A Ritual of the Hearth
Photo: Dúchas
The hearth has been weaving itself as a theme through my work with women these past weeks.
Inspired by this, I’ve been reflecting on how the chair closest to the hearth was always coveted in Ireland and is symbolic of invitation and of the hospitality we are known for.
Visitors to the homestead would be given the seat closest to the fire to warm their chilly bones. The seanchaí (‘bearer of old lore’), the traditional storyteller would regale stories and indeed sleep by the hearth.
Some kitchens had a Cailleach or hag’s bed beside the hearth for the old woman of the house.
At Samhain and all souls, the fire would be tended to before bed, allowed to burn along with candles and chairs left out for the souls of returning ancestors who had passed before us.
Cottage Interior by Gerard Dillon, 1952
And so, a few weeks ago on a Sunday, I decided to light a fire and leave a chair beside the hearth sensing into who I would love to offer this traditionally coveted place.
As a goddess deeply associated with protection of the homestead and sacred fire, Goddess Brigid felt like my woman.
As I offered her this special place by my hearth, and within my pulsing heart, which felt reciprocal, I asked of my mythical ancestor, a desire writing it down on a scroll of paper and leaving it on her chair.
My desire was simple. My youngest son was sick, my husband was away for a few days, and I had my other beautiful boy to tend to as well. That week I had clients, I had big creative plans for my work, all the to-do lists, personal meet-ups… so, what was going to give?
How was I going to do everything? Care for my wee man who I knew at this point would be at home for a few days, do the school runs with my other fella with a sick child in tow, organise a household, run a business etc. etc.
The answer was I was not going to do everything.
And so, I tuned into how I could centre pleasure amidst what seemed like a foreboding contraction. I asked Brigid for “healing for Barra” my son and for “an enrichment of time”. That even with limited time for myself in the days ahead, I could expand this time and invite in more depth.
Before I went to bed, I rested in the darkness that enveloped the glowing hearth.
The following morning when I came down the stairs to the chair, it felt like Christmas morning. Like wild magic was brewing.
And sure enough, I experienced an enrichment of time in the days ahead. So instead of fulfilling all of the plans I had, I relinquished and when the wee man was up to it, spent time on sacred land, visiting the ancestors at Dowth or Dubad, which means ‘darkness’ in Gaeilge, a 5,000-year-old sacred home to two passage graves, two tomb wombs.
There is an old Irish proverb:
Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin.
‘There is no hearth, like your own hearth.’
Who will you be leaving a chair out for at your hearth?
If you don’t have a fireside hearth, this simple ritual can be done with a chair and candle, blown out before rest.
Sending love from my hearth to yours.❤️🔥
