January Wolf Moon with Harris Armstrong

We are starting the new year with a Full Moon offering from Collective Aporia's own Harris Armstrong! Harris is a poet, writer, teacher, and administrative member of Aporia. I tend to say, "if you need something done, just ask Harris." Please enjoy and  Happy New Year! 
Darkly Yours,
Noah Christie

​January Full Moon

Welcome to the other side of the crossroads to 2023! Last year around this time, collective.aporia offered a workshop called “Imbas Forosnai as Rest” that I led. Though we are a creative collective, my intention behind that workshop was to encourage participants (and myself) to take a cue from our northern hemisphere weather and hibernate artistically. 

‘Imbas forosnai’ is an Irish term that more or less translates to divine inspiration or poetic frenzy. Does that not seem like an enviable state? In the tradition of the bards and druids, I led our workshop in creating a ritual to bring us to that place of restful restlessness. Power naps have gotten me through the most difficult, time-consuming, and stressful parts of my life; I set an alarm for twenty minutes exactly and lay down, eyes closed. Sometimes I fall asleep, sometimes I don’t. Either way I have to spring out of bed, ready to go on to the next task. The workshop was meant to evoke that feeling, resting so purposefully that at the end, there is a restless, irrepressible need to create.

Given that this Wolf Moon is the micromoon (when the moon is furthest away from the earth), we take a page out of the moon’s book and pull away in a similar fashion. I invite you to think about how to rest purposefully as the bards partook in the imbas forosnai rituals. Before, the bards would fast, then chew (but not swallow!) the meat of an animal that is taboo to eat before sequestering themselves in a dark tent until the inspiration struck. We can create something that suits our needs with those elements. Here are some guiding questions for creating your ritual:

1. On fasting: What do you need to eliminate out of your life for a short amount of time? Are you being intentional about doing what you enjoy or are you participating in something that gives you a quick emotional fix? Consider abstaining as an experiment, how long can you go without? I am not an advocate of abstinence from joy and pleasure, but that pleasure can be amplified by waiting on occasion.
   
   
   
2. On meat: What do you tell yourself is unhealthy for you? Consider whether or not ‘unhealthy’ is an arbitrary label. Examine what you consider taboo and why. What a moderate indulgence can do for you? While you abstain from one thing, what fills the hole left behind? In other words: remember to feed yourself even as you are fasting. The bards specifically chewed and not swallowed, brought death close to them and dwelt in that liminal space. How close can you get to the lip of a chasm? What will you see at the bottom?
   
   
   
3. On rest: I mean really rest. This doesn’t necessarily mean sleeping, unless you’re in need. What feeds you? What relaxes you? Now is the time to pamper yourself to a point you’re uncomfortable and need to get up. This is how you stoke that creative fire, care for yourself until you cannot be cared for any longer. Maybe this means you lay in an empty room and nothing more. Because this is meant to be eventually disquieting rest, consider avoiding falling into a meditation practice. Crawl into the bog of the mind instead of trying to control or even observe where your thoughts lead. Letting your psyche buzz and be wild for a while. This is where that frenzied inspiration is born. After that, you can unravel. Enjoying that rest until it tangles is crucial to the success of the ritual.

An important note for this restless, frenzied creation on the other side: in my ideal world all our bodies, art, and labor will not be devoted to capitalism, despite our current need to make ends meet and care for our responsibilities. Though you may need this frenzied rest to continue your day job or finish a manuscript you’re hoping to publish, though this ritual may be a desperate attempt for control in a landscape of increasing need, please think about engaging in an act of private art. Maybe that art is small and ephemeral, a painting entirely of water, a poem you only recite aloud to yourself, or even making a snow sculpture that will not survive the season. If you have troubles doing things for yourself, as I often do, think of this act as an offering to that inspiration. Give the divine who provided that inspiration your thanks by giving your plenty. But I hope you can make that art just for you. It’s okay to be selfish. The ritual is meant to fill your cup first. 

February 1st is Imbolc; climb out of your poetic caves and take a walk to observe the changing earth in honor of Brighid. Return to the orbit of your life by having an Imbolc feast or building a fire! Make a celebration, as even the small milestones are worthy of joy. 

Please let us know how you craft your imbas forosnai rituals! We want to celebrate your blessed rest along with you.

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