St. Brigid's Day

St Brigid’s Day, Feb 1st, Sedona, Arizona

Glowing hues of orange, maroon, pink, and golden Red Rock illuminated by a brilliant moon awaken me at 4:00am. This feminine, gentle wake-up is a St. Brigid’s Day gift. Such beauty and Light!

I think, I gotta get out there! Quick!

But first, coffee. Priorities. My readings reveal the interrelatedness of everything as one reflection discusses loneliness, a topic of a Reframe meeting last week. There are no coincidences. And the Beatitudes always humble me.

I text a moon loving friend in Michigan. We share our awe. Two other early risers send greetings, and I’m struck by the Grace of friendship.

I open the door and enter a canyon of God’s amazing handiwork. The moon descends behind the western peaks, and the sun has not made its journey above the Red Rocks in the East.

Blessed between night and day, I walk in gratitude in this sacred place. Out of nowhere, my heart sings::

“In Him, there is no darkness at all.

The night and the day are both alike.”

In the midst of between, my steps in solitude lead to no destination. I feel the presence of ancestors, loved ones, and friends I have yet to meet. Past, present and future - all one. Crazy cool.

My mother, Eileen Brigid Sullivan Neylon, was born Feb. 28, 1927, and as children, we knew about this special day. My mom said that her mother celebrated this peaceful, yet mighty Irish saint.

I have a niece Brigid Mary and a sister Eileen Brigid, and I message these wonderful women every year on this day. Maybe I’m channeling my grandma. My heart also embraces our child who was named Brigid Kerry at birth who is now Sean. He’s wayward. That’s the simplest, most evasive way to describe him.

My friend Molly texts that she prays St. Brigid will intercede on Sean’s behalf as he finds his way. I feel her love in a great whoosh!

So many thoughts for a Sunday morning. So many prayers, not of despair, but of hope cultivated in connection. We are never alone.