continues:
The image of the home invokes archetypal, permanent aspects of Earth connected with the desire to feel at home in the world. The home is more than a box in which to live; it is a soul activity to be retrieved from the numbness of the world of modern objects. Each place of the house, each room, hallway, closet, stair and alcove is a distinct structure that animates different aspects of soul.
THE SYMBOLISM OF THE HOME
A home, then, is a symbol of the world, our own mini-world, our own Mother Earth. When we feel safe and comfortable in our homes then we feel more able to deal with the often frightening outside world. When we start to remember this link consciously and honour our homes in the manner they deserve, which befits such a powerful protective force, we will change our relationship, not only with our homes but also with our wider home, the planet herself. We don’t have to deny our desire for the sky, the heavens and the sun – nobody would want to stay always Earthbound. But a home can be the meeting point between Earth and sky. In classical symbolism, as we’ve seen, the circle was the symbol of the Earth. The square, a four-sided structure, is considered to be the symbol of order, stability and control. So it’s not surprising that we started to build our homes in square and rectangular structures: we were trying to impose order, trying to control the Earth, to make ourselves feel safe. Unfortunately, these shapes with their pointed corners are not as energetically harmonious as the earlier round houses (as we’ll see when we start to look at space clearing and feng shui). But as few of us are likely to be living in rounded houses, we just have to learn how to deal with our corners.
Now notice the next symbolic shape of the house – the slanting roof. All over the world you will see roofs which slant downwards. In practical terms they allow the rain to fall swiftly away from the roof. In symbolic terms, however, the slanting roof is akin to the pyramid shape pointing towards heaven. So the house sits between the Earth and heaven: it offers us a link between the Mother Earth and the Father Sky; between Gaia and God. Again, this was something our ancestors knew all too well. Thomas Moore notes that throughout the world you will find houses decorated with suns and moons, stars and even a dome to reflect the sweep of the cosmos. By adorning the house in such a way, our ancestors would always remember their links: to the Earth via the hearth and to the cosmos via the representations of the stars.
I hope you can now see why, at its most profound level, a house is always going to be more than a mere structure. Deep in our psyches we recognize that a house stands for far more than mere shelter. Understanding that our home is, symbolically, the world turns even the humblest space into a place full of mythic resonance, of deep archetypal power. No wonder the ancients venerated their homes: a touch of this awe and wonder is the first step to putting the spirit back into your home.
HESTIA, ABANDONED GODDESS OF THE HOME
IF HOME IS SUCH AN ESSENTIAL SYMBOL for our souls, why have we so neglected it in recent years? First and foremost, we simply haven’t had time. We’ve been so busy living ‘out there’ in the world that we haven’t had a chance to turn our eyes, ears, feelings, inwards. The world is getting smaller, and more accessible, by the moment. An exciting holiday used to mean piling along to the nearest seaside town or camping in some wilderness within a day’s drive or so. Now we can travel the world, see places our grandparents could only read about in books. We jump on a plane and land in a different time zone, a different country, a completely different culture – the world is truly our oyster. We needn’t even leave our homes to travel the world. We can log onto the Internet and range over the world, connecting within seconds with people in the opposite hemisphere to our own, jumping from continent to continent as the fancy takes us.
In the last chapter we talked about how we have been ruled by Apollo. Now let’s take a look at the other ruling archetype of our time. We are living in the age of Hermes, or Mercury, the winged messenger of the gods, the expert communicator, who thrives on speed and intellect. Hermes, you could say, is the god of the telephone (and, in particular, the smartphone), the computer (especially the laptop and tablet). He is the god of media, of YouTube, Snapchat and Instagram - the Lord of the Internet. His currency is information, the more of it the better. His mode of transmission is quick, very quick. We have fallen in love with Hermes, with his quick, agile mind, his restless, seeking nature, his charming yet deceptive trickster qualities. Hermes is the god of the fast buck, the conscience of the workaholic, the goad of the person who says more, just a little more. We all need Hermes in our lives (without him existence can become very dull) but we are running the risk of toppling too far into his frenetic realm.
A friend of mine who is in PR says she spends half her weekends reading all the reams of newsprint which fall through her door. She then spends hours on the Internet catching up with all the newsgroups, worried she may have missed something. When she hands you her business card it is crammed with numbers: her two phones; her fax; her answering service; her mobile; her e-mail address; her website. Interestingly, the one piece of information that isn’t on it is her address, her home. Is she happy? She says she was but now she’s not so sure. It feels as though something is missing from her life. She talks wistfully of having some time, some space of her own; of a few days without the weight of information pressing down on her. But then, she shrugs ruefully, she’d be missing out. Wouldn’t she?
We are suffering from information overload. It is not mentally possible for us to take in all the information, the news and views that are thrown at us without a break, day in, day out. When I first went to stay at a retreat centre I couldn’t at first work out why I felt such a deep sense of relief. It wasn’t that I didn’t have any work to do. It wasn’t that I could spend time reading and pondering. So what was it? Then it dawned on me there were no phones, no papers, no television or radio – the frenetic outside world was shut away. I was ecstatic at being cut off, if only for a few days, from the demands of staying on top of all this new knowledge, new information, new trends and fashions.
Now I’m not suggesting you have to live like a hermit. And I certainly wouldn’t want to give up my phone or my computer. But we need to have a balance. And this one-sided worship of Hermes is way out of balance.
HESTIA — THE FOCUS OF THE HOME
Fortunately there is a natural antidote to Hermes’ frenetic information highway. Her name is Hestia. Hestia (to the Greeks) or Vesta (to the Romans) is the classical goddess of the hearth and home. In Hestia we find the balance needed to offset Hermes’ madness. He races around; she stays put. He looks for the new; she revels in the order of the known. He lures us out into the world, stretching ourselves further and further; she urges us back to the centre, focusing on the deep, quiet needs of the soul. In fact, we’ve already met Hestia in her most primeval form, in the preceding chapter. Although Hestia was very rarely represented in figurative form, she was understood to be present in the heart of every home, in the glowing embers of the household hearth. She was the fire at the centre of the home, the spirit of the home, its organizing soul.
Hestia has a long lineage – she is not just a classical goddess. As far back as archaeologists have discovered remains of human life, they have found evidence of a cult of the hearth and the home fire. Stephanie A. Demetrakopoulos, writing in Spring (1979), notes that the nomadic Vedic Indians were celebrating a cult of the ‘world’ fire back in 1000–2000 BC. The fire bound the worshipper to the Earth and to his family; the rituals represented the ties that exist between people, the Earth, their home and the gods. So Hestia has a long and honourable heritage.
By the time the Greek and Roman civilizations came into being, the worship of the goddess of the hearth and home was of the utmost importance. Hestia was not a showy goddess: she had none of the glamour of Aphrodite or Helios, the power and majesty
