A bit of Feng Shui happened around our house this past week. It all started a month or so ago when my husband expressed a desire to get a plasma TV. I know that left to my own devices I’d be watching a TV with rabbit ears—I’m just not that interested in what it offers. Yeah, I’ve gotten into "Brothers and Sisters" and "Numbers" but, actually, if I’m not around to watch it, I don’t really care that much. However, my ex-athlete husband loves to keep up with sports so hence his request for an improved way to do just that.
The television arrives but, of course, doesn’t fit in the cabinet in which our current one is nicely placed. We decided to move the old television and cabinet into the lower level for those moments when I can no longer tolerate the roar of stadium crowds or the squeak of tennis shoes on gymnasium floors. Then we moved an Asian-looking chest from near our front door and put it in the corner to hold the new television.
In order to integrate the old TV and its cabinet into the lower level family room, we had to move out a Chinese rice chest, so we brought it up to our second floor. We have a sitting room off the master bedroom that has never been able to define itself. It has been through at least three or four transformations without any success. But as soon as we got that chest in the room, a major shift happened and everything else seemed to fall into place. It’s the first time the room actually "worked." In order to incorporate the rice chest we had to move a side table that was originally made by my grandfather. We brought it downstairs to replace the Asian-looking chest that was originally by the front door.
It was kind of a domino dance and one which we never would have predicted the day the new TV arrived. Each piece of furniture led us to the next one as they traded real estate around the house. The furniture has taken on renewed life in their different positions; it’s as though we bought all new stuff. And we solved the issue of a long-standing problematic sitting room. The plasma television is pretty nice, too.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Fur Shui: Time Fur Everything
It seems these days we are all struggling with lack of time. Too much to do and too few hours in the day and days in the week. Even my cats remind me of this time issue. Hardly a day goes by when one of them doesn’t follow me around pathetically meowing, complaining that I take too much time doing stuff that doesn’t involve them. I’m hanging up clothes, fixing my hair, putting on make-up, going out to buy more clothes, putting on lotion, doing my nails, doing laundry. Of course, their motivation to get me to quit all this is because they either want something to eat, want to go out, want some attention, want, want, want. And here I am occupied with my own selfish activities. One day when I was looking at them it occurred to me that if we all still had fur how easy life would be.
Just taking clothes out of the equation of life would be a huge step forward in having time and energy. No shopping required, very little laundry, no ironing or dry cleaning. Nothing would need to be altered as my fur would fit my body. Anyway, a few pounds here or there----the fur would cover it.
The morning bathroom ritual would get incredibly simple. I could let go of having bad hair days because fur seems to fall into place no matter what. No more expensive hair cuts or foil jobs. I wouldn’t have to worry about sagging facial muscles as no one would notice under all the fur. All the creams, anti-wrinkle gels, make-up....no need for any of it.
Just the money saved would be reason enough to take the evolutionary step backward. Instead of clothes, we could buy more expensive food and luxurious beds to sleep in. We wouldn’t need coats anymore as our fur would keep us warm. I don’t see why we couldn’t still use the computer or use the phone even though our fingers were covered in fur. With all our extra money, we’d probably buy more expensive houses and fancier cars, take more trips, maybe work less hours.
I presume those of us who are Feng Shui consultants would find a brisk business if everyone was covered in fur. Without all the distractions of clothes, make-up, and hair, people would be more intent on having a beautiful home. They’d want their space set up in perfect order because it would be the only way to express their individuality. Having fur doesn’t allow much personal expression----maybe a snazzy collar or two but that would be about it.
Of course, if you think about it, someone would figure out how to dye patterns in your fur, how to sculpt designs into it which you’d have to keep up with regular visits to the fur salon. Collars would get more and more elaborate, more and more expensive, hand-made by other fur people, requiring mending, laundering, dry cleaning. Somehow we’d find ourselves back to where we are now: incorporating incessant and labor-intensive self-care into our lives. Then, we’d have to hire a Feng Shui professional to help with fur control.
Just taking clothes out of the equation of life would be a huge step forward in having time and energy. No shopping required, very little laundry, no ironing or dry cleaning. Nothing would need to be altered as my fur would fit my body. Anyway, a few pounds here or there----the fur would cover it.
The morning bathroom ritual would get incredibly simple. I could let go of having bad hair days because fur seems to fall into place no matter what. No more expensive hair cuts or foil jobs. I wouldn’t have to worry about sagging facial muscles as no one would notice under all the fur. All the creams, anti-wrinkle gels, make-up....no need for any of it.
