Читать книгу Spirit of the Home: How to make your home a sanctuary - Jane Alexander - Страница 10

3

THE SPIRITS OF THE HOME

DO YOU BELIEVE A HOUSE possesses spirits or is it just superstitious nonsense? Let me tell you a strange story. When I was a student, six of us shared an apartment and one of my room-mates, Gina, was Malaysian. She was a highly intelligent and very down-to-earth woman who was studying architecture. So I was stunned one day when she calmly appeared in our kitchen and announced that she had just seen our ‘house spirit’. ‘What did it look like?’ I asked, laughing, quite convinced she was having a joke. ‘Oh, it’s a man, about eight feet tall, very stern and imposing,’ she replied, in all seriousness. ‘Where is he? Where did you see him?’ I then asked. ‘In the shower,’ she replied. We all laughed out loud at this but, strangely enough, we all stopped using the shower and had baths instead. The idea of sharing a shower with an eight-foot Malaysian house spirit was a little unnerving, to put it mildly. Gina explained that in Malaysia every house, every living space (however small) has its own household spirit. She said that we shouldn’t be nervous of him; he was there to guard us and keep us safe. She found it strange that we should not believe in spirits, and that we should not look to our own native spirits to protect us and our homes.

Most Westerners would agree that there are no such things as spirits of the house; guardians of the threshold; invisible entities which share our space. Yet we’re in the minority. The vast number of non-Western cultures firmly believe in spirits: their homes are full of household gods, spirits and the souls of their ancestors. Their homes are alive, not just with the physical bodies of the humans who live in them, but with the energetic bodies of more ethereal creatures. We may mock, but the same beliefs ran through our own cultures until not so long ago. Throughout Europe, houses had a veritable army of esoteric helpers: pixies and fairies; brownies and banniks. Early American settlers painted protective symbols on their houses and barns to keep away bad spirits; and put out a bowl of cream to attract the good.

THE SPIRITS AND SPRITES OF THE HOME

Look through a book on the folklore of virtually any country and culture and the story is the same. In Scotland and parts of England there are brownies who attach themselves to a particular house and come out at night to perform the tasks that need doing – repairing, sweeping and protecting the livestock and family. In Wales there is the pwca, in Ireland the puca or pooka, in Denmark the puge. In the Baltic states a similar brownie-like figure is known as the puk. The names are almost identical and their functions are the same: to guard and help the household, providing the household respects and rewards them. Similar beings are the shvod of America, the kikimora of Russia, the haltia of Finland, the befana of Italy, the nisse of Scandinavia, the nat of Burma, the phi of Thailand. In Germany they are known as kobolds and will soothe the children of the house with sweet songs. In African folklore the protective spirits are aiza; in Lithuania the house spirits are aitvaras who appear as a cock inside the house and a fiery dragon outside.

Some spirits had specific tasks and places of abode – the skritek of Slavic lore dwelt behind the oven and was represented as a small boy, with his arms crossed and wearing a crown. His statue was placed on the hearth to guard the house when the family was not there. The cluricaun is an Irish spirit who lives in the wine cellar; in Germany he is known as the biersal and will keep everything spick-and-span – providing he is given a jug of beer every day. In Russia there is even the bannik, the spirit of the bathtub who needs to be placated by leaving a little water in the bath and some soap ready to hand, for him to use should the mood so take him.

All these folkloric spirits had features in common. They were tricky spirits, willing to help in whatever way they could – providing you earned their favour. If you did not appreciate them or failed to leave the requisite gifts (usually some food or a bowl of milk or cream) they would either simply fade away or plague the household with their mischief. They were shy beings, coming out only at night. And they were very proud. Virtually every custom says that, although you should show respect and gratitude, it should not be obvious. The reward should be left casually, as if by accident. And if you gave a brownie or one of his cousins a suit of clothes as a thank-you, you would never see him again. Peasant households took their spirits very seriously, leaving one of the best cakes and milk, or some other food, in the kitchen. Farmers might also leave one cow unmilked for the fairies’ use, or let the first few drops of milk fall when they milked, as the fairies’ rightful due.

HOUSEHOLD SPIRITS OF THE CLASSICAL WORLD

In ancient Greece and Rome the home was packed full of gods, goddesses and a veritable army of household spirits. We have already met Hestia and Hermes but the Greeks would also honour Aphrodite in the home by introducing beauty and sensuality. In return she would endow the house with laughter, games, joy and peace. Hera was the goddess of marriage and she ruled over the formal areas of the house – the reception hall, the sitting room, the formal dining room: she expected visitors to be treated with due respect and honour. She revels in regular order and the smooth running of a house. In the ancient calendar the first day of every month, the Kalends, were dedicated to Hera. Little houses were made of clay as devotional objects sacred to her. Hestia was acknowledged every day but while she ruled the hearth, Demeter cooked on it – she bakes the bread and feeds the family. She is the great carer, the archetypal Mother. In the study, the library, the den you would find Athena, nose in a book. In a quiet space of her own, curled up on a window-seat or outside in a wild part of the garden you might catch Artemis.

