When I first became curious about the gods of the hearth fires, it was because I noticed that they seemed timeless, and ubiquitous.  As I read more I realized there were persistent themes among them.

The Greeks and Romans had Hestia/Vesta, who was called Hearth Keeper, yet on examination Her involvement in their world was much deeper than cooking fires.  Hestia received the first and last sacrifices in public and private.  Her fires were carried to light the central city hall for each new colony.  She of all the gods stood alone and guarded the center of Olympus, and of each city-state and each home.  Vesta is guardian of the central fire of Rome, her Vestals can pardon a man they simply meet in the street, and they alone are free of the obligations of family to serve Rome herself.

The Celts had Bridget, not in itself a name but a title: Fiery Arrow.  She was one between, on whose hearth was created food, wonders of metalsmithing, and the words of bards.  She guarded the moment of birth, the moment a woman left one home to join herself to another, and the time of death.  She was born at dawn.  She taught us how to signal with a whistle, and how to keen our mourning.  Her fires were wilder, revolving around clan and family, but no less stable for that wildness.

The Egyptians had Hathor, She who was to the Queen what Horus was to Pharoah.  Egyptian princesses were also always priestesses of Hathor.  She was the fertility, the creative power of Egypt itself, whose rituals always included music and bards, whose protection is sought for children and expectant mothers.  She greets the newly dead, and Her power is strongest where oasis meets desert.  She is both creative and destructive, and when once She abandons Egypt it is the tales of Thoth the historian that return Her to bathe in the Nile and regain who She was.

There are others, where the connections are not as obvious to me yet.  The legends are old and there are layers of interpretations to work through.  But the linkages I find intriguing.

The Hearth is possibly the oldest concept of the divine among civilized peoples. It is the concept of place, of Home and Family and Clan and Village, given power and assigned status as necessary to the world the way we know it. Or at least to the world the way we want it to be.

The duties of Hearthkeepers have always been related to this concept. We are the builders of homes, keepers of memory, extenders of hospitality. Hearthkeepers protect the Fires of Heart, Mind and Body by providing comfort, inspiration, and hope.

The Hearth is where the lost are found (who has not known the candle in the window?), where the traveler finds rest, where the family rejoins and remembers, where tradition is built, and new ideas tested for use in the world. Here were the ancient Laws of Hospitality first written into our collective memory, the laws that say that the Hearth must always offer of itself for any who come to it. This may be food, warmth, shelter, comfort, hope, or anything else within the power of the Hearthkeeper. These laws say also that the guest who takes this hospitality must do so graciously, recognizing the sacrifice of the host, respecting the host's home and family, taking no more than they need and offering no ill, of word or deed, to host or hall.

The Hearth is the center, where the tempests of the outer world cannot enter, neither storm from the sea nor burning light of the sun makes it past those sacred boundaries. There are Laws, old as the hearth fire, that guide the weary to this place of rest and recovery. The Hearth is where food is cooked, to feed the body; where interaction among the family and village takes place, to feed mind and soul; and where rest is found for the weary, and new things brought first by the traveler, that the spirit may be refreshed.

The Hearth is guarded by the Keepers, those who are One Unto Themselves, each serene in their duties, each knowing their place in the world, each the 'calm center of the Universe'. That calm is both exemplary of and strictest requirement for a Keeper: never must emotion of the moment override their duty, their service and guidance, their Remembering of tradition and Judging of new paths. Thus must deepest emotion be held apart, away from the serenity that is the aura and core of a Hearthkeeper.

Hearthkeepers have one primal duty, above all others, though it manifests in many ways: keep lit the Fire. This may be done for the Fire of Inspiration, by creating, whether with words or song or craft. Or it may be done for the Fire of Comfort, by food or cloth or touch. Or it may be done for the Fire of Hope, by encouraging or supporting or accepting. Some Keep only one Fire, most know all Three, and readily supply their fuel.

