Why you don’t need your sh*t together to celebrate Ostara
How the Wheel of the Year festivals can be supportive rather than another thing to ‘fail’ at
The irony was not lost on me yesterday that whilst I was pulling together my Ostara insta post about a festival that celebrates the perfect balance between light and dark – that symbolises equilibrium, rebirth and awakening – I was anything but in balance and awake myself.
Hormonal fluctuations had coincided with a full couple of days and overwhelm had moved in.
Overwhelm had opinions.
Overwhelm was fairly sure I wouldn’t be doing anything for Ostara myself (despite the lovely ideas I was sharing) because I hadn’t been able to give it a moment’s thought at that point.
There were no plans. No pre-carved out chunk of time in which to rustle up something beautiful. No real headspace or energy to speak of. I was looking forward to my bed and didn’t need to add anything else into my week.
Overwhelm said ‘sure, post the thing, but sit this one out’.
And here’s the thing. It continued, ‘wait til there’s room… space… til you’ve got your shit together so you can do it properly’.
Oh, properly – such a seductive word.
Overwhelm and I needed to have a chat.
You see, I didn’t start working with the Wheel of the Year festivals when I had a ton of time, space and energy. I started paying attention to them exactly when I felt I had the least of these resources available.
It was because space for me felt so squeezed that I needed them in the first place.
A reason – and a beautiful, nature-based symbolic one at that – every six weeks or so to create whatever kind of pause I could manage.
Why try and cram yet another thing in? I wondered at that. But when these festivals started to come into my life I was a Mum of two young (fairly wild) children and the needs of everyone and everything were stacked so high I couldn’t always figure out what my own were, let alone do anything about them.
The Wheel festivals spoke to me of beauty and connection. Connection to my Self and connection to this moment of the season in a world which seems to want us to rush past what’s here in pursuit of an ever-moving there.
For sure, I didn’t have time to add another thing in, but I was curious. Maybe I could just learn about them and feed the curious part of me if nothing else.
And so I’d read about them. I’d think about the symbolism as I washed-up. I’d pick some flowers with the kids and make a thrown together nature table-cum-altar on the kitchen table which would surely get wrecked within a few days. It made me smile when I glanced at it.
I did nothing grand or put together.
It did not look in any way like one of those witchy insta reels of a woman with clean hair in a wafty dress, in a perfect scene that screamed (sang?) Ostara or Imbolc or Beltane vibes and suggested acres of time devoted to honouring this sacred festival against a backdrop of housework fairies paid with serene smiles.
And this is exactly how and why they became small, nourishing moments I looked forward to.
The house could be a mess, there could be a ton of needs, my hair might reeaally need a wash and I could use the festival as a reason to ignore all that for a moment.
Despite all the reasons not to I could use it as an over-ridingly good reason to pause, take a breath, check-in and feel part of the season in some simple and beautiful way.
So today I softened to myself and the overwhelm that had shown up in my week.
I welcomed a plan changing first thing and chose for the small window it opened up to be my Ostara time. I still didn’t do the insta-reel-wafty-dress thing. I took a cup of tea up to my veg patch, listened to the morning birdsong and felt something unfurling.
Where ordering seeds has been a thing on my list I keep ignoring (too many decisions, not enough bandwidth?), I sat and knew what I wanted to grow and where. Something akin to space unfurled in my head, my chest and my shoulders exhaled down. Something yawned and stretched awake.
I’d felt out of balance yesterday evening and in these few minutes which I began not feeling particularly Ostara-y, it was kind of like Spring arrived in me.
Often we think we can’t get near the things that will nourish us. We have so many reasons to turn away from them.
Overwhelm thought I couldn’t celebrate today’s festival because I didn’t have my sh*t together but in spending a moment whilst a bit frazzled with Ostara she brought me some of the balance and Spring unfurling I was missing.
And if I hadn’t found that moment today I could’ve sought it out tomorrow or the next day. Doing it all imperfectly. Letting the almost-six-weekly cycle of the festivals be the good reason to check-in with myself.
If you need some inspiration to take an Ostara moment for yourself, here are the words and suggestions I shared on my post:
3 Ostara Invitations - take what speaks to you & feels like nourishment - leave what doesn't…
Drink in the birdsong
The birds sound as excited as we are that Spring & Ostara are here!
Try this: If you’re up early, grab a cuppa, wrap up and slip outside for a feast for the ears. Breathe in the fresh air and let the beauty of the dawn chorus wash over you. If you can’t face the early start, there’s a repeat performance at dusk with accompanying pretty skies. Soul-stirringly lovely, even if you only have 30 seconds to give to it
Ostara-dreaming
Ostara is a time of re-birth and the seasons have a way of mirroring our inner journey. If it’s felt Winter as much inside of you as outside lately, maybe you’re opening to the possibility of emerging. (If you’re not, don’t rush yourself - you get to stay in your curled bud for as long as you need, lovely)
Try this: Curl up with a journal or take yourself on a cobweb-clearing walk and ask yourself:
What could re-birth mean for me?
How would I love to emerge or unfurl in this season?
Inspiration Altar
Inviting in some kind of change or new energy this season? Create an Ostara altar as a beautiful reminder of what you’re calling in.
Try this: Elevate your jug of daffodils with things that inspire you with the energy of the season. Other signs of Spring, a light-filled crystal, a meaningful card/image, a word or something else symbolic. Takes moments, gives you a happy sigh each time you pass it.
The magic thing about the Wheel festivals is that I don’t need to bring the energy. They bring theirs to me.
The Winter Solstice tiptoes in on a hush with a deep night-sky stillness. Imbolc invites gentle stirring whilst still wrapped in our cosy nest. Ostara is birdsong on a gentle breeze, settling, balancing and softly unfurling all at the same time. Beltane in 6 weeks - oh, I’m looking forward to her - playful, light and steeped in pleasure.
And so we really don’t need to have anything together. With each turn of the Wheel we can just notice what’s available here.
Oh this is beautiful! I can really relate to thinking I need grand plans, lots of time and intention. My heart know Ms that leaning into marking the wheel turning in these small ways really is perfect. Thanks for articulating this so beautifully
I loved reading this so much, as someone who is always waiting for this unrealistic perfect hour of free, peaceful time to open up for me! And thank you for the journal prompts, they were really useful to me yesterday. And I sat in the garden after school with my son and we ate ice cream in the sun and listened to the birds. And it was a fleeting moment of loveliness!