feel in a finite letting go. It may be followed by relief, remorse, or both. It may be met with tears and pain. It may be met with euphoria and weightlessness.
We hold on to that which will get us through the dark season. The not knowing here is the fear that maybe we haven’t grown or stored enough to keep us through. In ancient times it meant literally starving to death. Now it means having the energy and mental health reserves to make it through the shadow work the fark season tends to bring. It means keeping around people who are good for us. It means, in many cases, having the means to get through seasonal affective disorder or other mental health issues that come with shorter days and the stress of the holidays.
We plant seeds hoping for their brilliant manifestation when the light returns. The not knowing here is huge. The not knowing here comes in not knowing if anything we have done or can continue to do will be enough for the seeds to flourish. It means not knowing if the seeds were healthy enough to survive the freeze. It means not knowing what will happen in the interim and whether or not we’ll even be here for the harvest.
Letting go but not giving up takes a lot of courage, patience, and faith.
This Mabon I’m learning to do that in ways that terrify me, and I can already feel that this dark season is going to be one massive AFOG (Another Fucking..or Fabulous if you’d rather…Opportunity for Growth). This year I have been tested in ways I couldn’t imagine, and I am pulling through it with more creativity and grace than I thought I could muster. This season I have to finally admit to myself that I have done everything I can to prepare the soil and pick the right seeds, and from here on out I have to let go for a while. Let go but not give up. Let go but continue to be aware of those seeds just under the surface where I can’t see them. Let go but hold on tight and let the ride through the darkness take me where it will.
Go now. Let go, but don’t give up.
It has never been planned this way, but between Yule and Brighid every year the seeds are planted for what will become the focal point of that year. Last year I interviewed for the opportunity of a lifetime, a flight attendant position with the airline I have worked for for almost a decade. I got my acceptance call on Brighid in the middle of a blizzard.
It has taken nearly a tear for me to adjust to the lifestyle change. The traveling and the service were easy. The hard lesson was one of isolation. Accustomed to the support system around me, I had to learn to get over my own inertia and face the intimidating silence of being alone.
I’ve had to handle my frustration, my sadness, my fear, and even my happiness on my own, and though it’s been one of the most difficult periods of growth I’ve ever faced, it’s given me more faith in myself as a result. Last week, after a round of cancelled plans, I walked into a poetry slam not knowing a soul and got on stage as a stranger. Taking up a chair at a table for four was a bit painful, but as the room filled people would sit and chat for a moment or two between poets, and by the time I knew it the night was over. I had done it. I had gone out alone.
From that experience came a voice from within echoing a push I’ve felt since the beginning of the year to take some big strides with my creative work. Now that I feel fulfilled and content with my career and confident in my abilities to hold my dreams in my hands and know what they feel like, I feel inspired to pursue other goals with the same passion.
Passion. The one thing that has always driven me no atter what held me back. When I’ve been sick, broke, broken, and desperate. When I’ve been fallow and lost. When I’ve been alone. Passion has always kept me pressing forward, and it is that passion that I find when I call for Brighid this Imbolc. As her fire burns within me, it fuels the passion that dries me. Her flame gives heat to my words, movement to my music, and life to my art. Last year was my year of water and fluidity. This year is my year of fire. My year of Passion.
I was once told during a Mabon divination ritual to plant my seeds in the winter instead of the spring like most, and it has rang true that I am generally more inspired and fruitful in the darker half of the year. Maybe it comes from the introspection that comes in the colder seasons. I am less distracted by the light energy and vibrating dance of the spring and summer. It could also be that I find my inspiration in the darker portions of myself, those places that we often try to ignore or change.
In the story of Persephone we see an eventual balance of light and dark. In embracing the darkness and joining Hades, Persephone sets in motion the events that create a separation between the light and dark times of the year. It is her journey that brings the world balance.
It is important that we too have this balance in our lives to reach our full potential. Persephone doesn’t just travel to the darkness, she loved it. She takes it in and tastes it, and in the end she returns to it again and again as a part of her self. We too must learn to experience and love our darkness as a part of who we are.
When we use the word “darkness” we think of frightening and unwelcome things. We think of violence and negativity. We think of anything dark as a blight, but true darkness can be a thing of beauty. The dark is “scary” because that’s when our imaginations take over, but some of life’s most magical things come from the imagination. The dark is the unknown, but the unknown gives us endless possibilities if we can get over our fear of it. From the dark we pull courage, strength, and inner calm. If we use what the darkness can give us to create and grow as much as we use the light we can be unstoppable.
Inner darkness is a place of deep emotion, sensuality, and survival. A place of transformation and rebirth. Each of these aspects of our personality holds immense power and potential that can be tapped into if we can take the steps to make our own journey to our own Underworld. I won’t say it’s not a little daunting. Steps are unsure and footing is loose. At first it can be terrifying, but once you’ve mapped the route and made peace with the darkness it can be a place of solace and quiet comfort.
Loving your darkness is about balance, but it is also about releasing fear. Once you are fearless you are free.
Go now, embrace your darkness.
Aloha
At Imbolc we prepare for and rejoice in the coming spring. It’s a time of clearing away, planning, and preparations. It’s a time of promise and hope. There is still cold to be endured, but the darkest parts of winter are over.
Over the last year our family has been through Hell more than once. While it has fortifies us, it has also left us with a thick layer of ash and detritus of things that no longer serve us, those things we had to burn before we could move forward. A few weeks ago Hubby and I began the process of cleaning out not only the emotional litter and clutter, but the physical as well, and it really has made a lot of difference in our strength as a team.
One of the deities most associated with Imbolc is Brighid. I have dedicated myself Brighid for many years now. I have made offerings and called to her in times of celebration and need, and she has become a very important aspect of my spirit, but lately I have felt the need for a better connection to my inner Brighid, the part of me that has seen me through the times of greatest fire. This year my Imbolc celebration and personal work centered on making this connection. I have a litany of ambitious goals for the coming year, and if there is to be any progress then I will need her with me in all her forms.
The maiden to keep a creative, whimsical optimism to lead me through the most mundane tasks with the knowledge that something magical and truly happy awaits at the end.
The mother and midwife to help me give birth to my ideas and passions and nurture all my undertakings, and to help those around me do the same for theirs.
The crone to have the wisdom to succeed where I can and let go of what just can’t be done.
The warrior to be strong even when I am weary and outnumbered.
The blacksmith to fortify those around me who may feel weak.
The healer to keep myself and my family healthy and tend to them when sickness or uneasiness settles upon us.
The poet to keep the words flowing, the inspiration lighted, and communication smooth.
Never before have I felt the heat of Brighid’s dancing flame and the depth of her healing waters, and never before have I felt so empowered. I spent this Imbolc alone with my thoughts, my soul, and my words, and I was able to finally make a connection to the goddess that has been waiting inside me. All she needed was a spark.
Blessed Be.
Pearls and Pentagrams 
What Say You?