Places Between are neither one thing or another…neither light or dark, neither in or out, neither part of nor separate. Stonehenge was a place of transition – a place where the living could speak to the dead on days of transition, days when light and dark were equal and the Veil Between Worlds thins at places of power. Houses inhabited by House Spirits are such places, neither human nor fae, borne of the power of one, echoing the power of the other, part of both yet separate, tied to the power of the Earth but not dependent on it, built of Earth but powered by Fire. Fire is also a place between, neither static nor truly flowing, existing for brief moments in the perfection of events. Places Between are inherently sacred because they are places where types of order change, without constant form and outside the laws of Definition, places where those in transition can meet with those whose status is defned by time or events. Places Between are always marked by distinct Forms, forms that set the boundaries of one order’s transition to another. Places Between are always guarded, and these guardians are set to make accessing such places enough effort to require some thought and awareness of the Truth of why this experience is sought. Places Between are the meeting places of elements and regions: sea, land and sky; earth and water; earth and fire; fire and air.

The Hearth is inherently a place of change. Fire is never the same though it sits within the grounding boundaries of the Hearth. Situations and things touched by the Fire of the Hearth are charged as a forge tempers iron to steel, as a cookfire bakes bread, as the master weaver looms wool, and as the bard interprets the sequence of a battle for history’s record.

The Hearth is also a Place Between, sacred in this as doorways, shore lines, and other meeting points. It is a place of transformation, where the primal fire is held by society’s borders, where Fire’s energy is harnessed for human use. This is where new things outside of society meet established traditions and are judged for their worth. Here the new is blessed by the old, as a bride’s fire is laid from coals of her mother’s house. The Hearth is a place of Transitions, and the Hearthkeeper is also the guard and guide of these transitions, that their effects be as positive as possible. The Hearthkeeper shapes transitions in the Fires of the Head, Heart, and Hands, crafting them to maximize their usefulness to those who will be affected.

We hold Her Fire in three ways: Fire of the Head, Fire of the Heart, and Fire of the Hands.  These three fires must be in balance to maintain stability, but that balance is dynamic, with one fire sometimes burning brighter than the others for a time then banking to recharge.

Fire of the Head is the power of the mind: thought, learning, creating with language, instituting change through the passage of ideas.  This is the Fire of poets and scientists, lawyers and journalists.  This Fire is fed by reading, talking to others, and working through problems and complicated situations.

Fire of the Heart is the power of comfort: emotion, doing for others, bringing warmth and ease both physical and emotional, providing a haven.  This is the Fire of cooks and therapists, householders and musicians.  This Fire is fed by listening, cleaning and organizing, and making others, human and not, feel truly welcome.

Fire of the Hands is the power of making: crafting, building, creating with physical things.  This is the Fire of needlework and carpenters, painters and beaders.  This Fire is fed by itself – the gradual building of something beautiful that touches the Heart and Head from nothing.

In my life, I try to balance the Fires, realizing that there are times when I have stored more fuel for one than another, and thus will feel more like writing a paper than cleaning, or woodcarving than talking to colleagues.  These flows move in cycles, and that which I do not feel capable of one day I will soon find refueled and ready to work.  I also know that the Fires feed each other, and thus the more I do with each individually, the more I build up all of them.

When you focus too much on one fire, the others will begin to burn lower, unfueled and untended, and eventually the whole will become unbalanced.  This can result in a number of physical and psychological issues.  One cannot forget that for a Fire to burn it must have fuel, a spark of heat, and air – tending a Fire keeps all three needs in balance.

She has Three Aspects – the Poet, the Healer, and the Crafter.  These have each had different responsibilities throughout time, but each is simply a face of the Three-in-One. Thus am I, as a Keeper of the Hearth, also three-in-one, sometimes a poet, sometimes a healer, and sometimes a crafter, often in the same day.  So long as I can find the Flame that powers the Aspect, I can bring that energy, that Fire, to bear on whatever issue is before me.  Throughout the cycle of the Year, each Aspect spirals to power and then ebbs – summer and fall see the season change from poet to crafter, winter moves from crafter to healer, spring is healer to poet, yet no Aspect reigns truly alone within the seasons.  My garden grows with the Poet, yet the Healer suggests ways to bring greater comfort to the house and plants to improve the harvest.  Cooler weather brings an impetus to work in the shop, yet the Crafter must also listen to the planning of the Poet for things to make.  Nothing She guides is static; Her Flame is ever moving, ever flickering, standing where its fuel is placed, yet always moving in a spiral of time and energy.

