The Wolf Month
As the days lengthen the cold strengthens, as the old saying goes. January is a time of ice and snow, sleet and hail, bitter winds and biting rain. It is such a wild and threatening month that in the Anglo Saxon Chronicle January was called the Wul-manoth (“wolf month”) and in Scots Gaelic it was faoilteach or faoilleach, which means both “wild” and “wolf.” For the Lakota Sioux of the Eastern USA, the month of January was the period of the hardship moon, and the Germans once called it the hard month.2 It was a cruel month for our ancestors, with short hours of daylight, frozen and unyielding ground, no fresh food, and the weather preventing both work and travel. It is still a hard month for wildlife, and for many creatures, especially small birds, finding enough food to survive takes up almost every hour of daylight.
In January we are deep in the winter season of the Crone Goddess, who comes into her full power during the twelve days of Yule, accompanied by various spiteful winter spirits. In some German-speaking regions, in the spirit of Yuletide misrule, guisers dress up as the host of Perchta, the winter hag, in horned wooden masks with snouts and beaks and black sheepskins or hoods of badger or bear fur. They take part in processions and ecstatic dances, blowing horns, clashing symbols and bells, threatening bad children and rewarding good ones. The Perchten run through the streets with glowing embers in their mouths, as if breathing fire. They rush into houses to “clean” them and chase the shrieking children. The guisers claim the offerings that have been set out for Perchta.3 They appear alone or in groups, especially on three specific winter nights, called the “rough nights”: the Eve of St. Nicholas, the Eve of the Winter Solstice, and before Epiphany. They carry bells and other loud instruments to dispel winter. It is believed that the quality and abundance of the next harvest, as well as the wellbeing of the people, are dependent on the performances of the Perchten.
Our modern calendar is based on the old Roman one, which ordered the months from January to December from about 700 BCE. The Romans called the first month Januarius after the god Janus (“door”), the two-faced god who simultaneously looked back to the past and forward to the future and presided over all beginnings and endings, movement and change.4 He was considered the initiator of all things and was worshipped not just at the New Year but at the beginning of any enterprise, such as the harvest and planting times, marriages, deaths, and other commencements. In Rome any rite or religious act began with an invocation of Janus and finished with an invocation to Vesta, the hearth goddess.
Though the days are cold and dark, we passed the shortest day in December, with the rebirth of the Sun at Yule, and though we know that January and February will be the coldest, wettest, and windiest of the year, we can comfort ourselves that, inch by inch, minute by precious minute, the days are gradually getting longer. This is not really very noticeable until Imbolc, but it is happening. The Sun Child, born at Yule, is growing and gaining strength.
January is the time for the comfort of the hearth fire’s warmth, hearty food, and curtains shut tight against the cold and dark. It’s a time to withdraw from the hustle and bustle of the busy warmer months and let the direction of the coming year emerge. January brings a whole new year yet to unfold, full of possibilities for the next twelve months. The rituals of January are concerned with setting the tone for the coming year with acts of sympathetic magic, banishing the baneful spirits of the darkest days, and waking up the land in preparation for the return to work on it.
Early January
January 1: New Year’s Day
We still celebrate New Year’s Day as an important holiday and a day of firsts. Its ancient customs have persisted into the modern age—a firm break with the past and the previous year must be made, and all tasks must be finished before the New Year begins. In the past, everything done or seen on New Year’s Day was considered to have a magical or symbolic significance, and it was important to begin the year as you meant to go on. This included feasting well to ensure food for the coming year, not starting the year as a debtor, and not giving anything away, which would mean giving your luck away. No substance of any kind was allowed to be removed from the house on New Year’s Day—not even dirty water, sweepings from the floor, or ashes from the hearth. One of the unluckiest things to do was give a neighbour fire from your hearth, which would ensure a death within that family during the coming year.
