Brigid is such a complex Goddess -- patroness of both poetry and smithcraft, of both fire and wells, of both healing of the body and the creative spark -- that it's not surprising that she is so beloved by such a wide variety of Pagans. One tradition in some covens is to make a vow to Brigid at Imbolc.
If that's part of your practice, allow me, please, to suggest that you consider a vow to become more connected to, to enter into a deeper relationship with, your own specific bit of Earth. Not "Nature," in the abstract, but your own landbase, watershed, yard, bit of Earth. Especially today, when most Pagans live in cities, this can present a serious challenge. Concrete does not lend itself to relationship nearly as easily (which is not to say "not at all") as do trees, rivers, meadows, mountains, beaches. But you can start, and it's a good place to start, with a pot or two of flowers or herbs on your balcony. You can start with the quality of light and how it differs in the morning when you are walking North from home to work from the evening when you are walking South from work to home. You can find some weeds that grow along the side of the interstate ramp where you slow to a crawl every morning in traffic. Those weeds have a lot to say and would love for someone to notice them every day. You can start with the same aggressive pigeon who shows up every day when you eat lunch in the park and wants a bit of your lunch. You can start with the homeless man at the stoplight or the young woman who still doesn't have much English who sells you a latte every morning.
As E. M. Forster said, "Only connect." Forster also said, Our life on earth is, and ought to be, material and carnal. But we have not yet learned to manage our materialism and carnality properly; they are still entangled with the desire for ownership. How can you work with that this year?
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."