I have seen Her faces, each moving into another as Her Voice, which is always Hers, speaks of ideas, or healing, or making, each in turn.  To know Fire is to understand that everchanging, everstatic Being, to recognize that power in any form can bring forth wonders, or burn with pain.  The fuel we place at Her Hearth, the atmosphere it breathes, and the spark with which we light it – all color the light and temper the power of Her Flame.

Everyone who follows a path has elements of their personality defined by the path, and how far along it they have come. Many of these elements are good things, things that define and give shape to a person's Faith by presenting that belief system to the world in their actions and interactions. Then there are the quirks, the little oddball things that come into being because of the Path, even when they aren't useful; they are rarely overwhelming enough to require complete excisement, but they can be confusing and embarassing.

For the elements, this is an exploration. For the quirks, this is an apology.

Hearthkeepers are the builders of homes, keepers of memory, extenders of hospitality. They protect the Fires of Heart, Mind and Body by providing comfort, inspiration, and hope. They can also be just a little bit overwhelming at times to those with whom they live and work, caught up in the Fire of Creativity, arguing passionately the relative merits of social change or technological innovation, or 'fixing' the structure and methods of each organization to which they belong.

One quirk of Hearthkeepers comes in the need for order, the requirement for things to go as expected. Though Keepers can adapt to any situation or experience, it is rarely without irritation, on their parts and the parts of those around them. They do not like to have schedules changed suddenly, plans altered, or unexpected problems show up. When they have not grown enough to have resigned themselves to their own adaptability, Keepers can become frustrated when dealing with too many new things at a time, or with things for which they have no prior experience from which to adapt to the new circumstances. Sometimes they can become paralyzed by a lack of information on how to deal with a situation totally outside their knowledge. At other times they will require that those around them provide firm commitments for activities of all kinds. With this quirk, it is good to remember that promises are not to be made lightly, nor the beds of rivers moved in a day. When a Keeper finally grows out of this quirk, they recognize their own ability to do the best they can with what they have, where they are, including where and when to seek out more information. Keepers are truly the most adaptable of human beings, able to compare what is with what has been, and look forward to what might be; this allows for a careful threading of the paths of history, and a steady move towards the future no matter the distractions of the present.

By their natures, Keepers build within a social structure. They judge the best of the present and build on the strengths of the past to move towards the future. This is not easy. It requires clear thought, an awareness of the larger picture, a passion for orderly progress, and a willingness to go it alone if what the Keeper sees clearly must be is not what the rest of the village/city/nation wants. Keepers are the creative types, the writers, sewers, beaders, woodworkers, gardeners, and crafters who make things because they enjoy it, and will often give it away or donate it to charity. They are cooks and house-cleaners, caregivers and librarians, the organizers who straighten up whatever they come into contact with, whether rooms or social groups.

Keepers can become focused on this creating, only feeling alive when they make or do for others, compelled by something within themselves to serve. This service, without the internal validation that recognizes the value of service to another and knows that to maintain that value it must be done selflessly and then gifted, becomes a kind of emotional slavery. This is the first gate of knowledge for a Hearthkeeper - to know that their service is done because they will, and not because they must; to serve with joy for the gifting and sharing it is. One of the elements of a Hearthkeeper is their willingness to aid without thought of recognition, where they are needed, so long as their presence is not taken for granted. Cherish hospitality, value its comfort, understand that a Gift must be both freely given and freely accepted.