In ancient Rome, in celebrations that might still seem entirely familiar to us today, the Kalends (first day) of January were celebrated with singing and dancing all night long in the streets, with men wearing women’s clothes and people wearing masks and disguises. Libanius, the famous Greek sophist of the fourth century CE, wrote:
The festival of the Kalends is celebrated everywhere as far as the limits of the Roman Empire extend.…Everywhere may be seen carousals and well-laden tables; luxurious abundance is found in the houses of the rich, but also in the houses of the poor better food than usual is put upon the table. The impulse to spend seizes everyone. He who the whole year through has taken pleasure in saving and piling up his pence, becomes suddenly extravagant.5
The Christians took a dim view of this continuation of Pagan customs. Caesarius of Arles (sixth century CE) castigated that
the heathen put on counterfeit forms and monstrous faces.…Some are clothes in the hides of cattle, others put on the heads of beasts…furthermore those who have been born men are clothed in women’s dress…blushing not to clothe their warlike arms in women’s garments…6
Even priests were accused of wearing masks, dressing as women, and singing lewd songs.
Because it was the start of a whole new year, it was a day for taking omens. In the eleventh century, Buchard of Worms wrote:
Have you celebrated the calends of January according to pagan customs?…to wit: arranging stones on your table or giving a feast, leading dancers or singers through the streets and squares, taking a seat upon your roof while wearing your sword in order to see and know what will happen in the new year, sitting atop of a bull’s hide where the roads cross to read the future, on the night of January 1 cooking bread for yourself to know whether the new year will be prosperous according to whether the dough rises? If yes, because you have abandoned God your creator, and have turned to vain idols and become apostate, you will fast on all the official days for two years.7
Divinations continued to be widely practiced into very recent times. In Lithuania on New Year’s Eve, nine separate bread rolls, each with a different item (tokens representing money, a cradle, bread, a ring, a death’s head, an old man, an old woman, a ladder, a key), were baked into dough and laid beneath nine plates, and everyone had three grabs at them. Whatever he or she got would be their lot during the year. Germans put a leaf of periwinkle on a plate filled with water, and if it remained green until the following night, good health was assured for the coming year. If it stained, though, it meant illness; if it turned black, death would follow. In Macedonia St. Basil’s cake was baked with a silver coin in it. The person who found the coin in his or her piece would prosper during the year. On the Isle of Man, it was a custom to fill a thimble with salt and upset it on a plate, one thimbleful for each person in the house. This was put aside for the night and examined the next morning. If any of the heaps of salt had fallen over, that person would die in the coming year.
In Britain, in the spirit of ensuring prosperity for the coming year with sympathetic magic, gifts were once given at New Year’s rather than Christmas.8 Children in West Glamorgan went from house to house with good wishes for the New Year, carrying apples stuck full of corn, variously coloured and decorated with a sprig of evergreen.9 For the same reason, on the Scottish borders, care was taken that no one entered a house empty-handed on New Year’s Day; in England a visitor had to bring something to eat or drink. Romanians threw handfuls of corn at one another with some appropriate greeting, such as:
May you live
May you flourish
Like apple trees
Like pear trees
In springtime
Like wealthy autumn
Of all things plentiful.10
In Russia corn sheaves were piled upon a table and in the midst of them was set a large pie. The father of the family took his seat behind the sheaves and asked his children if they could see him. When they replied in the negative, he would declare that he hoped the corn would grow as high in his fields so that he would be just as invisible when he walked there at harvest time.
On the first day of the New Year, the first drawn water from a well or spring gained magical properties. A Highland practice was to send someone on the last night of the year to draw a pitcher of water in silence and without the vessel touching the ground. The water was drunk on New Year’s morning as a charm against witchcraft and the evil eye. At Bromyard in Herefordshire it was the custom at midnight on New Year’s Eve to rush to the nearest spring to snatch the “cream of the well” (the first pitcher of water) and with it the prospect of the best luck. In Pembrokeshire early on New Year’s morning, crowds of boys went round the neighbourhood with a vessel of cold spring water, and using a twig of box, rosemary, or myrtle, they would sprinkle the hands and faces of anyone they met in return for a copper or two.11
Rite of New Beginnings
The infant Sun God, reborn at winter solstice, has spent twelve days growing and gaining strength. Until this day all has been uncertain, but now he is strong enough to battle the cold and darkness and start to bring back light and warmth. We are ready to start the New Year, and it is time to let go of the past—the old year and all its problems—and look forward.
Spend some time meditating on what you need to leave behind with the old year and what your goals are for the new year. What do you want to learn and achieve? What could you do to make your life better? Write these New Year’s goals down in a short list.
Prepare an apple stuck with wheat, barley, or some other grain and sprigs of bay and rosemary. Tie it with a red ribbon. This is a symbol of love, wholeness, and prosperity.
