Candlemas

Last night we created the smallest, cutest Candlemas, or Imbolc,  ceremony in our home. (I’m sort of better at my practice in my mind than in practice, so to speak.) But this year we pulled it off. We rolled four simple beeswax candles and talked about it being the midpoint between the winter solstice, or beginning of winter, and the spring equinox, or end of winter/beginning of spring.

I love that the wintertime is punctuated by festivals of warmth and light, and that candles still have a beautiful place in even our modern homes. And damn, that beeswax smells so good! Children are usually far removed from the fire that has traditionally kept us warm, kept human beings safe and together, and helped us build and maintain our human family. That’s too bad. We try to light a candle every evening for our bedtime Candle Prayer. It’s good to be reminded of the magic of a lighted candle in the dark.

This is an exciting moment for me because from here on, I can look forward to spring. [Incidentally, this day (February 2) was my official due date for Asher’s birth three years ago. I sort of expected to have an Imbolc baby—it seemed to follow naturally since I already had a Beltane baby. Even though I didn’t have an Imbolc baby, the association is still there.]

Oh, and Happy Birthday to Lance, wherever he is.

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  • About Sara

    Thanks for visiting! I'm Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

    Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.

    © 2003–2017 Please do not use my photographs or text without my permission.

    "Love doesn't just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new." —Ursula K. LeGuinn

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