In Roman households, Janus, the two-headed god, protected the gateway, the threshold to the house – looking both inwards and outwards, overseeing the family’s coming and going and watching out for unwelcome intruders. Then there were two specific divisions of household spirit: the lares and the penates. The penates were worshipped alongside Vesta (Hestia) and were originally the gods of the storeroom. They were responsible for the household’s food supply, and images of them, made of wax or ivory, were worshipped at shrines in the house. A fire was kept burning in their honour. The lares were originally considered to be the spirits of the ancestors. Head of the lares was the lar familiaris, the spirit of the founding ancestor of the family. Both lares and penates would receive worship and would be given offerings of food and wine in exchange for their role in protecting the house and family.

In China, the cult of dead ancestors was, and often still is, an essential part of life. Chinese homes have pictures of the ancestors and a little stove where they light incense. Here they pray to their ancestors and remember them. In return the ancestors are thought to guard the house and bring luck to those still living. There is a sense of continuation through the generations.

THE RETURN OF THE SPIRITS

All very interesting, but all folklore and superstition, you might think. What relevance could these various spirits and gods possibly have for us today? Architect Christopher Day states categorically that:

Every place should have a spirit; indeed, unless it has been destroyed by brutal unresponsive actions, every place does.

Jungian analyst Marion Woodman agrees:

Older cultures always left room for the gods at the threshold and fireside, and in other parts of the home. If the possibility of the intersection of human and divine is recognized in daily life, then ritual does not seem foreign.

But what do we do in our houses? We may not be guilty of brutal actions, but certainly we’re unresponsive to the spirits of our home. And we rarely allow even the possibility Marion Woodman begs, of a relationship between ourselves and the gods, spirits and energetic forces of the house. And yet, are our houses really completely empty of spirit life? Have the gods, angels and the household imps and sprites really abandoned us, sick of our neglect? I’m not so sure. How often do you hear people complaining when they mislay things in the house that ‘the poltergeist must have moved it’ or the ‘fairies have been here again’? And how do we account for people like my old room-mate Gina who so clearly ‘saw’ the spirit of the house?

Children, in particular, are very open to such spirits. I will never forget the time that my nephew saw ‘someone’ on the bed. He was only small, maybe three, and had been told specifically not to go into my grandmother’s room. So my mother and I were surprised when he came into the kitchen with a very guilty look on his face. ‘Who’s that man lying on Nan’s bed?’ he asked. ‘What man?’ we replied, somewhat alarmed. He looked worried and beckoned us to follow him. We walked in the room (with some trepidation, imagining a burglar) but there was no-one there. ‘Is he still there?’ my mother asked. ‘Yes, on the bed,’ he replied and giggled. When we asked him why he was laughing he said, ‘Because he’s funny.’ He was clearly telling the truth and it was all a bit spooky. Incidentally, we didn’t tell my grandmother that she had extra company in her bed!

Lots of people swear they have seen spirits or ghosts in their houses. Sometimes these seem to be frightening but often they appear to be benign. Another common experience is that of seeing something ‘out of the corner of your eye’, often an animal-like shape. Spirits do not always take human form and many cultures believe in spirit animals as guardians and guides. The Roman genius of the place, another guardian spirit, was often portrayed as a serpent. In India, cobras are considered sacred and it’s not uncommon for a family to live quite happily with a cobra in the attic, protecting the house on a psychic level and keeping down the rats on the practical level. A friend of mine recalls a house in India where she would hear a giant cobra moving around in the attic at night and how the family would leave a saucer of milk for it, to keep it happy and content. Once again, this is an example of the idea of gifts of food for the spirit. And remember the serpent or dragon forms of the puk and the aitvaras.

Personally, I love the idea of a house filled with kindly spirits.

And I don’t think it would take that much to bring them back to our consciousness. After all, we readily invoke Saint Anthony when we lose something; we pray for our safety and well-being, to be kept safe through the night. It’s only a small step further to imagine our houses filled with a whole host of guardian spirits. I don’t think it matters whether you envisage them as pixies and lares or as angels or as gods. The important part is recognizing that the house is full of energetic forces as real as you and I.