Have ready an incense composed of frankincense grains and juniper berries or needles (or a few drops of juniper essential oil) and a charcoal block to burn it on, in a dish on a heatproof mat. Place a feather beside it. Put two white candles on your altar.
Light the candles and the charcoal. Say:
Lord and Lady, on this day of endings and beginnings,
On this the first day of the first month of the year, I honour you.
At this time of change and transition, I call upon you.
As I stand on the threshold of the year, I invoke you.
Sprinkle the incense onto the charcoal. Using the feather, waft the smoke over yourself as an act of purification, saying:
Let me be cleansed of the past
Open the west door and let the old year go!
Think about what you want to release—bad habits, negativity, toxic relationships, and so on, and let them drift away. Visualise the past flowing away behind you, taking all its ills with it.
Take up the apple. Say:
Let me make a prosperous new beginning
Open the east door and let the New Year in!
Visualise your future streaming towards you, full of possibilities, prosperity, and joy. Take up your list of goals and read them out loud in the presence of the Lord and Lady. If you wish, you can perform divinations after reading out your goals and make this part of the ritual, seeking guidance through the tarot, runes, or whichever method you prefer.
When you are ready to close, say:
Lord and Lady, witness that I begin anew.
Be with me, lighting my path and guiding my feet.
This rite is ended. Blessed be.
Put out the candles.
January 3: Honouring the Household Deities
In the depths of winter, we spend more time in our houses, relying on their shelter to keep us safe and cosy. It is important to honour the spirit of your home at all times of year, but especially now. When you think of your home as having an indwelling spirit, it can make a huge difference to the quality of life within it. Every house has its own spirit—what we detect as an atmosphere when we enter it. This was really brought home to me recently when the coven rented a holiday cottage for a spiritual retreat. The place had been unsympathetically renovated to accommodate as many people as possible and seemed atmospherically and spiritually dead when we arrived. We started to make offerings to the house spirit with food from each meal (which was later emptied outside for the birds) and we lit candles and spoke to the household spirits. Within two days, the house woke up and started to take notice, and we were warmly welcomed; the withdrawn house began to enjoy having us there and became positively cheerful.
A belief in house spirits is very ancient. In Persia and China it was always the custom to make offerings to the house spirit before entering a dwelling, while a similar custom in northern Europe involved taking bread and salt when visiting a home.12 The Romans honoured protective spirits called Lares. The Lar Familiaris (“household lar”) was given monthly offerings of garlands placed on the hearth as well as daily offerings at mealtimes. They also had an annual feast called the Compitalia that was celebrated at this time of year, which gave rise to some of our Christmas customs, such as the use of lights.
Honouring the House Spirits
For the ancients, the hearth was also the altar of the household gods, where offerings could be made. You can use your mantelpiece as an altar—many people do—or you can make a small shrine or niche with a representation of your house spirit. Offer a small portion of each meal with the simple words “House spirit, I honour you.” Put this food out for the birds later. Light a candle at your chosen place with the same words. On special occasions, honour your house spirit with a garland on the hearth or shrine.
January 5: Twelfth Night
Twelfth Night (January 5) and Twelfth Day (January 6) are generally considered to be the ending of the Christmas season. Today most people just think of it as the time to take down the Christmas decorations, but in the past it was a major festival surrounded by its own myths and customs. It was a time for one last fling with games, dressing up, and plays, all managed by the Lord of Misrule, who held sway during the season of Yule and the twelve days that followed it. The Tudor court held huge feasts, while in Victorian England the shops were open late, selling cakes decorated with stars, castles, lions, dragons, kings, knights, and serpents painted onto white icing. The king and queen of the feast were chosen by a concealed ring or a pea and bean hidden in the cake.13
It was both a propitious and a dangerous time, standing between the holiday period and the return to work, between winter and the coming of spring, between the old and new year. Any such liminal time is surrounded by taboos and propitiations. In many places bonfires were lit, sometimes thirteen fires, one for each of the twelve days of Christmas and a thirteenth, called the Judas Fire, which was put out during the proceedings to extinguish any negativity that might attach to the coming year.14
Many of the customs of Twelfth Night concern the Crone or Hag Goddess, who rules the winter quarter of the year, like the German Perchta, to whom this night is sacred and who was placated with houses decorated with evergreens and food left out for her on Twelfth Night.15 If she was pleased, she would leave small presents and treats for the children.
