Fire rituals to kindle cosiness and creativity in winter.
awakening warmth and inspiration with the fire element - part two.
I’m Lyndsay, mother, creative and storyteller with a background in interiors PR. Story & Thread. is a weekly letter exploring the intersection of creativity, mothering and the living world, with a home and a garden at the heart...
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“Though a house shelters its inhabitants from the outside world of nature and people, the hearth, the fire-place, is the one area where nature in its elemental wildness is allowed to be present in the home”.
—John O’Donohue, The Four Elements: Reflections on Nature.
Hello dear readers
How is everyone doing this week?
Thank you for all of your lovely words and reflections on my ode to the snowdrop last week, I loved hearing that so many of you see the little white winter flower as a symbol of hope that lighter, brighter days are on their way and as a reminder of the resilience needed for these last days of winter too.
Talking of spring-time in the not-so-distant future,
and I will be hosting ‘Holding Stories’, a half day creative spring gathering in London on Saturday 20th April. More details will be sent to those on the wait list this week, you can join it here…Today is part two of the fire chapter within the elemental living series — an exploration of the natural elements at play within the season unfolding around us.
The first part of winter’s elemental living chapter explored the the role of the fire element in bringing warmth and inspiration during the stillness of winter. This second part is filled with ideas for warming fire rituals based on the ideas of the three flames of inspiration, hearth and alchemy…
Seasonal living and elemental wisdom in winter.
Beyond my window, the murky, muted palette of the garden in winter is brushed with pockets of living colour for the first time since late autumn, and a thin veil of green dusts the leafless branches. First it was the porcelain snowdrops and dusky pink hellebores to bravely emerge from the cold earth, now giving way to a palette of yellows — from the palest hue of the first primrose, followed by the buttery gold clumps of wild daffodils, and now the subtle chiffon of Narcissus bulbocodium ‘White Petticoat', so sweet that it elicited a gasp of delight when I first glimpsed it open in the planter on the windowsill.
Winter affords space and stillness after the movement and falling of leaves in autumn, and for us too, winter signals a time to rest. As we move towards the end of winter, bare branches require cutting back to encourage robust new growth revealing a soft ground for newness. Often our homes can benefit from ‘dusting off the cobwebs’ or a refresh too (which can be as simple as opening the window and allowing some cool fresh air in).
The fire element relates to our spirit body, it represents our inner light, what motivates us, our passions and our creative power. Outdoors, indoors and within we require the power of the fire element — in solar form to germinate seeds that will grow into flowers; with fire in the hearth (or means of heating) to keep us warm during this often lengthy seasonal transition; and energetically to both spark and alchemise our ideas, hopes and dreams into something of substance, a long-lasting molten gold.
Brigid, the solar goddess.
Fire rituals have been used for centuries to burn, to clear and to purify.
The energy of fire also provides the spark of inspiration, a nurturing warmth and the power to transform.
It is no coincidence that Brigid, Celtic solar goddess of fire is celebrated and honoured on the cusp of winter and spring.
Brigid is known to embody three flames,
*The spark of inspiration | the wordsmith, initiating creativity, storytelling, weaving poetry and living in flow. The muse of poetry, song, of all learning and culture, and its transmission to future generations.
*The gentle flame of the hearth | the homemaker, goddess of fertility, family and childbirth. A fiery yet tender protectress of warmth, keeping the family safe, tending to the fireplace and our inner healing.
*The fire of the forge | the alchemist and maker, the embodiment of magical power that transforms metal with fire and is patron of craft (especially weaving, embroidery, and metalsmithing).
Fire rituals for the senses and the soul.
As I have mentioned before, in this chapter of my life, rituals need to be easeful, feel natural, intuitive and not forced, but at the same time anchor me into the rhythm of the season.
I am finding myself being drawn to warming myself and my home with food, light, layers of tactile textures and gentle gatherings; and to tending the embers of creativity, allowing ideas to simmer, trusting in the enduring glow of the slow burn.
Gone are the days of elaborate ceremony (for now) — instead rituals are the sorts of things that are found within the things we do each day, the feelings conjured in a season and the emergence of yearly traditions without us realising at the time.
They are not imposed externally but come from the inside out, an inner wisdom woven into life rather than doing something because you feel you should.
