Cautious Optimism at the Festival of Imbolc
In the Northern Hemisphere we observe the festival of Imbolc on 1 February, a time when the days are increasing in length, the snowdrops are peeking through the ice, and we’re preparing for the season of rebirth. Around this time we may also celebrate the Lunar New Year, Candlemas, Groundhog Day, or Carnival, other festivals that nod to death and rebirth. These festivals are associated with the return of the light and life, but what if being hopeful for light after the dark winters of our lives feels too activating? Opening to the light requires cautious optimism, a state of being which is liminal and will help us shift from stress responses like hypervigilance or burn-out to lighter energies like hopefulness.
In Ireland Imbolc is also observed as St. Brigid’s Day when many celebrate by weaving Brigid’s Crosses
what is Imbolc?
Imbolc is a pagan Celtic festival that occurs at the peak of winter around 1 February, halfway between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox as harbingers of spring are slowly making themselves known. Imbolc is one of four cross-quarter fire festivals (‘cross-quarter’ because they mark seasonal peaks not beginnings as the Equinoxes and Solstices do) on the Wheel of the Year and is a time of purification so that new life can grow. Traditionally, Imbolc was an important agricultural marker as it signaled the start of lambing season. The festival is strongly associated with the solar goddess Brigid who was so popular in ancient Ireland that the Catholic Church appropriated her as Saint Brigid. In fact, 1 February is still celebrated as St. Brigid’s Day in Ireland where I normally observe this festival, but this year I’ve switched things up and am in Scotland, another land throbbing with Celtic lifeforce. Local lore relates that at this time the goddess of winter, the Cailleach, hands over to the goddess of light and fire, Brigid, so that she can thaw the earth in preparation for spring.
“[Imbolc] stands for growth in darkness and patience despite uncertainty. The air may be cold, but we know the Earth is warming, preparing to bear new life.”
-Fiona Cook, The Wheel of the Year
The Wheel of the Year
Stepping Out of the Darkness
Anyone who has gone through a hard time, I mean really hard, knows that just because things seem to be settling doesn’t mean we can switch off. When the body experiences acute stress, either because of trauma, working in high-stress environments, or going through a process like a house-move, losing a job, or a relationship ending, stress hormones linger in the blood until they’re discharged through interventions like therapy or dedicated stress reduction techniques, or until a long enough time has passed for them to leave the system. In many instances the nervous system will remain hypervigilant after a long stress response (fight/flight/freeze), a state in which safety does not feel safe because we’re always on alert for impending threats.
Switching off is not instantaneous
Let me explain why - neurologically and biologically - we can’t just relax after a difficult period in the same way a sprinter can’t just finish a race and go to sleep. In order to generate the energy required to function more productively than normal, a sprinter’s brain will flood their body with stress hormones including cortisol and adrenaline. This is a good example of how stress works to our benefit, and also an example of how chemical messengers are temporary in nature. A similar thing happens when we’re in stressful situations. After the body utilizes the performance hormones, it discharges them through a ritual called shaking off, and then returns to a rest-and-digest state.
Well, this is how it’s supposed to work, but society has decided it’s socially unacceptable to shake it off like a dog after a run-in with a snappy terrier (it’s no coincidence that we advise people to ‘shake it off’ when agitated). Instead, we hold onto those temporary hormones, storing them long-term which can lead to serious health issues like heart disease, insomnia, and stroke just to name a few. Most of us also work and live with chronic stress, meaning these temporary hormones aren’t temporary, they’re consistently being pumped into our blood.
The same (more or less) goes for when we’re in freeze states for long periods of time. How do you know if you’re in a long-term freeze state (called ‘functional freeze’)? Usually, we’re either exhausted but struggle to fall asleep or sleep constantly; compulsively scroll for hours or have multiple screens going at once because it’s difficult to focus on one thing at a time; procrastinate on important tasks; avoid social interactions; or feel utterly overwhelmed by even the smallest to-do list. It’s just not possible to hit the gas pedal and return to normal.
THE STRESS CONTINUUM
Even if we’re doing all the right things like seeing a therapist, exercising, reducing sources of stress, and sleeping, it can take months to recover from acute stress. If I could make people understand one thing about stress states it would be that it takes time to shift between them. If we think of the body, and specifically the nervous system, as a vertical continuum with fight/flight at the top, rest-and-digest in the middle (the optimal position), and freeze at the bottom, it’s easy to visualize how we can’t jump from one point to the next. Our bodies must slide up and down the continuum gradually.
For example, if we have an argument we may be in a highly activated fight state. From that place it’s necessary to cool down before going back. Maybe we go for a walk or call a friend to vent. This is part of sliding down the continuum to a more regulated rest-and-digest state. Likewise, if we’ve been in functional freeze for a while, say from a high-stress work environment or a bereavement, we need to gradually re-mobilize. It would be a terrible idea to go out and run after being on the sofa for days. From these states, it might be sufficient to try your best to get up and make a meal, take a shower, or put on a load of laundry. If that’s manageable, maybe going for a slow, easy walk would feel good. Slowly re-introducing movement and re-activation helps us slide up the scale from freeze to rest-and-digest.
WINTERS OF OUR LIVES
I think of these recovery periods as the winters of our lives; times when we’re no longer spinning tires but not yet able to relax. Times when we’re sliding up and down the scale, restoring a sense of regulation to our bodies. To me, Imbolc is a symbol of these winters. The days are still so dark and cold but we can also see signs of life returning.
Note: if the concept of stress responses being states we move between interests you, I recommend learning about Dr. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory!
Cautious Optimism
When we’re in the winters of our lives - in these seasons of recovery and shifting - it’s important to give ourselves time and space. In these periods, despite the promise of light returning, hope can be too much to expect of ourselves because hope makes us vulnerable, and many who are still reclaiming a sense of safety after experiencing acute stress, trauma, bereavement, or devastating disappointment aren’t yet ready to break themselves open.
Instead, I invite you to consider the idea of cautious optimism. Swirl that idea around your palate, how does it taste?
Cautious optimism demands no commitment. We can dip our toes into the sea of hope and run away if the water feels too deep and intense on that day. We can try again tomorrow. Maybe the sun will be warmer, maybe we’ll have slept better, maybe we’ll feel stronger. If not, that’s okay too. We can try again the next day, until it feels safe to go in past our knees, then our waist, and until we can dive under the waves with ease again, confident in our ability to recover if and when we get wiped out. As Katherine May says in her beautiful memoir, Wintering:
“We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again…Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.”
Next Steps
If you find yourself wintering and going through a period of recovery, wondering if you’ll ever be able to trust or feel hopeful again, feel free to schedule a no-commitment Discovery Session during which we can have a short chat about how how Integrated Therapy can serve you.