Twelfth Night and Twelfth Day was the time to expel the winter spirits of chaos and bane and send them back to the underworld in a ritual battle between the forces of growth and summer and the forces of death and winter. The malicious Greek Kallikantzaroi appear during the twelve days, and the signal for their final departure comes on Twelfth Night with the Kalanda festival, when the Blessing of the Waters ceremony takes place. Some holy water is put into vessels, and with these and incense the priests make a round of the village, sprinkling the people and their houses, which makes the winter spirits flee.
2¼ pounds mixed dried sultanas, raisins, and currants
2 ounces mixed peel
¼ pint whiskey
¼ pint milk
12 ounces butter
12 ounces muscavado sugar
4 eggs, beaten
1 pound, 4 ounces plain flour
1 level tablespoon baking powder
2 level teaspoons mixed spice
2 ounces glacé cherries
2 ounces chopped walnuts
Place the dried fruit and peel in a bowl. Stir in the whiskey and milk, cover, and leave overnight. Heat the oven to 140°C/275°F/gas mark 1. Oil a large tin (approximately 12 inches × 10 inches) and line the base and sides with greaseproof paper. Brush the paper with oil. Cream the butter and sugar, add the beaten eggs a little at a time. If the mixture curdles, add a little flour. Sift the flour, baking powder, and spice, and fold into the creamed mixture. Add the fruit, nuts, and whiskey/milk mixture. Stir well. Turn into the tin. Bake in the centre of the oven for 2¼ to 2½ hours. Leave to cool in the tin. Turn out and remove the paper. If you really must, you can sprinkle more whiskey on top. The cake can be iced and decorated with stars, ribbons, wheat ears, nuts, and glacé fruit.
January 6: Epiphany
In the Christian calendar this is the Feast of the Epiphany, latterly said to mark the visit of the wise men to the infant Jesus, though in some sections of the early church it was considered Christ’s birthday. St. Epiphanius of Salamis (c. 315–403 CE) wrote that January 6 was Christ’s epiphany (“appearance”):
Christ was born on the sixth day of January after thirteen days of the winter solstice and of the increase of the light and day…For on the twenty-fifth day of December the division takes place which is the solstice, and the day begins to lengthen its light, receiving an increase, and there are thirteen days of it up to the sixth day of January, until the day of the birth of Christ…for it needs must have been that this should be a figure of our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and of His twelve disciples, who made up the number of the thirteen days of the increase of the light.16
However, this day was previously celebrated as the birth—or epiphany—of the vegetation and vine god Dionysus. Indeed, Epiphanius complained that
the leaders of the idol-cults…in many places keep highest festival on this same night of Epiphany…at Alexandria, in the Koreion as it is called—an immense temple—that is to say, the Precinct of the Virgin; after they have kept all-night vigil with songs and music, chanting to their idol, when the vigil is over, at cockcrow, they descend with lights into an underground crypt, and carry up a wooden image lying naked on a litter…And they carry round the image itself, circumambulating seven times the innermost temple, to the accompaniment of pipes, tabors and hymns, and with merry-making they carry it down again underground. And if they are asked the meaning of this mystery, they answer and say: “To-day at this hour the Maiden, that is, the Virgin, gave birth to the Aion.”17
Aion or Aeon was a syncretic god, usually identified as Dionysus but also containing elements of Cronos, Osiris, and Apollo, worshipped in multicultural Alexandria. Aion was a god of time, the revolutions of the stars and the zodiac, eternity, and the afterlife.18 He was generally depicted as a young man but also as an old man who sloughs off age to become young again—an image of a god (or year) reborn annually and one we still use in depictions of the old year as an ancient man and the new year as a babe.
Like other feast days around this period, Epiphany was widely associated with the winter crone. In Carinthia it was called Berchtentag19 after the hag Bechta, and in Italy the hag goddess of the twelve nights is Befana, her name a corruption of Epiphania (“epiphany”). Though her role has largely been taken over by Santa Claus in modern Italy, she was once the yuletide gift-bringer. Sicilians especially honoured Befana, also called la Strega (“the witch”) or la Vecchia (“the old woman”). Befana descended from the mountains, riding on her broom, and entered houses through the chimneys, leaving presents for children. Children left notes for her in the chimney. For those children who had been naughty, she left only coal (shops sold carbone, a sweet that looks like coal) or a birch rod (to be spanked with). Witch-like images of Befana were placed in the windows of houses and there were processions through the streets. Singers serenaded houses where cloth images of Befana were placed in the windows or carried her image from house to house while carolling. The Befana dolls were afterwards burned, probably in token of the passing of the old year. Omens were taken from the fire; if the smoke blew towards the east, it was an indication that the harvest would be good. If the smoke blew towards the west, it would be poor.