Another task of importance of Hearthkeepers is judging the present. Especially in this time when changes come faster and thicker each day and every newscast brings technology, philosophy, or information brand new to the world, it is too easy to hold up one's hands and say, "There is nothing more of value here. What is already is more than enough, and nothing good enough to justify the effort will be found among these too-many ideas." Keepers must look to the value of what becomes, see what it adds to the world, see what it teaches, if it eases pain or suffering, if it increases joy, if it is worth keeping in the world through generations. Judging the value of 'the coming thing' is hard, but the Keeper cannot say, "What we have is the best, there will be no better"; Time has proven that wrong again and again. A fear of that which is new leaves the Keeper unable to provide the care and comfort needed, since without knowing what is, you can only work from what has been, and there is no inspiring spark in that. This is the second gate of knowledge for a Hearthkeeper - to judge the value of change, be willing to adapt as the world around evolves, to keep only that which brings value and not indulge in every whim or trend. One of the elements of a Hearthkeeper is their willingness to adopt new ideas, new technology, or new methods of doing things, so long as these things are understandable to them, and they are truly shown value. A Hearthkeeper's Home will not have the 'coming thing', but will have those recent things that have lasting value, whether it is seen by the world or not.

As keepers of memory, Hearthkeepers Remember the important things in the world - births, deaths, names, places, how to create, and how to destroy. This memory joins past to future, and warms the present. This memory is not just static recording, but also the willingness to rediscover what has been, whether craft or history or family, and place all in context with what is. Memory, and the knowledge it accumulates, is an element of the Hearthkeeper, whose Home will most likely have many books, the memories of generations, and who will know many odd things about many odd subjects. The pitfalls of this is living in and through memories instead of with them. This is the third gate of knowledge for the Hearthkeeper - to Remember, and to Hold in Memory, without drowning in the past. Especially when the memories are painful, it is too easy to refuse to add more to them, to resist the knowledge of war when war fills many dreams; to resist the knowledge of poverty and famine, when the plights of others already stand sentinel in the Mind. She has given us the cleansing Fire to gift these memories, and the overwhelming emotion they hold, and we cannot fear to Step Within, for as we can lock ourselves into the emotional slavery of Service, and bind ourselves with the stubbornness of Judgement, so too can we drown in the pain of too much Memory.

Each gate, once passed, brings the Keeper closer to the true nature of the Path - Hearthkeepers stand strong, One-Unto-Themselves, the calm center of the universe...but they do not stand alone. Keepers Tend the Fire, which is shared with all who venture within it's Hall, and that Fire nurtures and sustains the Keepers as they nurture and sustain it, Burning through the pain and fear that will not let a Keeper move along the Path, providing light to guide the Keeper onward to the future, warming the present with its steady Flame. The Path of the Hearthkeeper is one of ever-learning and growing, but for those who walk it, it speaks to heart and mind as no other.

The members of a House are a Hearthkeeper’s Family…not necessarily blood relatives but those who come to the Hearth and bring life to the Hearth, giving energy of living and doing and being and loving to the Flame so that it may live. They offer first-and-last-fruits, often times without being aware of what they give. They are beloved of the Flame and bask in its warmth, are invigorated and inspired by it, and rest easy in its love. Without the obligation of duty, all things done by the Hearthkeeper for members of the House are gifts – freely given and freely taken, offerings of love and friendship. Things done for supplicants, aware of that status or not, are religious obligations subject to older rules, other standards.

A hearthkeeper’s home is always special, a place of comfort and sanctuary. Should they desire, however, to broaden this, they may create the proper energies to sanctify the home, making it space sacred to the Hearth, a Temple of the Eternal Flame whose everburning fire will throw a larger light and offer a broader warmth than just for the Family. This space is created by Naming the Home and sanctifying the newly Named space to the Hearth and its principles [see below for sample ceremony]. It is not always desireable or necessary for a Hearthkeeper to expand the function of their workspace. Many times the Family that needs the keeper and Her gifts will find their way to the Home and come together in other contexts to make use of the flame. When a Home is sanctified, made sacred as a shelter of the ever-burning, it sends a signal, a light, that draws not only Family but travelers, wayfarers, and seekers of the Flame.