Just the money saved would be reason enough to take the evolutionary step backward. Instead of clothes, we could buy more expensive food and luxurious beds to sleep in. We wouldn’t need coats anymore as our fur would keep us warm. I don’t see why we couldn’t still use the computer or use the phone even though our fingers were covered in fur. With all our extra money, we’d probably buy more expensive houses and fancier cars, take more trips, maybe work less hours.
I presume those of us who are Feng Shui consultants would find a brisk business if everyone was covered in fur. Without all the distractions of clothes, make-up, and hair, people would be more intent on having a beautiful home. They’d want their space set up in perfect order because it would be the only way to express their individuality. Having fur doesn’t allow much personal expression----maybe a snazzy collar or two but that would be about it.
Of course, if you think about it, someone would figure out how to dye patterns in your fur, how to sculpt designs into it which you’d have to keep up with regular visits to the fur salon. Collars would get more and more elaborate, more and more expensive, hand-made by other fur people, requiring mending, laundering, dry cleaning. Somehow we’d find ourselves back to where we are now: incorporating incessant and labor-intensive self-care into our lives. Then, we’d have to hire a Feng Shui professional to help with fur control.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Disconnect Between Store and Home
Despite being a Feng Shui consultant for all these years and despite claiming to know my space intimately, I apparently know nothing when I get in a store. Once again this week I was reminded of the emotional power of consumerism. I bought something for my house that I thought would be great, got it home, and now don’t like it at all. It isn’t a simple matter of taking it back because this particular item we bought it in China.
I’ve had this experience when buying clothes. I first encountered this disconnect during one of our first trips to Mexico. I bought a dress while we were there. It was adorable. I wore it almost every evening when we went out to eat; it was sassy and flirty and I felt great in it. I got it home and never wore it again. It wasn’t that I didn’t think about wearing it, but whenever I took it out of the closet, it just didn’t fit the occasion. I’d put it on in an attempt to re-create the feeling I had wearing it in Mexico, but it never worked. Rather than sassy, I looked ridiculous.
While in China recently we bought a piece of art at one of the gardens in Suzhou. We had just experienced a delightful evening tour of the garden, found ourselves in their gift shop and bought a painting. The colors were soft and muted; I was sure it would always remind us of a very enjoyable time. I have now brought it home and realize it simply doesn’t fit. I’ve walked around the house holding it up in the hopes it might land somewhere. The colors, although nice on their own, aren’t really even close to what blends here in our home. The size is awkward. I’m not remembering the great time we had in that garden but instead am a bit annoyed that we’ve got this expensive piece with nowhere to hang it.
As I see it now, we removed ourselves from our environment and got swept up in the setting, the store, the feelings, forgetting whether the item we’re purchasing is appropriate in our lives. Of course, there have been some times when I’ve bought something that far surpassed my expectations. But that’s a different side of the same coin. I’m still buying something I like in that moment without considering the context in which it will have to fit when I get home. I may get lucky or I may not. In terms of clothes, perhaps it’s a way for us to be someone else for a while, or do something we wouldn’t ordinarily do in our normal life. In terms of buying things for the home, regardless of all my Feng Shui training, I let go of the connection to my home, forgetting what will work and what won’t.
I’ve had this experience when buying clothes. I first encountered this disconnect during one of our first trips to Mexico. I bought a dress while we were there. It was adorable. I wore it almost every evening when we went out to eat; it was sassy and flirty and I felt great in it. I got it home and never wore it again. It wasn’t that I didn’t think about wearing it, but whenever I took it out of the closet, it just didn’t fit the occasion. I’d put it on in an attempt to re-create the feeling I had wearing it in Mexico, but it never worked. Rather than sassy, I looked ridiculous.
While in China recently we bought a piece of art at one of the gardens in Suzhou. We had just experienced a delightful evening tour of the garden, found ourselves in their gift shop and bought a painting. The colors were soft and muted; I was sure it would always remind us of a very enjoyable time. I have now brought it home and realize it simply doesn’t fit. I’ve walked around the house holding it up in the hopes it might land somewhere. The colors, although nice on their own, aren’t really even close to what blends here in our home. The size is awkward. I’m not remembering the great time we had in that garden but instead am a bit annoyed that we’ve got this expensive piece with nowhere to hang it.
As I see it now, we removed ourselves from our environment and got swept up in the setting, the store, the feelings, forgetting whether the item we’re purchasing is appropriate in our lives. Of course, there have been some times when I’ve bought something that far surpassed my expectations. But that’s a different side of the same coin. I’m still buying something I like in that moment without considering the context in which it will have to fit when I get home. I may get lucky or I may not. In terms of clothes, perhaps it’s a way for us to be someone else for a while, or do something we wouldn’t ordinarily do in our normal life. In terms of buying things for the home, regardless of all my Feng Shui training, I let go of the connection to my home, forgetting what will work and what won’t.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Dear House Letter
Each year my husband and I have end-of-year rituals, one of which entails writing to our house. As a Feng Shui consultant, I experience the energy of space, as do many people. A home takes on the energy from the predecessors, from the builders, from the neighbors, and from those who currently live there. Our responsibility as sentient beings is to recognize and acknowledge this energy. So my husband and I write individual letters to our home.