The rites of the Epiphany signal that the darkest time has ended.
Hag Goddess Ritual
I shall be honouring the winter witch Goddess tonight, decorating my altar with evergreens and my witchy dolls and lighting a candle to her, saying:
Hag Goddess, who comes at twilight
With your wind-shredded clothes and witch’s hat
All hail to you! This is your season,
And I give you due honour.
January 7: The Return to Work
In the past, women returned to their spinning duties on the first day after the twelve days of Christmas, or St. Distaff”s Day. It was a sign that the festive period was over and things were back to normal. It is also called “Rock Day,” with rock being an alternative name for the spindle or distaff. St. Distaff is not a real saint, and the term is something of a joke.
The men did not return to work until after Plough Monday, the traditional start of the agricultural year falling on the first Monday after Twelfth Night. References to Plough Monday date back to the late fifteenth century. In some areas, particularly in northern England and East Anglia, the plough might be blessed at the church, then dragged from house to house throughout the village in a procession with the ploughmen collecting money, a necessary seasonal supplement to income when there was no work on the land. If anyone refused to contribute, they might find their front gardens ploughed up. The ploughmen were often accompanied by musicians and winter characters like the Hag, a boy dressed as an old woman called the Bessy, and a man in the role of the fool, who wore animal skins, a hairy cap, and had an animal tail hanging from his back.
Ritual for Returning the Corn Dolly to the Earth
This is the time to return the corn dolly—the spirit of vegetation that the coven made at the autumn equinox—to the earth. I go out into the garden, dig a small hole, lay the corn dolly in it, and say:
The light is returning and spring will come
Let life return to the earth.
I cover up the corn dolly with soil, then say:
Blessed be.
Mid-January
January 17: Old Twelfth Night Wassailing
This is one of the traditional days (along with Twelfth Night, Twelfth Day, and Old Twelfth Day) for wassailing the orchards, waking up the spirit of vegetation and the land itself, and energising the move towards spring.
Today, most people think of wassailing only in connection with toasting the apple orchards. However, in the past wassailing was a widespread custom associated with wishing health to people, crops, and animals; apple trees were wassailed to make them bear fruit, and even bees were wassailed to make them produce more honey. Cattle were toasted to keep them healthy; the prize cow was given a special cake with a hole in the middle (a symbol of the sun) and regaled with the words:
Fill your cups, my merry men all!
For here’s the best ox in the stall!
Oh, he is the best ox; of that there’s no mistake,
And so let us crown him with the Twelfth cake!
The cake was hooked over one of its horns. In parts of Scotland, the sea was similarly honoured, with ale poured into the waves in the hope that this would encourage good fishing in the coming year.20
Wassailing the orchards usually involved either the landowner or specially selected bands of wassailers visiting the orchard at night, selecting the oldest or most fruitful tree (known in Somerset as the Apple Tree Man) to represent the whole orchard. The tree might be beaten with sticks in order to wake it up after its winter sleep. Bread or cakes soaked in cider would be placed in the tree’s branches and the wassail song sung, then loud noises made to frighten winter spirits away from the orchard.
The word wassail comes from the Anglo-Saxon phrase Wæs hal, which was used as a greeting. Wæs means “to be” and hal means “hale” or “whole.” The greeting often accompanied the welcoming of a guest with a cup of ale or mead, and so became a toast (the correct response to which is drinc hale, meaning “I drink to your good health”) and eventually wassailing, the act of toasting someone or something on special occasions with spiced ale, cider, or wine.