*inspiration | wordsmithing
Although winter is a quieter time of contemplation, I have found sparks of inspiration everywhere…
written word | I joined
’s Glimmers writing workshop last month which provided much inspiration to craft words on paper and conjured layered feelings about creativity around caring (especially as my son did not have the nap during the session that I had hoped he would!). Kerri’s latest offering Nesting too, is a beautiful writing course that is gently encouraging me to look deeply into my surroundings and my inner landscape, I am so excited to discover what magic may come forth.music for the soul | I love all of her beautifully curated playlists but am particularly enjoying dreaming and creating to
’s Daydreaming playlist,in conversation | as always
’s podcast, As the Season Turns provides the most beautiful orientation point and a feast of folklore, nature stories and evocative seasonal wisdom at the beginning of each month. I have also discovered ’s brilliant new podcast Pivot! that celebrates the changes we make in our lives as a result of intentional decision, shifting circumstances and also our intuitive leanings.* hearth | homemaking
Fire and the hearth have been synonymous with home throughout the ages…
a wool blanket | I am finding warmth at home with a beautiful woven wool blanket from The Future Kept. It is woven on the edge of the Clwydian mountain range in Wales from recycled 100% wool using the excess material and yarn leftover from the production of other blankets and so colours are only available in limited batches (I had to wait a while for mine to be available). I have enjoyed curling up in a cosy chair of an evening (often in the dark whilst my son sleeps…and wakes again) with my laptop and a warm drink nearby.
welcome apricity | as the sun’s power grows, warmth can be found in the feeling of apricity, our living room at the back of the house can feel glorious on a rare sun-filled winter’s day.
always candles | of course there will always be candles. The short, dark days lend themselves to hunkering down and bringing warmth and light inside, imbuing our homes with spirit and a wash of magic.
Even as the light returns, candles are lit to honour the return of warmth and increasing power of the sun in the weeks and months ahead. My favourite combination at the moment is a cosy, spiced Christmas candle with the sweet and refreshing scent of spring bulbs coming into bloom.
* forge | alchemising
I have felt drawn to allowing things to simmer below the surface, a gentle alchemy and a slow burn this winter — a process of feeling and tending to the flame…
gathering magic | although there is a strong draw to hibernate within winter days, throughout history, communities have gathered in this season to share warmth, light and food and often here, winter magic is forged. Festivities and celebrations have brought much warmth this winter — first at Christmas and Yule, and with both children’s birthdays in January, there has been a pull to gather at home. I have been in no rush to take down decorations which have lingered for longer than usual, bringing colour and adornment to the walls (I even deemed it necessary to find some paper decorations for Valentine’s Day this year!).
collaboration love | I have felt the shimmer of collaboration in these wintry days — of potential projects in the year ahead as ideas are voiced, visions imagined and intentions made. I loved speaking with
for her brilliant The Cost of Caring series about my experience of carving creativity into early motherhood,Talking to Lindsay was such a joy and I savoured the opportunity to think about the realities of feeling the call to create within this all-consuming chapter of having young children, and how finding a beautiful community of creative mothers here has been truly transformative.
and I have also spent many-a wintry moment dreaming of the spring days ahead where we will host Holding Stories — a creative spring gathering in London filled with seasonal ritual and contemplation. The planning itself is bringing its own kind of magic and I am looking forward to seeing what unfolds from this intention of creating a space for our stories to be told.As always I have loved seeing ideas develop and come into form in the INSIDER and ATELIER interview series. It feels like such an honour to deep dive into the sacred spaces of others’ and to find out how experiences of home and creativity shape us and those we live with. I felt hugely inspired by the insights from
and over the winter months,slow burn | winter has provided space for visioning, in the dark I can see my ideas more clearly. Whilst I think about harnessing the flickers of inspiration, I am continuing to remind myself that this is a season of gentle alchemy and slow transformation — a process of feeling and of tending to the flame.
Even as we approach the beginnings of spring in the weeks ahead, I am reminded that ideas can continue to simmer, just as the sun slowly stretches and strengthens. There is no rush to unveil newness just yet — if we take one step at a time from a place of deepest feeling and intuition, we can create the softest, most enduring glow of all.
I would love to hear if you identify with any or all of the three flames — the spark of inspiration, the gentle warmth of the hearth and the transformative glow of alchemy.
What is your favourite warming winter ritual and what has brought you inspiration this season?
Thank you, as always, for reading and I really look forward to your thoughts, I hope we can chat more in the comments.
Lyndsay x
More fireside reading,
Lindsay the blanket is gorgeous, what a great project thank you for sharing! Can’t have enough wool blankets! I could keep reading your words forever, you have such an intricate yet delightful flow of writing
Loved reading this Lyndsay. I was excited to read the part about Brigid. Deeply resonate with your winter shares and fire rituals xx. Keep simmering.