I have already broken one of my New Year’s resolutions. I intended to celebrate every Sabbat equally in 2012. Yet Imbolc has come and gone, and I honestly did very little to celebrate it. I don’t even really feel regret at skipping past the holiday uncelebrated. As I sit here and consider Imbolc, I have to admit that I don’t really care about it.
I want to care about Imbolc. I’ve put a lot of effort into psyching myself up and getting excited about Imbolc. I’ve tried to plumb it’s meaning. I’ve tried to seek it’s wisdom. But I just don’t care.
It seems to me that if the eight spokes of the Wheel of the Year are equal, they should be celebrated equally. Imbolc shouldn’t pass with a murmur and Yule with fanfare. All things should be equal. Many Wiccans have argued that all Sabbats are equal and that they are all celebrated equally, even when this is obviously not the case. I like the ideal that all the Sabbats are equal, even when my soul tells me different.
As I sit here and look over the moon Goddesses and solar Gods adorning my shelves, the fact that I could care less about Imbolc doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. This morning I’m sitting here thinking about how much more useful it would be to put my energy into things that matter to me, and Imbolc clearly doesn’t.
My focus is more on my life, than on the greater changes in nature around me. My relationship to nature is how it affects me. Lactating ewes and tree sap don’t affect my life. Maybe that may seem selfish, but right now, in this time and place, it feels right.