The Cailleach, finally

It’s snowing as I sit typing this, here in Columbus. This would normally be a fairly uninteresting opening most years: it’s February in Ohio, after all. But this has been a very warm winter for us. That’s true for much of the country, of course, and for the globe, but I’m feeling it especially poignantly right now, since the winter storms that have blanketed friends in the upper Midwest, the Northeast — even the northern half of our own state — have encountered an unmoving bubble of warmth in Central Ohio, and at best only rained.

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On embracing the Solstice Night

I often find myself at odds over what to do with the winter solstice. A lot of my fellow pagans are really, really jazzed about the narrative of the light triumphant returning after the longest night, but it just doesn’t do much for me. I get it, of course — the Triumph of the Light is a wide-ranging cultural trope, so I feel a little surge of excited joy when listening to songs about it, or ritual that use the narrative structurally — and I certainly mean no disrespect to anyone for whom the return of the light is a meaningful narrative: I’m very glad for you! But it doesn’t do as much for me, and I think I figured out why.

A month of prayers: week 3

When I buckle down and hammer out headnotes, I get things out more timely; thus, week 3, barely a week and a half overdue!

Reaching the end of my wintry rope

As a druid, I attach a good deal of importance to my attitude toward the seasons. If we are to view life and the natural world as a set of interlocking cycles, ever-repeating, then it behooves us to approach each part of our planet’s orbit with respect at the very least. I hope to eventually reach a state of spiritual development where I can greet each season with unabashed welcome, but at the moment I have lower aims: I’d settle for equanimity. This past weekend, however, I reached the end of my winter rope, and the subsequent days haven’t improved my mood.

Greeting the Cailleach

And suddenly, winter. I’d seen the forecast (lows in the 20s, 3-5 inches of snow), but I was still not quite prepared to open the curtains Monday morning and see a field of white glowing dimly in the dawn light. I’m excited to greet the coming winter season, but I didn’t think I’d be doing it just yet.