February 1, 2016. As I so often do, I awoke this Imbolc morning with a good friend in the guest bedroom and a brilliant, vivid dream. She’s doing what she needs to do, sleeping in, and I can continue with the dream. A sweet little black cat was near me in the dream. No real connection first, but I’m always glad to see a cat. I knew she had to be a messenger. She was indeed, and I began to hear her. The first thought was that what I needed to do was get up and exercise; that yes, for me, it was going to fall by the wayside if I didn’t do it first thing, and I already knew in a guilty way that exercise was key for me.
The problem is that I’ve always been so bad at it. Asthma certainly didn’t help. Then after my surgery, what fitness level I had went down to zero, and it’s been too discouraging to recover.
The keywords that the kitty had for me were simple, “Dig in.” Just that. dig in. With the learning, with wanting to work a little more, with Druidry, with wanting to be healthier, with everything.
I addressed the kitty as Brighid, and I’m sure that was right. I’ve encountered my matron Goddess in a profound, memorable dream the night before Imbolc. Interesting that the cat was black because I had had a conversation about crows with Pat the day before. We both like them. They take up space in the world unashamedly, and I love their glossy blackness. With Crow as teacher, I always think of her looking at me and saying crossly, “Of course it’s that way, idiot.” That’s the association I have with the deep black of the little messenger cat, profundity, tell it like it is, taking up space in the world without apology.