If you were to ask me what my favorite sabbat is, my answer is invariably the next one. I revel in the wheel of the year. There is something deep and moving about the changing of the seasons and the anticipation of the next. Ostara is about anticipation of the coming season.
The whole world is about to burst into life. Something from nothing, life from death. This is the power of the Ostara myth. During the dark half of the year our Goddess travels to the underworld, in search of her love. She gives up all of her earthly power; arrives on death’s door naked and alone. She reminds her old lover, of passion and life. He impregnates her. And she carries his next form back into the world of light and abundance.
How freaking powerful is that?! A whole sweeping story of grief and loss, tenacity, sacrifice, and enduring love. This happens every year. And at this time, we wait. We wait for the return of our Goddess from the underworld. We wait for the explosion of life.
The symbolism of the holiday is all around us. The magic of bringing something from nothing. Life from death. Momentum from the stillness. The trees seem dead and lifeless, then send out fresh green shoots. The chick hatches from the stone like egg. Livestock begins to multiply.
From this we learn. We learn the patience to wait for the right time. From the grass that is killed by a late freeze, we learn that to rush things may backfire on us. We learn that small changes now may lead to great changes as momentum picks up. We learn to check what we have prepared for that busy part of the year, when we will have less time and less focus. We have let go of that which held us back and have prepared to embrace the future. And so prepared we wait, on this the cusp of the future. Where we will burst forth into a new life.
Ostara is the time that we take the first step.