One ritual for sanctifying the home is as follows. It works best when the home is already 'seasoned' by the hearthkeeper, having been kept for at least a year and a day, and you must have a Name chosen, though not yet used, and a nameplate showing it to be placed in the home.

• Cleanse the home completely, physically and otherwise.

• Set a fire in the fireplace, or arrange a long burning candle, one gotten specifically for the purpose, on a fire safe dish in the kitchen. Do not light the flame yet.

• Choose where to place the nameplate (central and prominent are important) and put up the hangers.

• Have focus objects prepared for permanent placement at cardinal points in the house. These can be representations of the elements, aspects of deity, sacred herbs or stone, anything you can empower to cast a permanent Circle within the home.

• Cleanse yourself and anyone who will step through this rite with you.

• At dusk or dawn or midnight (one of the transition points) begin the rite.

• Take a candle last burned at your previous home, or a candle burned at your altar, and stand outside the main entryway door to light it. As you light it, speak to the Hearth's power, in whatever form you know It - Bridgit, Hestia, Vesta, Sif, Hathor or Isis are a few relevant Names - asking that the warmth, joy, and love brought earlier by this light be here now.

• Carry the light over the home's threshold. As you cross the threshold say, "As Her light gave life and joy to the first Home, let it be felt here."

• Starting with the first room you enter, and going deosil to all in the house, ending where your fire/candle is prepared, stand in the center of each and say, "Her light shines within us, we are the keepers of Her Fire. Let Her Fire bring It's blessings to this place."

• When you reach the room where the fire/candle is set, go to each of the cardinal corners (north, south, east, and west) deosil and say, "Her power light the Heart of the Home, Her love lights the Hearth of the Home, Her fire warms the Heart of the Home, and Her will supports the Heart of the Home," speaking one phrase at each corner.

• Light the fire/candle with the flame you carry, saying, "As the flame of knowledge passes from one to the next, as the warmth of healing is give by one to another, as the fire of love is shared each to the other, so Her light is shared from the past to now. May the light of the Hearthmother shed Her blessings throughout this home."

• Take each of the cardinal foci individually and place it in the appropriate location, setting it to hold the element or aspect where it will not be disturbed.

• Pick up the nameplate and pass it three times through the flame you have lit saying, "By Her love, we give you heart. By Her joy, we give you compassion. By Her memory, we give you wisdom."

• Place the nameplate on its hangers, saying, "By Her will and our Hands we Name thee. By our joy and Her love, we name thee. By our knowledge and Her wisdom, we Name thee...," and speak the Name you have chosen for your Home. Continue, "Hold thy Name as thy form, and know that Home is Hearth, and Hearth is sacred before all. Blessed Be."

• Celebrate with food and drink.

 The work of the home is a Hearthkeeper’s sacred duty, and is best seen as such. When you look upon sweeping, vaccuuming, washing and straightening as bringing light and warmth and love to each nook and cranny of your home, you give the energy you expend towards the physical shell of the house a joy and love that is absorbed by the spirtual heart of the house, its inner fire or hestia, a gift as important as any fuel we feed our own fires. In this same vein, housework done over time, a little bit each day, gives more power and strength as it helps you to focus on the house some each day, gives you a reason to recognize the joy your home brings you. Taking your time and doing one room or set of rooms each day lets you appreciate all over again a certain print or painting in your bedroom, the way the light shines in to dapple the leaves of the plants in the living room, or the suncatcher hanging from the kitchen window.

Improvements to the home can have as good or better effects than cleaning, since they strengthen the form of the house and in turn strengthen your commitment to it and your awareness of it. Painting and tiling are of course great projects, but just hanging a new picture, rearranging furniture, or getting new cushions or bedclothes will invigorate a house in many subtle ways.

