Hestia, the Greek goddess of the hearth and temple (and one of the crone archetypes of wisdom), can be the dominant archetype in an introverted child and younger woman who, in former times, might have become the self-effacing spinster in a large family. Hestia was the least known of the original twelve great Olympians, the firstborn and eldest child of Rhea and Cronus, the parents of Zeus, Demeter, Hera, Poseidon, and Hades. She is hardly mentioned in myths, because she, alone of all of the original Olympians, never took part in their disputes or wars, nor in their sexual or romantic affairs. Apollo and Poseidon could have been rival suitors, but she swore eternal virginity, preserved peace among the Olympians, and was granted her wish by Zeus. Hestia was not represented in human form by painters or sculptors—she was the goddess without a persona. Instead, she was present in the sacred fire in the center of a round hearth that was the spiritual center of home, temple, and city.
Neither home nor temple were sanctified until Hestia entered, and she was greatly honored to receive the best offerings made by mortals to the gods. She was a spiritual presence and the sacred fire. Her fire provided illumination and warmth in the temples of all of the divinities, as well as in the home. Sacred hospitality, temple sanctuary, and the inviolateness of Hestia are archetypally related and part of our social and religious heritage. The safety of guests and the sanctuary of the temple (later the church), are deeply-held conventions—to do other than be hospitable desecrated sacred ground that Hestia had made holy. The center of Greek life was the domestic hearth, and Hestia as its goddess represented personal security, happiness, and the sacred duty of hospitality.
In Rome, Hestia was worshiped as the goddess Vesta. There, her sacred fire was the center that united the Romans into one people. In her round temple, the Vestal Virgins were the hearthkeepers who tended her sacred fire. They embodied the virginity and anonymity of Hestia; living images that were symbolic representations of the goddess. The girls were taken into the temple when they were quite young, usually not yet six years old. Dressed alike, their hair shorn as new initiates, there was to be nothing distinct and individual about them. They were set apart from other people, honored, and expected to live like Hestia, as anonymous, chaste, holy women, with dire consequences if they did not remain virginal.
As one of the three virgin goddesses, anonymous Hestia seems to have little in common with Artemis or Athena. Yet the three shared essential intangible qualities, however different their spheres of interest or modes of action. Each had the one-in-herself quality that characterizes the virgin goddess archetype. Each was able to focus on what mattered to her and concentrate on that (in Latin, the word for “hearth” is focus). Artemis and Athena were externally oriented, while Hestia’s is an inwardly-focused consciousness needed for meditation, contemplation, and prayer. The Hestia archetype is introverted. She looks inward to intuitively sense the essence of a situation or the character of a person. She has a natural detachment and seeks tranquility, which is most easily found in solitude.
These Hestia qualities are those of a wisewoman, and this archetype often develops as a woman becomes older and wiser. However, it can be the dominant archetype in an introverted child who has an “old soul” quality about her, which is not noticed by most people. She is likely to have been a pleasant, easy child, who was able to entertain herself and keep her room neat. A typical American family calls her shy and prods her to go out and play with others. Later, she may be urged to be more competitive, to stand up for herself, and do well in school; or the expectation placed on her may be to do better socially, to fit in with her peers, have a boyfriend, and pay attention to the impression she makes. A Hestia woman, especially in the first half of her life, has a hard time living in extroverted, postfeminist America. Depending upon how successfully she adapts, her self-esteem can suffer. The discrepancy between who she is inside and outer expectations can be very great. Hestia the archetype does not have a shadow, but the woman in whom Hestia is the dominant archetype can develop feelings of inadequacy or see herself as a misfit.
Marriage used to be a haven for most Hestias who, in the traditional role of housewife, could thrive and create a warm and inviting home. This is still the role that provides a place for many Hestia women. Her internal harmony is reflected in the harmony that she creates in the home. There is a beauty and order that does not call attention to itself but is felt.
