Pledging to Brigid, Remembering to Remember Before Fire and Water

Pledging to Brigid, Remembering to Remember Before Fire and Water January 26, 2019

One of my favorite rituals of the year is Brigid (as is often, though not always, celebrated in Reclaiming). I love the promise of spring and the moment at the well where I run my fingers through fire and dip my fingers into water from around the world before making a pledge to Her.

(Which I promptly forget.)

I know this happens. I know that I will have this glorious, shifting moment at the well, with the whole community watching. I often say my pledge aloud so it can be witnessed, and it still slips from between my fingers before I make it home.

Not this year.

Really.

Andreas F. Borchert / 2013 / Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Germany license

By Fire, By Water, By Heart

I don’t know what I’m going to pledge before I get to the ritual. I let the magick of the trance (often) take me to the places I need to go. I watch for clues and hits and tingly feelings on my neck.

I listen.

I watch the waters of the world drop into the well. I watch the way the light of the faery fire lights up faces. I look at the deep communion that happens when a person is ready to make their pledge in front of community.

And I hold the sacred stillness that comes after the anvil clangs after each pledge.

In this moment, early in the morning, I am tapping into the feeling that last year’s ritual brought up in me. I remember talking about my heart as I stood at the water. As I stood at the well reflecting on a year of grief.

And in this very moment, I remembered my pledge.

Well, I remembered where I put it.

Brigid Watches Over

I have an altar to Brigid, in my bathroom, by the sink or modern-day well. She is standing with sheep and there are offerings at her feet. Her image is sharp, but her face is soft. Beside her is a bottle of water from the well at Kildare from a beloved one, as well as an oil to St. Brigid.

And beneath her, on a yellow post-it note, is the pledge I made last year.

I wrote it down (!)

I pledge to live with a wide open heart, to heal, and to help others heal.

I could tell you how I have lived up to this pledge this year, how even when pledges are just whispers of what-the-heck-did-I-say-again, they made it into my bones. They made it into my movements and decisions.

But for now, I’m going to spend the days leading up to Brigid thinking about how I have held my pledge(s). And I am going to offer gratitude to Brigid for holding me too.

For holding my pledge right where it was, right where I needed it to be. Steady and safe and certain.

I guess, I really never do lose my way to the well of her memory.

Brigid Blessings to you!

(If you pledge, keep it in a safe place. Remember it. Return to it.)

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