Years ago, I mean years and years ago, I began a quest with Hestia.

I went out seeking, literately speaking, (as in I wrote stories based on prompts and interactions with a group) as I worked to bring Hestia into my own Home, to serve Her at my Hearth.

Too many things got in the way of that process and I let it go.

As I have gone soul-searching these past weeks, I have pulled out books from my personal library. I put my hands on books I read long ago, books that I didn’t finish due to issues and other issues. It struck me, as I pulled out my old art journals and so forth, that this is a part of me that I have missed and that I currently feel the lack of.

Hestia and my Hearth. Except that as the years have passed, it comes to me that Hestia is not the Goddess to whom I own this allegiance.

I am not all that certain there is one particular God or Goddess in relation to everything I need and want in this regard.

What I am doing, what I am asking for, what I am encouraging, and what I am engaging in is Ancestral worship.

I may be calling in Ancestors that I don’t know, because, to be honest, I do not know a great deal of my family, for a variety of reasons. But I feel the connection when They come. Plus, those who do come only come of their own volition.

One thing I have found odd is that only Ancestors from my maternal lineage show up. My paternal Ancestors have been very clear that I am an Outsider and they do not have the time nor the desire to deal with me. That side of the family is cloistered on this side of the Veil and on the other as well. There is nothing I can do to change that. I have learned to be ok with that.

I have spent entirely too much of my lifetime trying to prove I am worthy, trying to prove I am not only good but good enough.

Life is too short to fight this long for acceptance and for love from people who have made it clear they do not care one way or the other.

As I stand now, I live and let live. I hold no grudges. They are what they are. I am what I am. Enough said.

Back to my Hearth.

Years ago, and I mean years ago, when I first began to study Waldorf theology and pedagogy, I learned a great deal about lighting the Home Fires and keeping them lit. About creating a Home, about maintaining a Hearth. I still have my books. I still have my printouts. I still have basically everything that I studied back then.

Although I have not dragged everything out—I already have too much waiting to be sorted and put away as it is—I am ready to re-start this journey. Because I need this journey myself. Because it will also benefit my family, my mind, my soul.

I have the most giving, most open, most amazing husband who has told me that I can do whatever I want in and to this house.

The house has its issues, like the walls that will never be clean based on how they were originally made. Which is fine. They can be scrubbed down, primed, and painted. We have paint waiting for various rooms waiting in the basement.

We have slowly begun the process together as a family, as in all three of us are involved. Now, if only I could convince the dogs to help out. Lol

This is a process that has been in progress for quite a while now. The cleaning out and purging and re-sorting and re-organizing of every room. That idea and desire have not changed.

However, what has changed is, for me, the intentions and the clarity behind why I want to do this, why I need to do this, what needs to happen, how we want this to happen.

It is all about intention.

I have been working on crocheting up blanket after blanket. A blanket for this bed. A blanket for that kid. A throw for the living room.

I didn’t realize how much I need color in my life. Me, who normally wears black or grey most of the time. Me, with the pretty and colorful stickers in my planners. All of that.

I am thinking about the various homes of artists I have seen over the years. The various odd and extreme homes from different television shows. And I start to look around thinking, if we do X, then we can build the cat railings all over this section of the house (while praying no cats knocks the other off or falls while running from room to room as high up as they can).

I am thinking of knitting or, more than likely, crocheting window blankets, as in curtains. Lots of color. Lots of light. And still the guinea pigs take up half the dining room. Lol

I am thinking of not quite becoming a minimalist, but getting rid of all of this stuff that I have held onto for another life, for a different person or people, for whatever reason.

It’s not just about getting rid of things. It is about letting go of things I have held on to for whatever reason, for whatever person.

It’s a little bit funny. I have reached a point in my life where I don’t want to live hanging on to things for other people, even if it is for people I love. Plus, I am letting go of things I got for a person I am no longer, as in I have changed.

There is a lot about letting go of things that is also about reclaiming things.

People say I am reclaiming my power. I am reclaiming who I was then.

That is not what I am doing.

I did not GIVE my power away. I locked it up inside of myself and I left it there. I might poke it with a stick now and then, as if to remind myself of who I could have become, of what I should have done and who I should I have become.

I do not want to be the person I used to be. I am not that person. I am not that woman. I am not that creature. But, the person I was also gathered things together for the person I am now, as well as the person I am evolving into these days. So, there are pieces that I can pick up and move forward with, but there is also a great deal that I can let go of and release and recycle.

Maybe that is what is happening. The letting go of who I was and recycling the things that I still love and still enjoy into who I am now and who I am becoming. Maybe that is how this is going to work for me.

Reclaiming my Hearth, for myself and for my family, for my heart, and for my own health and wellness, this is what I am doing.

It is more than simply sweeping the floor or cleaning the windows. It is more than planting the flowers and watching them grow. It’s about recognizing who I am and what I am becoming, and being the person I have always wanted to be, regardless of other circumstances going on around me.

And I do all of this hand in hand with my Ancestors, with their help and their approval and their blessings. My Ancestors and the Ancestors of my husband.

It’s all a learning process for me. One that I will be happy to share as I go along, if you are interested in hearing what I am going through.

Questions? Comments? Feel free to leave them below.