In the past, a Hestia woman could also find her place in the anonymity of a religious order, especially a cloistered one, or she may have been valued in an extended family household as a maiden aunt. Living alone was formerly not an option for an unmarried woman. Now an introverted contemporary Hestia can have a place of her own. Depending upon her circumstances and the development of other aspects of herself, however, many Hestias appear to others as “centered” rather than introverted. Managing her own life, working, having a circle of friends, and marriage—the usual expectations of an adult—are compatible with being a Hestia in a world that supports women to become whole people.
CRONE-AGED HESTIA
A crone-aged Hestia in good health and with adequate resources to keep her comfortably settled quietly comes into her own in the third phase of her life. With an archetypal talent to be inwardly centered without lessons in how to meditate, and minus the obsessive potential of other archetypes, she doesn’t suffer the angst of not having a man in her life—if such is the case—or of not having children. Never persona-driven, she doesn’t look into a mirror and note every new wrinkle, and besides, her face probably lacks worry lines. She may retain the same basic and ageless look long into her crone years. Earlier parental and social pressures to conform to expectations are gone. As an older woman in a patriarchy, she is supposed to become invisible—and this suits her just fine.
LATE-BLOOMING HESTIA
Hestia is a crone-age archetype that becomes more important and likely to develop as we grow older and wiser. It is naturally late blooming. Unless Hestia is a dominant archetype—and too often even if it is—there is little time for Hestia until age and circumstance finally provide the opportunity for a woman to be with herself. Everyday life is a juggling act for most women in the first two stages of their lives. Solitude is hard to come by, especially if there are children. Sometimes, the only time a woman has for her own thoughts is when she commutes, and even then she may be focusing on a list of to-dos. Cell phones have turned this island of “alone time” into an extension of work or a time to return personal calls. When this is what life-as-usual is like, Hestia can hardly be present.
However, when life takes an unexpected turn, and you are alone with your thoughts and prayers, finding Hestia will be a comfort. Or, when perimenopausal symptoms keep you from sleep and you are awake in the middle of the night, you may keep company with Hestia. Or, if you separate or divorce, and the children spend time with their father, and for the first time ever you live by yourself, it may also be a first time for you to be with Hestia. Or, it may be the empty nest or widowhood that creates an empty space for Hestia to enter. These are circumstances that may lead us to find the still point inside ourselves, which is Hestia.
Hestia is also developed through taking time out of busy schedules for yoga classes and meditation, for retreats or women’s circles that provide a time to “center” and enter a ritual Hestia space. It’s my impression that the transition years from the mid-forties to mid-fifties are when the urge for inner focus is taken seriously, and commitments are made to these ways of making time for Hestia and, in turn, lead to a desire for more quality inner time.
When Hestia becomes the major archetype in the third phase of life, it is a significant archetypal shift that is little noticed by others. Only once can I recall that such an event made the newspapers; this was when a very socially prominent woman in San Francisco entered a cloistered order. Hestia remains anonymous unless her presence brings about a noticeable change in outer life. However, once Hestia is the center of a woman’s life, she acquires a one-in-herself sense of wholeness that can have consequences for others and can result in major changes in her life. Solitude, meditation, an inner life, a spiritual practice, are too often not compatible with others who want her company.
When Hestia becomes the important archetype in a formerly outer-directed woman, there will be problems between the expectations of others and her own inclinations. She wants to go on a retreat alone. He wants her to keep him company. He wants them to socialize with people that she no longer wants to spend time with. He looks forward to his retirement, and she dreads losing the time alone that she has gotten used to having. Similar issues arise with relatives, friends, and acquaintances who expected her to be available for them. At work, she may turn down a promotion or not take any new clients. Others cannot see the hearth that now warms and illuminates her inner world, or understand that she might prefer to spend time with Hestia instead of with them. Late-blooming Hestias treasure this newfound sanctuary and work toward achieving a balance between their new inner life and the people who are important to them.