Author: Anne Marie Cribbin

Winter whispers of stillness, deep rest, and the kind of healing that asks us to lean into mystery rather than seek easy answers. In the Celtic tradition, winter—the season marked by the festivals of Samhain and Imbolc—is understood as a threshold time, a liminal space where the ordinary gives way to the sacred. And within this sacred season lies a powerful symbol of transformation: the spiral. The spiral is not merely a design carved into ancient stones at sacred sites like Newgrange. It’s a symbol of the veil between worlds, a reminder of the cyclical nature of life, and a…

When I started feeling more comfortable in my sobriety, something inside me shifted. It wasn’t just about what was happening in my body, heart, and soul—it was about where I lived, too. My environment didn’t feel aligned with this new version of myself. It was tied to an old story I didn’t want to keep reading. I craved a home that reflected the liberation and expansion I was feeling on the inside. So, one night, I grabbed some garbage bags and went full-on Marie Kondo, sifting through drawers, closets, and forgotten corners of my home. Each item got the ultimate…

Winter hasn’t always been my favorite season. But in the last few years, I have developed a deep respect for this season and the lessons it brings. It’s the quiet invitation to slow down, listen, pull inward, and tend to the spaces we’ve neglected—both within ourselves and around us. There’s a stillness to winter that whispers a reminder: life doesn’t have to look busy to be meaningful. Beneath the surface of all that seems frozen, unseen work is happening. The soil is resting and preparing itself. Trees are conserving energy, pulling nutrients deep into their roots. And if we’re paying…

The Winter Solstice whispers a truth the world too often drowns out: we are meant to rest. It is the longest night, the stillest of moments when the earth exhales and urges us to do the same. Within the Celtic calendar, this day marks the return of light, but the light comes slowly, tenderly, without rush. In the depths of dormancy, we are invited into an ancient rhythm that is out of sync with modernity’s demands. Recovery, too, asks us to reclaim this rhythm—to unlearn the striving, the pushing, the endless pursuit of doing, and instead embrace the radical act…

We were caught in the rapture of it all, our youth, a wild unwritten thing – holding hands and running up the street, laughter spilling out of us like a river, dancing in an old warehouse, lights dim, with our friends and promises flying like sparks in the air. we swore, didn’t we, that even if the world stopped, we’d keep spinning? You were the thoughtful one, always remembering the little things— the way the sky blushed at dusk, the name of every song we danced to, the exact shade of my favorite flower. I was the dreamer, with…

We are in the thick of Samhain (Sow-in) now, the season of thinning veils, long shadows, and quiet whispers from the past. This sacred time in the Celtic calendar stretches from the end of October to the Winter Solstice. It’s a season that calls us inward, not only into the warmth of our homes but into the deeper chambers of our own being, where memory and knowing reside. Samhain reminds us to slow down, to linger in stillness, and to listen—not only to the echo of our own heartbeat but to the faint rhythm of those who came before us. …

The Celtic New Year on November 1st marks a powerful time of descent, ushering in the energy of darkness and quiet, a countercultural call to pause and gather strength before any new beginning. While modern New Year celebrations come with resolutions, goals, and challenges, the Celtic tradition invites us to release, reflect, and nurture the fertile ground of the unseen. In sobriety and recovery, this descent holds deep resonance. Here, we aren’t urged to become anything new; we’re invited to honor what has brought us to this moment, even the broken places, the experiences we’re letting go of, and the…

As October rolls along with its cooler air and longer nights, we often hear in Celtic tradition that “the veil is thin.” It’s said that during this time, the boundary between the seen and unseen worlds softens, allowing us to connect more deeply with our inner selves, our ancestors, and the spiritual realm. For those on a recovery journey, this thinning of the veil can carry a lot of meaning. Sobriety, too, reveals truths that once felt distant or hidden. In many ways, the path of recovery mirrors this seasonal shift, inviting us into a space where the familiar fades…

The Autumn Equinox is a sacred pause, a moment in time when light and dark hang in perfect balance. It’s as if the earth takes a breath, exhaling summer’s intensity and inhaling autumn’s crisp, cool promise. For those of us walking the path of sobriety and recovery, this time of year offers rich metaphors for our healing journeys. It is a season that invites reflection on the balance between light and dark and within ourselves, our choices, and our relationships. Just as the Earth finds equilibrium, we are called to notice how we can do the same. Balance is a…

Sobriety is often described as a journey—a path we walk day by day, step by step. It’s a journey that’s deeply personal, often challenging, and profoundly transformative. For many of us, this path is not just about abstaining from alcohol; it’s about finding a new way of living, a deeper connection to ourselves, and a more authentic relationship with the world around us. This journey of sobriety can be likened to a pilgrimage, a concept central to Celtic spirituality. In Celtic tradition, pilgrimage is more than just a physical journey to a sacred site; it’s a spiritual quest, an intentional…