This past year we spent some quiet moments together painting the upstairs hall. I love this soft earth color and trust you’re finding it as soothing and delicious as we do. We continued to clear out the storage areas in the basement—as you know it becomes an inviting spot in which to dump the questionable items. This does not go unnoticed by me so do not fear
that things will get out of control. Some new furniture arrived here and there during this past year replacing old pieces that had "expired," or, in the case of our bedroom furniture, finding another home in which to thrive. The addition of our pendant lights in the kitchen has added nothing but sparkle to the area; I find comfort in their golden glow. And, finally, we sealed the garage floor with an interesting textured finish to seal the crumbling cement. It has provided us the added benefit of preventing moisture from going under the driveway which caused it to buckle in past years. The front and back gardens changed in small ways, enhancing our surroundings and embellishing the innate strength that lives within and without your walls.
In the upcoming year our plans are to paint the upstairs bathroom—I get the feeling you love the chosen color, again an earth tone. You seem to be nudging us in this direction, bringing in a more grounded spirit. We plan to make some changes to the lower level living room. As you know this area is being used less and less so we have some ideas to correct that. We continue to search for the "perfect" light fixture for the powder room. I know you don’t want us to settle for anything less. We have some modest garden plans, one of which is a new hammock for the back deck, that will enable us to enjoy your beauty and inspire our souls.
Thank you for your warmth, your shelter, your quiet presence. At certain moments I hear your breath. You have been an inspiration to us and I hope we have been to you. Thank you for opening your arms to our life, our cats, our chaos at times. I am never lonely nor frightened here—I hope the same is true for you. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you.
With love,
Carole
I have included the letter I wrote to "901" this year for you to read. You will see that I review what we’ve done in the home in terms of repairs, remodels, upgrades. And I outline what we’re planning to do in the next year (this is part of another ritual we do together on New Years—plan out house projects). This letter also gives me an opportunity to express gratitude for all that the house has done for us. You will also notice that the house has a name, an exercise I highly recommend. If reading this letter is helpful to you, I encourage you to sit down before February 4th (the Chinese New Year) and express your thoughts and ideas and grateful heart to the house in which you live. It's a simple and fun way to connect.
May this Year of the Ox bring you all that your heart desires.
Dear Jiu Ling Yi (Chinese for 901)
This past year marked our 14th anniversary together. I remain grateful for the safety and security you provide us, for the sense of "place" you exude, for the beauty you reflect our way. In all ways you have become home to us.
This past year marked our 14th anniversary together. I remain grateful for the safety and security you provide us, for the sense of "place" you exude, for the beauty you reflect our way. In all ways you have become home to us.
This past year we spent some quiet moments together painting the upstairs hall. I love this soft earth color and trust you’re finding it as soothing and delicious as we do. We continued to clear out the storage areas in the basement—as you know it becomes an inviting spot in which to dump the questionable items. This does not go unnoticed by me so do not fear
that things will get out of control. Some new furniture arrived here and there during this past year replacing old pieces that had "expired," or, in the case of our bedroom furniture, finding another home in which to thrive. The addition of our pendant lights in the kitchen has added nothing but sparkle to the area; I find comfort in their golden glow. And, finally, we sealed the garage floor with an interesting textured finish to seal the crumbling cement. It has provided us the added benefit of preventing moisture from going under the driveway which caused it to buckle in past years. The front and back gardens changed in small ways, enhancing our surroundings and embellishing the innate strength that lives within and without your walls. In the upcoming year our plans are to paint the upstairs bathroom—I get the feeling you love the chosen color, again an earth tone. You seem to be nudging us in this direction, bringing in a more grounded spirit. We plan to make some changes to the lower level living room. As you know this area is being used less and less so we have some ideas to correct that. We continue to search for the "perfect" light fixture for the powder room. I know you don’t want us to settle for anything less. We have some modest garden plans, one of which is a new hammock for the back deck, that will enable us to enjoy your beauty and inspire our souls.
Thank you for your warmth, your shelter, your quiet presence. At certain moments I hear your breath. You have been an inspiration to us and I hope we have been to you. Thank you for opening your arms to our life, our cats, our chaos at times. I am never lonely nor frightened here—I hope the same is true for you. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you.
With love,
Carole
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