Know also that the Hearthkeeper is bound to the whole, and never to any one, person or family. This was seen in other days as a requirement of virginity; in truth it simply means never married as society knows marriage - tied to one family or person by holy oath and personal honor. Keepers are guides and guardians to all, and must be free to help any who seeks the hospitality of their Homes, the gifts of their Fire. That is another of the oldest laws.

Marriage creates a bond of obligation, a vow of duty requiring and reminding the persons involved that they have chosen to be responsible for each other and the progeny of their House, the legacy of their bond. The oath of marriage requires that these speakers support each other and hold to each other and their legacy above all others, letting no other duty or vow or need come between them. This is the promise of marriage: we who stand before society today are pledged in life and love first to each other, and then to our legacy, and then to anything or anyone else. This seeks to guarantee that those who speak these vows will be always truthful, loyal, and thoughtful first of their partner, and then of any other, that neither will ever face any difficulty in the world alone so long as they live.

Thus is the Hearthkeeper is always One Unto Herself when she takes up her duty to the Hearth, for the Hearth respects the power of the oath, and requires that Hearthkeepers be available to support any who seek the sanctuary of the Hearth, who need the creative spark of the flame, or who desire the healing and cleansing of the fire. We cannot in this duty say to another, “I will hold you and your needs above all else, for you are more to me than duty or honor.” When we are called to serve Her, and it is not in all lives and times that we must do so, but when we are called we must be free to place this sacred and ancient duty above all others. We do not need to be alone in this, and Hearthkeepers will often gather around them a Household that lives within the circle of the flame, loving and aiding as they can. But we cannot take oath to another, for duty to the Hearth is foremost when She Calls.

 I believe in fire.  I believe in the careful fires my father taught me to build, log on log, each laid just so to provide the perfect fuel for a controlled, long-lived blaze.  I also believe in the roaring bonfires lit at the end of the season to reduce the great piles of summer brush to ash.  I believe in children’s campfires, the fires around which songs are sung and stories told of other nights reflected through time in the dancing flames.

I believe in the blue gas fires in my grandmother’s stove, fires that lit with a hiss and pop, then cooked with only the slightest height the meals of Sundays and holidays, food of friends and family, food of the summer garden, of funerals and wedding showers.

 I believe in fireworks with their beautiful guiltless explosions of light and noise, and the soft glow of the cigars my uncles smoked to light the tiny wicks and inspire the memories of other summer nights, the stories of other guiltless pleasures.

 I believe in fireflies, in faerie lights that tempt you further into a soft, sweet darkness heavy with life, lights that lead you on without ever showing you where you walk.

 I believe in lightning, and the sudden rush of chill and rain it heralds in the thick damp atmosphere of a July afternoon crackling with potential.

 Fire defines the moments of my life – the quick flash of a childhood crush, the slow heady burn of love in soul and body, the searing ache of loss that is death, the bright flush of pride in accomplishment, the easy simmer that is life in a warm busy home.

 I can watch the leap of a multihued flame as I stoke the blazes of my life – the care and sharing, fear and joys that fuel the fire of love shared; the pride, effort and ambition that stoke the torch of my work; the hospitality, love and laughter that lights my home and the extended family of friends who always return to it.

 I believe that nothing stays the same once it has touched fire, but that fire is limited by what fuels it.  What you feed the fire is reflected in the flames, and the fuels we burn – love, anger, fear, compassion – reflect in the lives we lead.  We choose the lights we show the world, the fires we burn for ourselves and others, the fuels we use to keep our flames alive.

 I believe in the fires of life, the welcoming glow of a life lived well, and the long-lived embers from which other lives may spark.

Do you ever wonder why people will play a game of golf at the same course three times a week for years?

The greens keepers change the courses slightly every few months so its never quite the same course, the scenery is lovely, and you keep getting better at a game you play only against yourself.

In life as I know it, each time you are born, you don't always meet the same people, you are rarely in the same place, speaking the same language, or learning the same version of history.  And when you do meet friends you've known before, they are very good friends, like slipping on an old glove ;).  I'm not sure which is better, making new friends with people you've never ever met before or finding old friends and getting to know each other again.

