Keeping time by the Wheel’s turning, I am nearly halfway between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox – still immersed more in darkness than in light, traveling along the inward spiral. This tranquil in-between time has been restful, and in a season often fraught with old hauntings and stress, I found comfort in introspection and my soothing self-imposed isolation.
I sometimes amuse myself by thinking about how lovely it would be to spend these fading dark days dressed in long gowns and sturdy boots, wandering the grounds and misty lakeshore of my foreboding country mansion, shrouded in mist and mystery. Or goodness, appearing like a ghost in a large window, holding a candle and framed by heavy velvet curtains, frightening curious passersby.
A beeswax candle [S. Barker]
Imagination is certainly a boon companion to this modern-day Witch. I do, indeed, wander the rooms and grounds of my small cottage in North Carolina at all hours of the day and night. I am usually dressed in pajama pants, sneakers, and a cardigan, although I have been known to wear a hat or cloak for my own dramatic benefit. What is the point of being a Witch if I never make the chance to have fun while doing Witchy things? Sometimes, in the dark hours, I carry a candle or lantern, though more often, my light source is a flashlight. I speak out loud to whatever beings I encounter, and I sing, chant, and croon, sometimes in whispers and sometimes at the top of my lungs. I am sure that on more than one occasion, I may have frightened some poor being who was simply passing by.
My shenanigans continue to add to my connections with this land, the cottage, and the spirits that reside here or in adjacent spaces. During this particular turning of the Wheel of the Year, they have broadened my spiritual practice by bringing me to a place where I am leaning into Imbolc and the craft of managing my home by making more local connections and learning or re-learning some basic homemaking life skills.
Many Witches and Pagans celebrate Imbolc with a focus on Brigid, a Celtic Goddess of home and hearth. She holds sacred space here at Bear Path Cottage and is a part of the daily tiny homestead life. The outdoor altar dedicated to her sits near the point where an underground spring enters this piece of land and directly overlooks the small barn and chicken coop. It also happens to be in the center of the space where wildlife (bears, raccoons, possums, coyotes, and foxes) travel back and forth across the land. Brigid’s influence here is far-reaching, as is the gentle determination of her spirit. I believe that it is her nature to be more pleased by action than by words or acts of worship, and across the many forms she takes or names she holds, she is aware and approving of the renewal of interest in what some consider a simpler life.
It is not really, though – not a simpler life. It often means exchanging accustomed convenience for old “new” ideas and hard work. My baseline of information about the rise in popularity of backyard chicken keeping, food preservation, candle making, homesteading, and home crafts in general only begins with my increased awareness of it since the pandemic. Until then, I had dabbled in canning fruits and vegetables, and when I bought this home in 2019, I began the slow learning process of bringing my dream cottage life into being. Unfortunately, it sometimes felt like I was living with my feet in too many different worlds, especially when it came to trying to pull a household with other adults away from an authentic need for the convenience of single-use goods and ready-made food.
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My husband and I began working on a small kitchen renovation project last fall. There is no hurry to complete the work, so we are taking our time, feeling our way through the changes, and communicating with each other and the Cottage about what she wants or needs from us. This work has involved hours of research, pouring through magazines, online articles, and photographs. That subsequently led us down some rabbit holes about homesteading and provided a jumping-off point for conversations about becoming better stewards of this land.
Freshly laid eggs [S. Barker]
One of the problems with having issues that cause a need for convenience is that convenience sometimes results in being disconnected from community. When household goods can be ordered online and delivered in a box without a need to engage with any living person, impersonal becomes normal. When groceries can be ordered and delivered without having to inspect the quality of the produce (lately, it sucks) or see what is on the shelves and what is missing from them (a great deal), vital pieces of information about the status of the community get lost.
Ever since the pandemic started, I have encouraged people to build and maintain community connections and talked, probably endlessly, about how important that will be to our survival. Of course, as a Witch, I understand the importance of using locally sourced food and goods to help my body and spirit stay in tune with the land and spirits around me. As a solitaire, it is a little harder to convince myself of the need to stay connected with community as an access point for material needs, but I have finally arrived there.
During these quiet days, while I have walked the hallways, lakeshores, moors, and forests in my mind, I have come to terms with the changes I need to make in how I manage my household. I even gently negotiated agreements with my housemates so they are also committed to the changes.
Next month this household will start making use of a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) plan that features locally produced meats. I will be deciding about a vegetable CSA, and attempting to stretch my social anxiety limits enough to shop at the local farmers’ market weekly because that will connect me with local herbalists and other local vendors. I am delighted to have found a small business in my neighborhood that sells homemade bread and soups, especially because they make my father-in-law happy. We will switch to cloth napkins and reusable kitchen towels and further our efforts to reduce the use of single-use plastics.
A foggy morning view of Brigid’s altar at Bear Path Cottage [S. Barker]
Early this morning, I sat on the damp ground by Brigid’s altar in the fog-shrouded north yard. I discussed these changes with her to ensure we were on the same wavelength. I have been talking with her all along, but this conversation was a more formal one, negotiating another agreement between equals on how this tiny homestead is handled. There were old plans to reaffirm; the constant improvements to the chicken coop and run, including the addition of a worm farm and the selling and sharing of eggs if the flock cooperates in laying; efforts to grow and preserve vegetables and herbs; efforts to support pollinators, including staying up to date on the science that supports the work. There were also new plans to discuss, having to do with candles and other creative projects. When I came back inside and fixed a cup of tea, I was sure she was on board, and the eavesdropping land spirits were as well.
For all of this thinking and talking and dream walking, as I lean into the security and warmth of hearth and home, I am amused to find myself back in familiar territory, acknowledging that we cannot all do the same work, but we can each do as we are able.
And so we must. So mote it be.
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