In the coven we see it as the last of our three rituals of the Yuletide season that finally closes the barren winter cycle and brings back the energy of growth into the land. We tap the apple tree three times to wake it up, pour cider onto its roots, and put apple cake or toast into its branches to honour it. It’s a very joyful occasion when we wear garlands of ivy and bang drums to banish all the spirits of winter bane before passing around the wassail cup full of spiced cider or apple wine—at which point it gets even merrier. We take it in turns to host the event; some of us only have one apple or pear tree, others several. If you don’t have fruit trees of your own, perhaps you can get together with friends who do or even perform the ritual in a local orchard or park where fruit trees grow. Wassailing ceremonies are becoming more and more popular, even among non-Pagans.
Wassailing Ritual
The ritual is carried out in the fruit orchard. Wear a garland of ivy. Choose the largest and most productive tree on the plot to stand for all the rest. Tap the trunk of the tree three times to wake it up with your wand, and say:
Apples and pears with right good corn
Come in plenty to everyone.
Eat good cake and drink hot ale
Give to the earth and she’ll not fail!
Place the cake in the main fork of the tree. The wassail drink is thrown three times at the roots of the tree with the chant:
Here’s to thee, old apple tree!
Whence thou may’st bud
And whence thou may’st blow
Hats full! Caps full! Bushel-bags full!
And pockets full too!
The wassail bowl is recharged, and all drink to the health of the orchard as you say “Wassail!” Drums and musical instruments are played to wake up the spirits of vegetation and drive away the spirits of winter.
You can then take a burning brand and carry it around the property to infuse the spirit of warmth and fire into the earth, purifying it and bringing luck for the coming year. Everyone gathers around the fire and refills the wassail bowl for a final toast of “wassail.”
2¼ pints hard cider
3 apples, peeled, cored, and grated
2 ounces brown sugar
½ teaspoon ground ginger
grated nutmeg
Put a ¼ pint of cider in a pan and add the grated apples. Cook until the apples are soft and add the brown sugar, ginger, and the other 2 pints of cider. Heat through but do not allow to boil. To serve, add some grated nutmeg and pour into a large cup or bowl.
100 grams butter
225 grams self-raising flour
pinch of salt
225 grams apples, peeled, cored, and finely chopped
100 grams sugar
1 egg, beaten
milk
Using your fingertips, rub the butter into the flour and salt until it resembles breadcrumbs. Add the apples and sugar, then mix in the egg and enough milk to make a stiff dough. Pour into an 8-inch tin and bake at 190°C/375°F/gas mark 5 for 45 minutes.
Late January
Now we enter the sign of Aquarius, the water bearer, who pours out a trickle of stars into the mouth of Piscis Austrinus, the southern fish.21 The constellation is found in a region of the sky often called “the sea” as many watery constellations are found there, including Eridanus the river, Cetus the whale, and Pisces the fishes.
The Greeks saw the constellation as Ganymede, the cup bearer to the god Zeus, who stole the youth away after becoming captivated by his beauty, or they associated it with Deucalion, the son of Prometheus who built a ship to survive a great flood.22 The constellation was certainly associated with floods and water in general; in Babylonian lore it was connected with Ea, god of water and wisdom, commonly depicted holding an overflowing vase, who ruled the southernmost quarter of the sun’s path through the zodiac called the Way of Ea, corresponding to the period of 45 days on either side of winter solstice. (Pisces contained the winter solstice in the Early Bronze Age.)23
The ancient Egyptians thought that it represented Hapi, the god of the Nile, whose annual flooding brought fertility when Aquarius put his jar into the river, which marked the beginning of spring.
The Winter Blues
While I long for spring, the long, dark hours and the wintry weather of January is taking its toll in my house, with seasonal coughs and colds and dry, chapped skin, as well as a touch of the January blues now that the festive period is over, so I am making up a batch of seasonal remedies.
7 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons runny honey
6 tablespoons beeswax, grated
In a double boiler, warm the oil and honey together; do not boil. Remove from the heat and stir in the beeswax until it has melted. Pour into small pots and seal.
Put the juice from one lemon (rich in vitamin C) into a cup and top up with boiling water. Add a couple teaspoons of honey, which has antiviral properties, before drinking.
Winter can be slightly depressing, and a cup of this can help lift your mood.
1 teaspoon lemon balm
1 teaspoon camomile
pinch of saffron
1 cup boiling water
Combine the herbs and put into a teapot. Cover with the boiling water and leave to infuse for 10 minutes. Strain into a cup and sweeten with honey.
