The Celtic calendar doesn’t measure time the way modern life demands we do. It doesn’t split the year into tidy halves or neatly ordered quarters. It listens to the land instead. To the birds returning. To buds breaking open. To bees hovering like messengers. And so while many might think of May as the middle of spring, in the Celtic year, Bealtaine is its own beginning — the gateway into the light half of the year.
Bealtaine — celebrated on May 1 — is one of the four major fire festivals of the Celtic calendar, marking the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. Where Imbolc (early February) whispers of possibility, and the equinox hints at balance, Bealtaine arrives blazing. Fertile. Lush. Sensual. It is a time of celebration and risk. Of opening and emergence. A time when the veil between worlds is thin, and the pulse of life is loud.
And what better way to meet a season like that than with our bodies?
Because in recovery, we talk so much about mindset. About reframing, resetting, replacing old thoughts with new ones. And that’s good work. It is. But we cannot think our way into healing. We cannot white-knuckle our way into worthiness. And we sure as hell cannot logic our way out of craving. The body doesn’t work like that. Recovery doesn’t work like that.
Sobriety, when it’s rooted, isn’t a brain game. It’s an embodied state. And the body is the keeper and protector of our sobriety.
Let me say that again: The body is the keeper and protector of our sobriety.
If we ignore her, override her, punish her or treat her like a project to fix, we will stay locked in survival. We might stay sober. But we won’t feel free.
Bealtaine invites us back into our senses.
Not as indulgence, but as intimacy. With ourselves. With our world. With the truth of what it means to be alive in a body that has survived.
Because what is sobriety if not a reclamation of sensation? To feel heat on your skin without numbing it. To taste sweetness without shame. To cry without a reason. To rest without guilt. These are radical acts. These are holy rebellions.
And Bealtaine is the perfect time to remember that.
The ancient Celts honored Bealtaine by lighting fires across the hills, by walking their cattle between flames to protect them from illness. By weaving ribbons through branches and blessing the land with their hands. These weren’t just traditions. They were sensory rituals. They involved heat, scent, touch, movement. They rooted people in the now.
Which is what we need in recovery, too. We need rituals that return us to our bodies. We need to feel our feet on the earth. We need to smell something good in the kitchen. We need to put our hands in soil, or on a shoulder, or over our heart.
Because when you’re healing, your nervous system doesn’t need more thinking. It needs grounding. It needs permission to be in the body.
So what if this month, instead of working harder on your mindset, you listened more closely to your body?
What if you tracked pleasure instead of productivity? What if you let your body tell you what she needs? What if that walk you keep meaning to take wasn’t a task, but a doorway?
Sobriety is not the absence of alcohol. It’s the presence of self. It’s embodiment.
And yes, embodiment is a buzzword these days. But I don’t mean it as a concept. I mean it as a choice. A practice. A return.
In my own recovery, I’ve learned that sensation is safer than I once believed. That I can feel big things and not be swallowed. That the sound of birdsong can shift my mood more than a podcast ever could. That resting my hand on my sternum is sometimes the most powerful intervention available. That being in a sober body doesn’t mean I’ve failed at escape — it means I’ve made peace with staying.
Bealtaine is the season of staying. Of lingering. Of soft skin and warm light. Of letting ourselves be touched by joy. And in sobriety, that can be the scariest part. Not the ache, but the softness. The tenderness of being fully here.
But your body can hold it. She’s held so much already. She can hold pleasure, too.
Here’s a practice I love this time of year: Bealtaine Senses Scan.
Simple. Five minutes. No right or wrong.
Wherever you are, pause and notice:
- What do I see?
- What do I hear?
- What do I smell?
- What do I taste?
- What do I feel?
Don’t overthink it. Just notice. Let the noticing be enough.
Sometimes, that’s all it takes to come home to yourself again. To remember that you are not a floating head trying to fix yourself. You are a body. Alive. Wise. In motion.
And if the body is the protector of our sobriety, then this season is a sacred ally. Every breeze, every bloom, every bite of ripe fruit is an invitation back to presence. Back to yourself.
This May, may we honor that. May we walk barefoot more. May we bless our senses. May we let recovery feel good.
Because it can. It really, truly can.
And maybe that’s the magic of Bealtaine — reminding us that being here, being whole, being fully awake in our bodies — isn’t something we have to earn. It’s something we get to receive.
So let this be your permission slip to feel it all. To follow the heat. To taste what’s sweet. To let your body be your guide.
Because she is not the problem.
She is the portal.
Thirsty For Wonder is a space for people in recovery and healing to return to themselves—through coaching, spiritual companionship, creative practices, and community calls. It’s slow work, sacred work, and it’s being held with care. Anne Marie is raising funds to keep it accessible and sustainable. Learn more and support HERE.
THIRSTY FOR WONDER: Anne Marie Cribben is a passionate recovery coach and spiritual companion based in Washington, DC. As the founder of Thirsty For Wonder, she offers 1:1 coaching, spiritual companionship, and recovery support rooted in compassion and empowerment. Creator of The Wellspring: A Celtic Recovery Journey, Anne Marie blends the Celtic calendar with sobriety, connecting participants to ancient wisdom and nature’s rhythms. A fierce advocate for sobriety as liberation and self-love, Anne Marie challenges the targeted marketing of alcohol to women and promotes authentic, joyful living. Her approach goes beyond addiction recovery, fostering a life of vibrancy and fulfillment.
In her personal life, Anne Marie enjoys baking, cooking, poetry, being a Swiftie, weight lifting, reading, embroidery, and creating mocktails. She treasures time with friends and embraces creativity in all forms.
SPIRITUAL GANGSTER: Welcome to the ‘Spiritual Gangster’ wing of The Sober Curator, a haven for those on a sober journey with a twist of spiritual sass. Here, we invite you to plunge headfirst into a world of meditation, astrology, intentionality, philosophy and spiritual reflection – all while keeping your feet (and sobriety) firmly on the ground.
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