Grief Spells for the Belly of spring: Welcoming Resurgence

Illustration from “Merlin Dreams” by Alan Lee

Dear Shapeshifter,

The longest night of the year is behind us. The days slowly grow longer. The morning chorus of birds begins to swell. In the Northern hemisphere, we dwell in the in between of winter and spring’s promise, in the belly of the earth’s creative yearning.

In pagan traditions, Feb 1-2nd is marked by the ancient Gaelic festival of Imbolc, celebrating the yearly escape of (or in other tellings, the transformation of) the springtime goddess Brigid from the winter crone Cailleach. Imbolc is thought to mean in the belly, honoring the new life in the bellies of the sheep, the coming of their milk, and the cyclical rebirth of the year. We may think of Imbolc as not only celebrating this cyclical awakening of an external spring, but also the cyclical awakening of our own internal springs. As Amanda Yates Garcia shares:

“Brigid is the goddess of inspiration, she is the FEELING of inspiration that makes our heart beat faster and IS our enthusiasm to create, to communicate, to live. Brigid is the dauntless life force that resurges no matter how many times the overculture tries to suck it out of us.”

In Jewish tradition, this Sunday is the ritual feast (Seder) of Tu BiShvat, celebrating the New Year of the Trees– where fruits and wines are blessed and savored as we praise the divine, the trees, and “listen for the living world calling us” (Rabbi Adina Allen). When we listen, what do we hear? Right now, I hear the songs of the forests and abolitionist forest defenders, the Tu BiShvat blessings that include them. And a little closer, I hear the fig tree outside my window, whose roots have been exposed by the ever growing pack of dogs at our home who delight in digging. And the compost that needs turning.

As Rabbi Adina Allen says, “perhaps this moment of peril and possibility calls us to discover the divine down here, in the muddy, messy material reality where we are.” The fertile creatrix Brigid, too, does not turn away from mess, death, or grief. Instead, Brigid is recognized as a protector of cemeteries and the creator of the mourning practice of keening - an ancient Gaelic expression of “raw emotion, spontaneous word, repeated motifs, crying, and elements of song”, given rhythm by hands beating upon coffins and earth (The Keening Wake). 

Both Tu BiShvat and Imbolc remind us to welcome the resurgent chthonic creative forces of the earth which includes us, includes grief. This is not a get up and go back to work kind of resurgence, this is the wild expression of our aliveness, enmeshment, and desire to feed life amidst loss.

Both TuBishvat and Imbolc remind us also that creative resurgence is a collective practice—we don’t do anything alone, as a species or as individuals. We too are entangled in the belly of the world. We too are mycelial networks awakening, and branches bearing the promise of fruit. 

In this belly of the year and new year of the trees, how can we actively welcome this resurgence in our landscapes and our bodies? What nourishment and inspiration do we need to welcome ourselves into creative practice? How can we welcome, bless, and nourish those who nourish us?

May we be like the forces of Spring, uncontainable in our entangled creative yearning.

Yours,

Mara

P.S. If you have a spell you’d like to share, consider submitting to this Spring’s collaborative zine Grieving as Shapeshifting: Spells for Coming Undone - click here for details

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