As I watch the wind pelting the rain against my window, Spring seems like a million miles away, and yet, despite the raging storm, there is a shift in the temperature and the energy of the world outside that is quite palpable. Here in the UK, pagans are preparing for Imbolc, the Gaelic agricultural/fire festival marking the arrival of Spring. Thus, this month’s blog is devoted to Imbolc – its origins and history and how we can celebrate if we choose to do so. Imbolc, currently celebrated on February 1st or 2nd, is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals, along with Samhain, Bealtaine and Lughnasa. It is associated with the beginning of spring, the lactation of ewes, and the Irish goddess Brigid and her Christian counterpart, St Brigid of Kildare. But is Imbolc truly an ancient festival or a more modern invention? Let’s take a look at some of the evidence.
Evidence for Imbolc as an ancient festival
Several ancient Irish texts refer to Imbolc as a seasonal festival. The four main festivals of the Irish year are neatly set out in the Irish tale The Wooing of Emer by Cù Chulainn. The festival is described as a time for feasting and invocations to Brigid for protection and prosperity. Before he was permitted to wed Emer, Cù Chulainn had to perform a variety of tests, one of which was to deprive himself of sleep from ‘Samhain, when the summer goes to its rest, until Imbolc, when the ewes are milked at spring’s beginning; from Imbolc until Beltine at the summer’s beginning, and from Beltine to Bron Trogain, the earth’s sorrowing in autumn.’ But how ‘ancient’ is this reference?
If we are looking for a pre-Christian connection, we may be disappointed. Academic expert in Irish literature Kuno Meyer dated the surviving manuscript to the 10th century, well into the Medieval period and some 600 years since the dawn of Christianity. In the Leabhar Gabhàla (a pseudo-historical Medieval Irish text documenting the various peoples of Ireland), both Imbolc and Lughnasa appear as minor feasts, but have no ancient significance attached to them. Several ancient Irish texts refer to Imbolc as a seasonal festival. The Tochmarc Emire, an Old Irish narrative thought to date back to the 7th or 8th century CE, refers to Brigid the goddess visiting Dubthach on the feast day of Imbolc. Additionally, the medieval Irish text Sanas Chormaic mentions the customs of Imbolc, such as the lighting of fires and the weaving of Brigid’s crosses, rituals which have continued to be practiced in modern times.
The figure most commonly associated with Imbolc is, of course, the Irish goddess, Brigid. In ancient Irish mythology, Brigid was the daughter of the Dagda and one of the legendary Tuatha Dé Danann. She was a goddess associated with poetry, healing, smithcraft and fertility. Medieval Imbolc celebrations focused on the lighting of fires and purification rituals, and this symbolism connected strongly to Brigid in her role as a goddess of the hearth fire and the forge of the Smith. Brigid was also heavily associated with cattle, as mythology tells us she was fed on the milk of otherworldly cows, and her own cows were later milked three times a day, such was their abundance of milk. Imbolc itself is a word that likely translates to ‘lacatation of sheep’, so the connection to milk is important.
Brigid is very much associated with springtime awakening and fertility of the land. Imbolc marked the time when ewes came into milk, a key sign of spring's arrival, thus linking it to Brigid and her connections to milk. In some texts, Brigid is described as presiding over the feast of Imbolc and receiving offerings from people during the festival. The Christian Saint Brigid was said to be the midwife of Christ, which connected to Imbolc's symbolism of birthing the year's first new lambs, as Jesus is often referred to as ‘the lamb’. In her incarnation as Saint Brigid, she was also thought to visit households on Imbolc eve to bless them.
In Irish legendary history, Brigid was said to have owned a magical mantle or cloak. The mantle was believed to have the power to heal, protect, and multiply food and resources. When spread over the ground, it could produce a never-ending bounty of food. According to some tales, the mantle could fly through the air and whistled as it went. It provided food and shelter to the poor and the sick who needed it. The mantle was thought to change with the seasons, turning green in summer and white in winter. It symbolised Brigid's role as a fertility goddess tied to the cycles of nature.
In Christian times, the magical mantle was transformed into the reputed veil or robe worn by Saint Brigid and was believed to retain its miraculous powers. Pieces of fabric and cloth purported to be remnants of the original mantle were highly valued as holy relics in medieval Ireland and Europe. Many blessings and healing rituals involved brushing the afflicted area with a piece of ‘Brigid's mantle.’ The cloth pieces were also used to protect houses from fire. In some folk tales, Brigid lends her magical mantle to other characters in need, showing her compassion. The mantle functions as a symbol of her divine aid and benevolence. Modern pagans sometimes incorporate symbolic mantles or cloaks into Imbolc rituals in Brigid's honour.
I did happen upon a tantalising snippet of information during my research for this blog which connects the spring festival and ideas of lactation with the Irish and Scottish spirit Cailleach. It is said, that in ancient times, a hag, a Cailleach – with the precise connotations of otherworldly, ancestral connections, lived in Co Kerry in Ireland, in a valley called Gleann na mBiorach (Valley of the Horned Herds). Cattle and deer and the Cailleach are strongly associated in Irish and Scottish folklore, and in Scotland, many legends exist that name the Cailleach as a Deer-Goddess, a personification of the life of wild horned animals, whose presence very much animates the Highland landscape. In Ireland, an ancient connection existed between Cailleach and cattle, as the name of Ireland’s most sacred river, the Boyne/An Bòinn (‘White Cow’), suggests.