January 31: Imbolc Eve
Winter certainly makes me appreciate my hearth fire all the more, but it had an even greater importance for our ancestors. Imagine frozen, blustery winter days, when there was little work that could be done on the land, when the hours of daylight were short and the nights long. Fire meant the difference between survival and death, between comfort and cold pain. It was the centre of activity, where everyone gathered to eat and cook, sit and warm themselves, and talk and listen to the stories of the bards.
Nowadays, most people do not have a big open fire where they cook and sit in the evenings. This doesn’t matter; remember that the hearth is a symbol for the hospitality and living spirit of the home. By connecting with the energies of the hearth, you can invite ancient magic into your life and learn to make your home a happier, more attractive place, whether you are living in a bedsit in the middle of the city or a pretty cottage in the countryside. The principle is the same. It is a refuge, a place of worship, the shrine of the sacred flame, and a celebration of life. You can use candles and oil lamps instead of a fire to symbolise the living flame that embodies the presence of the Hearth Goddess.
The Goddess of hearth and fire dwells within every hearth, whether large or small, and she is known in every culture and always served by women. In many places the Hearth Goddess has a special feast day at this time. In Greek myth the Hearth Goddess was called Hestia; she refused a throne on Olympus to look after the hearth and never took part in the wars and arguments of the gods. Instead she is the calm centre, the safe haven of the home, where people can seek refuge and shelter. She is the gentlest and most principled of all the gods, representing security and the solemn duty of hospitality presiding over all hearth and altar fires. In Rome she was called Vesta, the virgin fire goddess worshipped in a state cult and in private households every day. In Celtic lore she is Brighid, a pan-Celtic goddess, appearing as Brighid or Brigit in Ireland, Brigantia in Northern England, Bride in Scotland, and Brigandu in Brittany. She was converted into a Christian saint, and within living memory in Ireland, the fire was kindled with invocations to Brighid by the woman of every house. In Lithuania the Hearth Goddess was Gabija, whose name means “to cover up” and refers to the practice of the mistress of the house banking the fire at night so that it will neither go out nor spread from the hearth. She was invoked at all family rituals and occasions since without her they would not be possible. Like Brighid, she had special festivals at the beginning of February dedicated to the renewal of the hearth fire and the household gods.
Tomorrow we will celebrate the festival of Imbolc as the festival of the Goddess of the hearth fire, but I honour her each day when I light my fire:
Hearth Goddess, I honour you.
Bring your presence in the living flame into my home
And bless me with your gifts of light and warmth.
If you have no fire, light a candle on your mantelpiece or altar to bring the Hearth Goddess, in the form of a living flame, into your home and into your heart.
2. Nilsson, Primitive Time-Reckoning.
3. Max Dashu, The Tregenda of the Old Goddess, Witches, and Spirits, http://www.suppressedhistories.net/secrethistory/witchtregenda.html.
4. Franz Altheim, A History of Roman Religion (London: Methuen, 1938).
5. Quoted in Miles, Christmas in Ritual and Tradition.
6. Quoted in Matthews, The Winter Solstice.
7. Quoted in Walter, Christianity.
8. Kightly, The Customs and Ceremonies of Britain.
9. Gentleman’s Magazine, March 1819.
10. Miles, Christmas in Ritual and Tradition.
11. Owen, Welsh Folk Customs.
12. Eric Maple, “The House,” Man, Myth and Magic (Leeds: BPC Publishing, 1970).
13. Brewers Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, Blitz Editions (Leicester, 1990) and http://www.pepysdiary.com.
14. Roud, The English Year.
15. Miles, Christmas in Ritual and Tradition.
16. The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis (trans. Frank Williams), online at https://archive.org/stream/EpiphaniusPanarionBksIIIII1/Epiphanius%20-%20_Panarion_%20-%20Bks%20II%20%26%20III%20-%201_djvu.txt, accessed 9.1.20.
17. Ibid. and Hugo Rahner, Greek Myths and Christian Mystery (Biblo-Moser, 1963).
18. http://hermeticmagick.com/content/deities/aion.html.
19. Ibid.
20. Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica.
21. Krupp, Beyond the Blue Horizon.
22. Robert Bruce Thompson & Barbara Fritchman Thompson, Illustrated Guide to Astronomical Wonders (O’Reilly Media, 2007).
23. Hugh Thurston, Early Astronomy (Springer Series in Statistics, 1993).