Óimelc ~ Imbolc ~ In the belly

milk & mothers & mourning

This is a post for paid subscribers.

It mentions baby loss, as well as mothers, birth and death.

Each of these in their own ways may hold possible grief for you, so please hold yourself tenderly.

Here we are, two days after astronomical imbolc, midway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox.

Óimelc ~ Imbolc ~ In the belly

Thin time.

Turning place.

Cusp moment.

Liminal season.

How are you feeling, in your own self?

In the original coracle of your body; your woven, miraculous cellular form?

How is the weather where you are?

Are the winds wild?

Are the birds full of it all, of the green world, turning, as she does, towards the light?

And what of the earth beneath your feet?

Is it hard, still; holding tight to the memory of its frozen form, its long months of winter white & quiet?

A few years ago, at this exact cusp time where winter and spring dance around each other in strange, unspeakable beauty, I began sowing seeds of a new and wholly unforeseen kind.

I’d recently made the heartbreaking, life-changing decision to end contact with