Have you ever read Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency?  His view of the universe is correct:  everything is connected, every action has a ripple effect.  Everything we do, everything we learn affects not only us but things around us, things we might not even realize we are affecting.  Its a most lovely and complicated dance that is reflected in the fantastically ordered chaos that is the universe in all its magnitude of galaxies and quasars, and all its minutiae of atoms and quarks.  In a way that is so human, a concept that is frightening and comforting at the same time, the universe is showing off, giving us things of beauty to appreciate and learn about so we can appreciate them even more.  That, I think, is what's so hard: the universe has placed us here for reasons we just aren't entirely equipped to understand, but all its asking us to do is learn, and keep on learning until we can understand.  Appreciate the mysteries, big and small, for what they are; enjoy the beauty, the complexity, the serendipity, the imp of the perverse.

The smile in your heart, as someone keeps pointing out to me, sees without judgment, marvels without questioning.  Life is a gift as well as a journey, and getting out is just taking a break to rest up.  Why would you want to quit when you haven't seen everything yet?  We help each other, since we all know things that those around us are still trying to learn; witness our recent discussions in which we've explored a lesson I have been beating my head against for some time now.  No two paths are ever alike, because we learn different things at different times and in different ways, so no one can really tell you how to "live right".  Your spiral of learning is never exatly the same as someone else's, but sometimes they get to overlap.

Many religions teach that life is a poor substitute for the real thing, which is only to be found when life ends and only if you meet some artificial standard of goodness.  If that is the case, why live?  This view of life as a punishment instead of a reward is what makes people afraid of the race, afraid to fail, afraid to try again.  The universe will not give up on you even if you give up on it; hell is a human creation.

I don't fear living, I don't fear dying.  I've done both many times.

I fear hurting other people, I fear letting people down, I fear being less than I can be. I've done those, too.

I love the complexity of the universe, the mind-numbing wrench of paradigm that is understanding quantum theory, the unstoppable expansion of vision that is realizing how someone completely different from you sees your world, the chipmunk that keeps redigging a hole next to my back steps no matter how often it gets filled in, watching my aloe vera bloom for the first time ever, the burst of brilliance and pure joy that is a spacecraft launching at night, the uneven symmetry of a spider web.  And that's just from this life.  I have a lot of memories, some that don't belong here and now, and sometimes I can bring them out and shuffle through them and enjoy what was, knowing that I'll keep adding what is.

Cynicism is fear dressed as bravado.  It can't handle someone sticking their tongue out at it, nor does it see the smile.  Living is learning.  And learning is all the universe asks of us.

Blackberries are sacred to Brigid, and the more I learn the more I understand why. They are members of the rose family, and their pure white flowers drift over the wildlands in May and June. The fruits are best gathered wild, are very high in nutrients, and cooking only increases their savor. They are my favorite treats and always remind me of summer.

The sweetest rewards can only be reached through thorns.

No matter how hard you try to avoid it, you will get scratched. Don't let that stop you...you'll heal.

Others are there for the same goals you are; figure out how much you can share and remember they have the same right to earned rewards that you do.

Don't be greedy; take only what you need, and what you will use, and leave the rest for another.

Make certain you look at each branch from multiple angles; not every berry is visible from just one perspective.

 Just because a vine has no fruit now doesn't make it barren; next year's fruit grows on this year's bramble.

Blackberries attract predators as well as harvesters. Keep an eye open for those who are there only to feed on those who work to gather their food.

Such treats are always best when shared. Pick some for yourself and some for those who may no longer be able to gather all the joys of life. The trade you get in smiles and thanks will reward your diligence.

Of the sabbats, the ancient solar holy days, those celebrating the light and hospitality are most important for Hearthkeepers. Samhain, Yule, Imbolc, and Midsummer are the holy days at which the Hearthkeeper makes some special preparation.