THE PROTECTING LARES

I’d like to tell one more tale on this subject, to show how these old, seemingly forgotten spirits seem to have some power, and some trickster qualities too. My analyst, Jane Mayers, had set up and run a place called The Pelican Centre. It was a wonderful centre, a very healing and sacred space which offered retreats, art therapy and workshops on things Jungian. Sadly, the centre had to close and Jane had to put the beautiful medieval house up for sale. Jane is a great believer in the lares, and The Pelican had two representations of them as household gods: a small figure of Ganesh (the Hindu elephant god) and a tiny Raku figure called the ‘kiln god’ because he always guarded the kiln during its firings. Both resided on top of the exposed beams in the low-ceilinged parlour. Jane desperately wanted to sell the house to people who would continue to love and care for it as she had and had shown many people around the house. One particular couple filled her with horror: they openly talked about ripping the fabric of the house to bits; dividing it in half, pulling up the garden and generally tearing apart its very soul. Jane had taken down the lares during viewing but as they approached the spot in the parlour where the lares usually sat, the man suddenly stopped. ‘Oh I don’t like this at all,’ he said, his hand moving to precisely the spot where the lares usually lived. Apparently he thought the beams looked unsafe but also simply felt ‘uncomfortable’. It was as if the lares were putting him off, warning him away, Jane told me with amazement.

Start to make room for the spirits by allowing yourself the thought that such things may be possible. Don’t dismiss them out of hand. If you feel comfortable with the idea of sharing your home with unseen visitors, you could try some of the suggestions below. Remember that you can envisage these visitors in any shape you like: if you have a religious belief you may prefer to see them as angels or divine beings. If you feel happy with the classical archetypes, then the gods and goddesses of the home might feel more comfortable. If you’re an earthy or pagan type you may revel in the idea of mischievous elemental beings and brownies.

THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS

 In ancient Rome food that fell to the floor was at once considered to belong to the household spirits. Don’t sweep it up immediately but give the spirits of the dead at least a while to take their fill before sweeping it up. Of course, if you have a dog (your very own Cerberus, mythological guard-dog of the underworld) you probably won’t have to clean up at all.

 If you like the idea of having your own brownie or spirit-helper, follow the age-old rules: leave out a saucer of milk or cream and maybe a couple of biscuits (we still retain this custom at Christmas, leaving mince pies and a glass of sherry out for Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas).

 Find your own images to represent the lares and penates. Find a figure or image you like and tuck it away in a place from where it can look out over the house. I have a small cat figure I made at The Pelican Centre which acts as the head lar of my house – because the creature I ‘see’ out of the corner of my eye is always a cat. It could be an angel, or a Hindu god or a good-luck piskie.

 We’ll meet Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love, in the following chapters, but evoke her blessing by making your house as beautiful as possible. Indulge her with fresh flowers (she is also goddess of flowers), a sumptuous cushion or sweet-smelling herb pillow; sweet scents and objects which please the eye.

 Indulge Artemis by throwing open all the windows of your house when the fresh breezes of spring blow. She loves the open air and the call of the wild. She too will love flowers – particularly armfuls of blossom and wild flowers, even weeds. If you have an exercise bike or step, remember Artemis as you start your workout – she is the lean fleet goddess who can add a spring to your step.

 Remember your ancestors. Sarah Shurety, a friend of mine who is also a very experienced feng shui consultant, says that in the West we do precisely the opposite to the East. While Oriental people venerate their ancestors, we almost entirely forget them. Find photos of your ancestors if you can, as far back as you can. Frame them and display them in your house. You could follow the Chinese custom and set up an altar, with incense and a candle – see the chapters on feng shui for the best spots to place such an altar.

 Read old folk tales and fairy stories and become familiar with the spirits of your culture and land. Better still, sit around the fire and read the stories out loud to your family or a group of friends. Share stories about your supernatural experiences and find out just how common they are. Everyone seems to know someone who’s seen a ghost or ‘felt’ something strange.

 Become sensitive to spots in your house which feel as if they might be home to the spirits. As we’ve seen, the threshold, the hearth, the larder, the bathroom, the cellar and attic are favourite spots. I have a tricky spot on my stairs which I am convinced is the home of a mischievous spirit. I often almost trip on it and keep meaning to find a way to pacify it.

 Dogs were often considered guardian spirits of the threshold. If you can’t have your own living guard-dog you might like to put a pair of guardian stone dogs (or lions or dragons) either side of your front door or in the inner hallway.

 I haven’t talked about more unwelcome visitors. Some people feel their homes contain unpleasant spirits or ghosts which can make a house feel very uncomfortable. I’ll talk more about this in the section on space clearing.