Kore Changes

Today, we celebrate and honor Brigid—the ancient Celtic Goddess of water and fire, the holy well and sacred flame. In ancient times, nineteen priestesses kept her eternal flame burning in Kildare. When Christianity took over, she became a saint, and her priestesses were replaced by nuns. In recent years, the Brigadine nuns have relit her sacred flame.

Once again, in her honor, women of spirit lead pilgrimages and ceremonies in Ireland and around the world. And this year, Ireland has declared her festival time to be a national holiday.

If you want to learn more about Brigid, I highly reccommend Mary Condren’s book, The Serpent and the Goddess!

Brigid presides over the arts of smithcraft, poetry, and healing. In this time of so much sickness, of body and soul, I offer this poem to her and all of us:

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

For Brigid in the Second Year of the Pandemic

Brigid, the Healer

We know the body’s miracle capacity
To mobilize
To guard its borders
To fight off intruders
To repair the damage once the battle is done

Not all battles can be won
And sometimes the damage is too great to mend
And sometimes the weapons are lies

Brigid of the Forge

It takes fire to make disparate metals blend
To an alloy stronger than either alone
And blow after blow
Of the hammer
To forge a keen edge you can hone
A sword to cut through flesh and splinter bone
Or a scalpel, sharp to excise
The cancer

How do we discern what we must know
From desire in disguise?
Not every question has an answer

Brigid the Poet

Truth sets the tongue on fire
Truth can cauterize
The suppurating sore
Truth can forge and anneal
But we need more
Hammer on anvil rings like a bell

May we drink from your clear well
And heal

Feb 1st this year is the Lunar New Year as well as the Celtic holiday Imbolc. Gather your candles, clean your home, order your seed calendar, take a reflective walk, gather your wood for a bonfire…

A halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, it is a time to celebrate the thaw of winter and the pregnant bellies out there with fire, seeds, and blessings for the hearth & home for a fresh cycle.

May you enjoy this time with your loved ones, with gratitude to the wisdom that came from winter’s reflective, inward time. Turn your minds eye to the seeds you will be planting in the earth this growing season, as well as those seeds you will be planting in your life. What tending needs to happen to your “container” for those new seeds to grow? What fire needs to be lit to ignite your will to manifest?

However you choose to celebrate, Happy Lunar New year and a blessed Imbolc to you!

I Am Not in Here
By Thich Nhat Hanh

I have a disciple in Vietnam who wants to build a stupa for my ashes when I die. He and others want to put a plaque with the words, “Here lies my beloved teacher.” I told them not to waste the temple land.

“Do not put me in a small pot and put me in there” I said. “I don’t want to continue like that. It would be better to scatter the ashes outside to help the trees to grow.”

I suggested that, if they still insist on building a stupa, they have the plaque say, “I am not in here.” But in case people don’t get it, they could add a second plaque, “I am not out there either.” If still people don’t understand, then you can write on the third and last plaque, “I may be found in your way of breathing and walking.”

This body of mine will disintegrate, but my actions will continue me. In my daily life I always practice to see my continuation all around me. We don’t need to wait until the total dissolution of this body to continue—we continue in every moment.

If you think that I am only this body, then you have not truly seen me. When you look at my friends, you see my continuation. When you see someone walking with compassion, you know he is my continuation.

I don’t see why we have to say “I will die,” because I can already see myself in you, in other people, and in future generations.

Even when the cloud is not there, it continues as snow or rain. It is impossible for a cloud to die. It can become rain or ice, but it cannot become nothing. The cloud does not need to have a soul in order to continue. There’s no beginning and no end. I will never die. There will be a dissolution of this body, but that does not mean my death.

I will continue, always.

Excerpted from Thich Nhat Hanh “At Home in the World: Stories & Essential Teachings from a Monk’s Life” (2015)