Samhain

Samhain is the Memorial of the Dead, the day of celebration and remembrance for those who have passed, both within the last year-and-a-day, and before. Here the Hearthkeeper brings joyful and positive energy to keep the thinning of the Veil-Between-Worlds from attracting things of ill will. The decoration of Hearth and Home with plants and symbols of death and power, the lighting of candles to guide the living and the dead, and giving treats to children and adults who come calling all ease the tension of the memories of the dead. And they will be remembered, for this is the night when their spirits can come, though usually only in dreams or memories, to touch again those they have loved, before they pass the final crossing.

During this sabbat, remember those who have passed, especially if it has not been a year-and-a-day since their departure. Remember who they were, things they loved, cook food they enjoyed, sing songs they knew, reflect on things they taught you, and finally wish them well. Such a gesture, even if they have crossed the threshold in full, will bless the Hearth and give them Guide in their journey.

Yule

Yule is the Winter Feast, the time to celebrate family and friends and the good things life has brought. This is when the Hearthkeeper dresses the Hearth and Home in their very best, lights candles to laugh at the winter darkness, and Gifts family and friends with hospitality and joy without restraint. The energy and joy this brings to the Hearth will warm the Home long after the sleep of winter has re-established itself. This is the sabbat that celebrates the idea that too much is just enough, that whatever we can do to offer of ourselves is more than a gift, it is a Giving to be remembered by the gift.

We hear often that this time of year is too commercial or secular or stressful; we must remember that, for the Hearth, the gift is not important, except as a symbol of the connection between Giver and Recipient. Thus a simple photo in a frame may be more cherished than a computer, so long as it carries with it the power of that connection. The power of this sabbat lies in the Giving: touching heart to heart and soul to soul to bring joy to another.

Imbolc

Imbolc is our holy day, the Festival of Lights, when we celebrate Her wakening and the re-emergence of the energy of living from the long sleep of winter. We begin to feel again the touch of Creativity, the need to make and do and grow, and we celebrate this by lighting candles, cleaning the sleep from Hearth and Home and family, whether they’re ready for it or not. We have rested since the celebrations of Yule, and now we glory in the first stirrings of Awakening. We begin to plan our year, and gardens, and renovations, and repairs, and new hobbies, and vacations, and all the other things we can do with the wheel that curves before us. The white candles and cloths are symbols of the blank slate with which we have to work, the possibilities of colors we can add, and the things we can learn. Often this is the holy day on which we take a new Name to symbolize some change undergone or wanted, and this is the Day on which we Name our Homes, our sacred places.

Imbolc is the time for the Hearthkeeper to clean the altar, the room in the house that is most Hearth (kitchen or living room usually), and throw out or bury the things they wish to be rid of, and begin bringing in the things they wish to add to their lives. This is spring cleaning of Mind, Heart, Hands and Creative Center – when we take a good, hard look at what we have and decide if we are really going to do anything with it for the next year, clean out all the cobwebs, and change the linens to spring colors. Take stock of who you are, write down (as She taught us so long ago) one thing you will change or add or improve about each part of yourself, and Gift your Home with cleanliness and the joy of awakening. Light white candles in each room as you are done, to mark its preparation and let the light reflect onto its walls. Bring the scents of spring into the Home with early flowers and fresh breezes when you can. Let your joy energize the Hearth and Home.

Midsummer

Midsummer is the Longest Day, the time when the sun bathes the world in its glow longer than any other day of the year, and at or near the time when many of us first came into this life. We are Children of Light, and the Fires lit on Midsummer mark a height of power before the resting of late summer and the preparations for winter. At Midsummer, we have begun to see the fruits of our springtime awakening, and we can stop a moment to celebrate the joy of living. This is when we rest for a time after the first blush of effort, before the late-season harvest must begin with all its bustle and preparations. Here our work is at its easiest, for food is plentiful, comfort readily found, and ills of the past are lost in contentment. Here we can watch the fire burn high, knowing that tomorrow we will need to bank it in preparation for later hardship, but for now we can celebrate without regret the bounty we have brought.