Evidence of the hag/goddess and her divine influence over domestic cattle and sheep in the Irish tradition, connects to the symbolism of milk and butter associated with Imbolc. Milk and butter represented the first fresh food after the lean times of winter and possibly symbolised the land returning to being a nourishing, nurturing presence after her period as bringer of death and darkness. So perhaps we have found a Scottish link to Imbolc. It is certainly worth considering, and I will be diving deeper there in the coming months.
A popular misconception is that the four Gaelic festivals were a pan-Celtic phenomena, but it seems that the evidence for this is inconclusive. The early literature of Wales ascribes no importance to the 1st of November/August/February. The attributes celebrated by the Irish at Samhain seem to have been celebrated by the Welsh at Calan Mai (May Day). For the people of Scotland, there is no early literary reference whatsoever, and nothing for pre-Christian Gaul – our nearest continental Celtic neighbours. Is there then, anything at all, linking Imbolc to pre-history?
The answer to that is, 'possibly', but it is isolated to one area: Ireland. Excavations at some sites in Ireland have uncovered artefacts and structures that indicate the presence of ceremonial activities which may have been associated with spring rites. For example, the discovery of ancient fire pits and offerings at the Hill of Ward in Co Meath suggest that spring may have been observed with fire rituals and communal gatherings. However, we cannot verify this information and thus it must remain within the realms of hypothesis, and whether such rites were known as ‘Imbolc’ also remains a mystery. Such findings seem also to be confined solely to Ireland, as previously noted, indicating it was a practice particular to the island. This fact then throws up possible issues of cultural appropriation for non-Irish pagans, but that’s a whole other discussion for another blog!
Imbolc, and the other three Gaelic festivals as ritual celebrations arrive in later folklore outside of Ireland, but only in Gaelic-speaking areas of the Western Highlands of Scotland. All the evidence leads us to the understanding that if Imbolc was ancient, it was particular to areas populated by Gaelic speakers. The festivals of Bealtaine and Samhain (and their regional equivalents), on the other hand, are well-attested across the entire archipelago. This ties in nicely with evidence from pre-history that the year was divided into two distinct halves: the light, masculine half, beginning at the time of Bealtaine, and the dark, feminine half, beginning around Samhain.
Despite any potential early origins of Imbolc, its preservation over the centuries is largely due to the influence of the evolution of cultural and religious practices. The spread of Christianity in Ireland led to the Christianisation of many pagan festivals, including Imbolc. As a result, Imbolc became associated with the feast day of St Brigid of Kildare, and the traditions and customs of the festival became irrevocably entwined with Christian elements. The fusion of pagan and Christian beliefs is evident in the folklore and customs surrounding Imbolc, such as the association of St Brigid with the healing of livestock, the making of Brigid’s crosses and the preparation of special foods like Bannocks and dairy-based dishes. This syncretism reflects the obvious complex interplay between ancient traditions and Christian practices, shaping the way Imbolc was observed in the Medieval and early Modern periods.
Imbolc as a Modern Revival
In the modern era, the revival of interest in British pre-Christian spirituality and pagan traditions has brought Imbolc firmly into the spotlight. Contemporary neo-pagan communities have embraced Imbolc as a significant festival in the ‘Wheel of the Year’, one which marks the transition from winter to spring, and celebrates the awakening of the earth. This modern resurgence of Imbolc has sparked discussions about the authenticity of the festival and its relevance in the 21st century. Scholars have analysed the revival of Imbolc in the context of contemporary religious and cultural movements.
Some argue that the reconstruction of Imbolc by modern pagans is a creative invention based on fragmented historical sources and romanticised notions of ‘ancient Celtic’ spirituality. They contend that the modern celebration of Imbolc may be more of a reflection of contemporary beliefs and values rather than a faithful continuation of ancient Irish practices. After all, aside from some tenuous archaeological evidence in Ireland, Imbolc does not enter the literary record until the 7th or 8th century, and thus, it is quite likely to be a medieval agricultural festival particular to Ireland, as we have seen.
Conversely, proponents of the ancient origins of Imbolc maintain that core elements of the festival, such as emphasis on the anticipation of spring, the honouring of Brigid and the themes of birth/rebirth and lactation, have persisted through the centuries and continue to resonate with people today, and one cannot deny that the resonance is strong. They argue that the revival of Imbolc is a natural extension of humanity’s connection to the cycles of nature and the desire to connect with ancestral traditions.
The modern neo-pagan revival of Imbolc draws heavily on Irish folklore about Brigid and her connection to fertility and the arrival of spring, but it likely exaggerates the importance of the festival in other traditionally ‘Celtic’ traditions. That the festival clearly originates in Ireland also highlights the question, as previously noted, of how appropriate it is to be celebrating it outside of Irish culture.
As modern pagans, I do believe it is entirely appropriate for us to welcome the return of spring, and its renewing energy of rebirth and the prospering of life once more. Those concepts are universal among all humans in the northern hemisphere, and ‘Imbolc’ as the only surviving indigenous name for such concepts is a handy term for use. Whether rooted in antiquity or reinvented for the present, Imbolc continues to inspire rituals, celebrations, and spiritual practices that resonate with diverse communities, shaping the way we engage with the past and envision the future. I leave it up to you to decide where you stand on the issue.
If you’d like to connect with spring energy outside of ‘Imbolc’ and in a more generic way, try any of the following:
If you are keen to work with the Irish Imbolc influences, you can:
The most important aspect of any ritual, however small, is the intention behind it. You can customise these ideas to suit your own spiritual beliefs and practices, and feel free to incorporate any other elements or symbols that hold personal significance to you. Spring/Imbolc is a time for setting positive intentions, embracing change, and welcoming the return of light, so allow that energy to guide you as you create your own version of honouring the return of spring. Wishing you all the blessings of the season!