Imbolc Is Not the Time to Rush: Why Hustle Culture Misses the Point of This Sacred Season

Snowdrops are some of the first flowers to bloom around Imbolc

Do you feel it? That subtle shift that’s hard to name but impossible to ignore.

Winter isn’t over. It’s still cold and snowy here in the Midwest in late January. But something has changed. The light lingers a little longer. Your body exhales differently. Your thoughts don’t feel quite as heavy as they did a few weeks ago.

That, my love, is the energy of Imbolc.

And no one really knows what to do with it. Especially not a culture obsessed with productivity, certainty, and constant forward motion.

Imbolc Lives in the In-Between

Imbolc is a cross-quarter holiday that is observed on February 1-2 in the Northern Hemisphere and August 1-2 in the Southern Hemisphere. It marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice (Yule) and the Spring Equinox (Ostara).

Which means this is not Spring. Not even close.

This is not blooming flowers, bold plans, or big declarations. This is the whisper before the word. The spark before the flame. The moment when something inside you stirs, and you think, “Oh… hello. You’re still there.”

Imbolc holds the energy of a Baby Bunny, similar to your transition from menstruation to the follicular phase.

I like to think of Imbolc as nature’s Baby Bunny Day.

If you track your menstrual cycles or practice menstrual cycle awareness, this time of the year mirrors the energy of the crossover or transition days between menstruation and the Follicular Phase. During those days, just after bleeding ends and your energy begins to return, you still feel tender. Shy. Curious. A little fragile. Like a little baby bunny coming out of her den for the first time.

Gaia is having her own Baby Bunny Day. A tender place where too much action or growth can still be devastated by February’s winter storms. Our bodies feel that energy, too, and it's encouraging us to be curious and mind how fast we come out of the gate over the next several weeks.

In the Belly of Becoming

The word Imbolc is often translated to mean “in the belly.” And I can’t think of a more perfect description.

This is the season of seeds underground, stirring with germination but not yet pushing out of the ground. Ideas brushing across our periphery but without form. Dreams that don’t want to be shared yet because they’re still forming, still tender, still vulnerable to the harsh fluorescent lights of patriarchal unconsciousness and pain.

Nothing here needs to be forced. But the modern imbalanced world tells us otherwise, doesn’t it?

Patriarchy fucking hates this phase.

Because patriarchy thrives on output. It wants you to be in harvest all the freaking time. It feeds on you having a five-step plan and a measurable result to show for your existence as soon as the calendars turn to January 1.

Imbolc says, “Slow down. Something is gestating.” Patriarchy says, “If it’s not producing yet, it doesn’t matter.”

And that disconnects us from ourselves. From the planet's pulse. And leads us straight to Burnout Land. Population: Most of us.

Brigid, Fire, and the Sacred Fuck-You to Hustle Culture

Imbolc is traditionally associated with Brigid, a Celtic goddess of fire, creativity, fertility, poetry, healing, and the hearth. She holds birth and death in the same hands. She understands that creation begins in the dark. That life doesn’t announce itself all at once, but it unfolds in a dance of tension and surrender.

Brigid is a Celtic goddess associated with Imbolc

One of her most enduring symbols is the eternal flame. There's a fire that burns in Kildare in dedication to her.

This fire is not a spectacle, but a reminder that something is happening, even when it looks like nothing is happening. That passion grows long before the harvest comes.

Tell me that isn’t a direct rebellion against a system that tells you to burn yourself out or you’re not trying hard enough.

Imbolc teaches us how to tend instead of perform, and tuning into Brigid's wisdom helps us to hold the tension of the Not-Yet-Born.

This Is Not the Time to Demand Full Bloom

I need you to hear this. Imbolc is not a full coming-out party. It is a gentle one.

This is not the moment to demand clarity, confidence, or big action from yourself. This is not the time to beat yourself up for not being further along in your resolutions since New Year's.

This is the time to ask different questions.

What is stirring in me right now? What feels alive but tender? What needs warmth and protection instead of exposure?

If something in you feels fragile, that doesn’t mean it’s weak. It means that you're waking up to the rhythms of the earth again. You're hearing the Pulse of Life.

How to Live Imbolc Without Making It a Whole Thing

You don’t need a whole big ritual, complete with robes, 27 crystals, and a ceremony that lasts hours to honor Imbolc. I'm more of an Everyday Witch... one that weaves the sacred into my day. If you're that kind of mystic, witch, or priestess, you're my kind of people.

Here are a few ways to embody this season in real life, without turning it into another thing to get right.

• Take a Early Spring Glimmers Walk. Not a power walk. Not a productivity walk. A noticing walk. Look for signs of new life. Buds. Birds. Light shifting. Let your nervous system register hope without forcing it. Write down those first signs of new life, or take pictures of them and make a collage.

• Light a candle and sit with it. Fire is central to Imbolc. Grab a journal and ask yourself: what does this flame represent in me right now? What am I tending? What needs my protection and grace as it takes root?

• Clear one small space. Not a full spring clean. One drawer. One shelf. One corner. Imbolc loves intention, not overwhelm. Clear the space with the intention to allow fresh, new energy to come in.

• Thank winter for all its gifts and insights. Before you rush forward, acknowledge what winter gave you: Rest. Insight. Endings. You don’t have to love it to respect it.

The Real Invitation of Imbolc

Imbolc asks you to trust subtlety. To stop demanding certainty from a body that is still thawing. It's inviting you to honor beginnings that are quiet, unfinished, and unnamed. To remember that life does not need to be loud to be sacred.

You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. You don’t need a polished plan. You don’t need permission to move slowly.

You just need to listen.

What is stirring in you? What are you choosing to plant this year, even if you don’t yet know what it will become?

That is Imbolc work. And in a world that profits off your disconnection from your own rhythms, choosing to honor that truth is a radical act of self-trust.

I’ll take that rebellion any day.

With love & sparkles,

💖Kori