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The Women Who Walk Between Worlds
I was chatting to somebody about hypnosis recently, a subject I know very little about, to be honest. I do know that it is used in...


Samhain and the Cailleach
Samhain, the astronomical moment of liminality, is drawing closer. Although Halloween will be celebrated on the 31st of October, the...


Customs and Folklore of the Autumn Equinox
This year, the Autumn Equinox takes place on the 22nd of September here in Western Europe. This is the moment in the year when the hours...


The ancient roots of 'Valentine's Day'
Although the heart is probably the symbol most associate with Valentines Day, it might surprise people that the wolf can also lay claim...


Spring, the Air Element, and the Silent Extinction of Words
Imbolc marks the first day of spring in Ireland and within the Celtic Wheel of the Year. The principal element of spring is Air, which relates to filaments of all kinds – not least our vocal cords, through which communication, music, song, poetry, and spoken word arise. These are all expressions of air. In recent years, emojis, gifs, social media slang, and careless abbreviations have increasingly entered everyday language, thinning meaning and flattening expression. There se


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'A Morning Offering', by John O'Donoghue
I bless the night that nourished my heart To set the ghosts of longing free Into the flow and figure of dream That went to harvest from...


St Brigid, Lá Fhéile Bríde, and Imbolc – Clarifying the Distinction and the Thread Between Them
If you are Irish, as I am, you will know that today, February 1st, is the feast day of St Brigid – Lá Fhéile Bhríde – a fixed-date holy day honouring Ireland’s female patron saint. Imbolc, one of the eight indigenous festivals of the Celtic Wheel of the Year, takes place on February 4th in 2024 when observed astronomically. This article aims to clarify the distinction between these two dates, as well as the deep relationship between them. I also recommend reading the other B


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'The Thing Is', by Ellen Bass
To love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,...


On Imaginal Cells and Trusting the Process
To better understand the opportunity hidden in today’s crises, consider the tale of another world in transition. Imagine you are a single...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Ancient Language', by Hannah Stephenson
If you stand at the edge of the forest and stare into it every tree at the edge will blow a little extra oxygen toward you It has been...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Sojourns in a Parallel World', by Denise Levertov
We live our lives of human passions, cruelties, dreams, concepts, crimes and the exercise of virtue in and beside a world devoid of our...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Learning from Trees', by Grace Butcher
If we could, like the trees, practice dying, do it every year just as something we do— like going on vacation or celebrating birthdays,...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'On Pain', by Kahlil Gibran
And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain. And he said: Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Wild Geese', by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let...


The Solace of Open Spaces
“There is nothing in nature that can’t be taken as a sign of both mortality and invigoration… Everything in nature invites us constantly...


The Science of How Alive You Really Are: Alan Turing, Trees, and the Wonder of Life
When the young Alan Turing (June 23, 1912–June 7, 1954) lost the love of his life, Christopher, to a bacterium contracted from cow’s...


Navigating the Mysteries, by Dr. Martin Shaw
As we walk our questions into a troubled future, storyteller and mythologist Martin Shaw invites us to subvert today’s voices of ...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Mistletoe', by Walter De La Mare
Sitting under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle...


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Hoar Frost', by Moira Cameron
In icy cover of the dark- too cold, the Arctic air can’t muster up the will or care to gust- strange magic thrives in stillness stark:...


Keening Traditions and the Irish Wake
When looking at the lifecycle in terms of folklore it cannot escape ones notice that many aspects of the life cycle have clearly defined...
