Stagnation

A toppling pile of books, a collection of half-full liquor bottles, somehow still alive plants in sunny windows, disheveled throw pillows, a desk cluttered with mail, and a box of supplements. All signs of a place souls gather. Not a city, or a town, where hundreds and hundreds of souls reside, but lower, smaller, more intimate, the place called home. A place for two and, by God’s grace, a few more.

Homes should be orderly. We make our homes intentionally. Homes should be clean. We are the front line of healthcare, us homemakers. Homes should be warm. We are a large source of that warmth — our attitudes, choices, and actions. I can’t give you a black and white list of what brings warmth because warmth means different things to different people, and there are a myriad of ways to bring about the magic of warmth, most of which is being warm yourself.

But, not to get too mystical, not to get too weird, lol, brace yourselves, especially you dear women who are far more practical and have less imagination, it’s important to see and “feel”, to sense, if your home is stagnant.

Have you ever come home and just known, been fully aware of the fact without any physical evidence, that the house is empty? You just know there isn’t a soul present beyond yours. There is something, something there when souls are around. There is an unseen light and warmth when people are in a building.

As HearthKeepers, it’s important to be aware of places in our homes that have stagnated. A room can be a comfortable 70 degrees but if there has been no airflow for hours, it’s stuffy. I’d rather be freezing than stuffy. Stuffy, stifling rooms make me nauseous and light-headed.

Side Note: Looking at you, library. Why is there no airflow?

Sometimes we have places in our homes that are closed off, or not often used and they get weird. The back bathroom never used, basements, strange sheds, closets, the backs of pantries, guest rooms. All these places seem to become just a bit off when they’re not visited or utilized.

For 9 years our guest room was that way. The Room of Requirement. Every few years I would tackle it, trying to regain some control over the uncountable projects filling it up, and always closing the door so I could ignore the mess. The room needed so much TLC. In 2020, my husband pushed to finally clean it out and invest in making it a true guest room, no longer the Room of Requirement.

It took me about seven or eight months to fully establish it as a guest room. One of my goals was to make sure it was a room I liked, not a room I avoided. I wanted to use some art that didn’t have a home anywhere else, and I desperately wanted my WW2 painting from my Aunt Debbie to have a place of honor. One thing blossomed into another and my guest room is now my WW2-Whimsy room. It is very me and I love it. 90% of my books and journals are in that room so I’m in it every day. The next thing I knew, the door is always open and both of us spend time in there because it’s a comfortable place.

The room feels warm because it’s no longer closed off, or storage, or only visited in a few hours of panic before a guest arrives. It’s a living, breathing part of my home that is enjoyed by us both. The room is clean and ready because we don’t ‘live’ in it, we don’t sleep in it, but with the books, it’s part of the daily flow of life. That keeps the room both ready at the drop of a hat and warm because it’s used.

I, the homemaker, am thrilled. Not all my decisions were made on purpose, but the instinct was right, and the outcome was better than I could have planned.

Without souls, homes are just buildings, and rooms are just storage or weird places. It is the human souls (augmented by pets) that make places warm and welcoming.

If this is true for the odds and ends of buildings, then it is also true for the building as a whole. Introvert or extravert, have you ever noticed the energy in your home after you’ve had guests over? It’s like opening the windows after a long hot summer. A freshness moves through the space kicking up long-stagnant air. The same thing happens when we have people over. The souls get all stirred up, freshened by the talking, laughter, and energy of all the interacting souls.

Now it’s important to strike a balance here. You can get addicted to this energy level and the next thing you know, your home is never calm. It’s in a constant state of soul-excitement. Your home is never settled. You are incapable of being still and quiet. You hardly know your family. You just flit from party night to party night. What was good is now bad, like too much sugar or too many cocktails. You’ve taken a gift and turned it into a pitfall.

The other danger is becoming numb to the stagnation. You’re completely oblivious to the hollow, stifling feeling in your home. You are used to it not having its energy freshened. So used to it, so comfortable with it, that you don’t even notice the dusty, dull emptiness. You’ve taken a gift for granted and left it in a back closet.

How often should you refresh the energy in your home by having guests?

There is no right or wrong answer here. Some of us have boundless energy and are social extraverts. Some of us are very limited and are social introverts. You and yours will have to experiment to find out what you need and what you can manage. It’s easy to use hosting as an excuse to avoid responsibilities or abuse it and never rest. It is easy to pass on hosting out of a sense of convenience, pride, reverse pride, or not understanding different types of rest.

This is like how wonderful it feels to have something new. A new top, new shoes, new jewelry. It’s lovely to get new art, new throw pillows, change up a room, get new dishes. All these things are good and good gifts, but we must not become so addicted to the thrill of something new that we run our families into financial ruin or lose anything traditional and nostalgic. What that means for you and what that means for me will be different.

There are no hard and fast rules. You’ll have to fail a few times to find out what your home needs. Don’t nag your husbands. Think, pray, and notice the energy in your home.

Smells are an important part of avoiding stagnation. Just like opening windows. New Age mysticism and many pagans use smudging to remove negative spirits haunting a home or negative energy. I don’t believe in that, but I do think we are spiritual and emotional creatures. Burning herbs can clear our heads and freshen a room, just like plants and beautiful art. I may not believe my house is haunted by negative forces, but I do think as a being with a soul, I can start to feel dull and cobwebbed. Smudging eases that and so does baking cookies.

Good gifts to be used in faith and thankfulness.

When you start to dig deeper than simply cooking, cleaning, and laundry, homemaking has some beautiful, wonderful, intangible elements that we need to observe, harness, and tend. This is part of being a good homemaker. This is part of leveling up. Don’t tackle your whole house at once. Don’t just throw out everything because you have new things to learn. Start by observing. Start by training yourself to notice when windows need to be thrown open, cookies need to be baked, herbs or candles burned. Train yourself to notice not just if your husband's shirt is clean, but if he’s happy and calm. Take responsibility for the spirit of your home. Take responsibility for yourself. Are you calm, happy, ready and willing to work? Or are you bitter, nagging, constantly hounding, belittling? The soul of a home is what makes it more than just brick and stone. The way you tend makes your house a home. There are very practical, tangible ways you bring this about and there are very spiritual and intangible ways you tend. Make sure, as a homemaker, you’re learning to use and grow both sides.