Are We Still Weird?

Hardly a week goes by that Feng Shui doesn’t appear in the news. Sometimes it’s a mere mention of some celebrity incorporating its principles in a remodel or a new house. Sometimes it’s advertised as a selling point for a model home built by some upper-end builder. It might be mentioned in connection to a clinic that used a Feng Shui consultant to help bring about a harmonious environment. For those of us who have been in the Feng Shui world long enough, it’s gratifying to see it go mainstream. Not too many people are raising their eyebrows anymore.

Recently there was an article in our local Minneapolis paper about young Iranians who are expressing an interest in self-help books and motivational speakers. In fact, the book "The Secret" is in its tenth printing in Farsi. There’s a big interest in yoga and meditation and "advertising abounds on the virtues of feng shui and financial management."

You’d think I’d consider this good news. I should be happy that the benefits of wind and water have reached global proportions. No longer does a writer have to explain what Feng Shui is, but instead treats it as a matter of fact, presuming any reader will have enough recognition of the term to know the reference. I can present no argument to the contrary.

The issue for me is that this little snippet occurred in a weekly column called "News of the Weird." This column is typically one of my favorites. I look for it every Thursday to see what weird things people are doing. Most of the time, the stories are truly absurd----a thief who left his phone number behind during a robbery because he lost his glasses, or someone who collects and sorts rubber bands to the extent that he opened a rubber band museum, or the recurrence of the middle name "Wayne" in notorious prisoners. This is mind-boggling date describing the absurdity of people’s behavior or their bizarre situations. Those are the kinds of stories I expect to read about.

I challenge the appropriateness of the article about the Iranians for this column. Is this really weird news? Isn’t it more interesting news? Or uplifting news? Or hopeful news? My husband thinks I’m too sensitive and should just be happy Feng Shui and financial management were mentioned in the same phrase within the same sentence. Perhaps that’s true. But sometimes when many of us are working so hard to get us out of weirdness and into normalcy, even a small mention in the opposite direction ruffles my feathers.

From One Owner to the Next

We love our house. It has been the perfect home for my husband and me and, for a few years, my stepson. We love the size, the location, the garden----well, everything. Okay, we do wish we had a two-car garage sometimes, but other than that it has been the best house for us. There’s one major reason this house is so special.

Many years ago we were lucky enough to have bought our home from a friend. We knew her when she lived in the house, witnessed her change in life-plans, bought her home when we realized we needed a bigger place, and now live here ourselves. In case you’re wondering, this amicable torch-passing is very good Feng Shui. We knew her reasons for leaving, what happened while she lived here, and knew the Feng Shui specifics of the space. Once we became the owners, we could shift the energy that needed to be transformed and keep what we wanted to build on.

It might be helpful for realtors to realize how important this was to us----not only buying from a friend, but also keeping her up-to-date with regard to the changes we made. I realize some previous owners would have a fit if their "perfect" home was altered by the new owners. But not in our case. Our dear friend rejoices in each and every change, no matter how big or small. And we’re always so excited to show her what we’ve done when she comes back to town. It’s as though we want her to approve and bless the changes. After all, she is an integral part of the legacy of our home.

It’s too bad old and new owners couldn’t become friends, help each other through the transitions of moving out and moving in, share the intricacies of the home, relate stories of what took place in the house. Instead the buyers and sellers often don’t even meet for fear some sort of fight will break out. I’m concerned when someone has bought a new/different house but in the process legal problems and animosity arose between the buyer and the seller. This is a predecessor issue which could plague the new owners for years to come.

Perhaps our story is unrealistic in today’s world. For the first few years we owned the house, we all referred to the house as "our" home. We’d tell her about something we’d changed or done, referring to it as "our" home----acknowledging her ownership and keeping her as part of the experience. She’d ask how "our" house was or "our" garden. I loved it. Recently I received an email from her when she referred to the house as a temple that had been handed from one owner to the next. We didn’t create that temple alone, I can assure you. In the work that she did and the infusion of Feng Shui energy she put in the structure, she had as much a part in how this house is functioning today as we do. For this we thank you, dear friend, and "our" temple continues to thank you.

Back to Nature

In teaching and living the principles of Feng Shui, I am acutely aware of how disconnected we’ve become from the influence of nature. My husband and I are city folk and, although we have an ample yard, the shade trees and squirrels derail any efforts to grow our own vegetables. So last year we joined a community supported farm in order to bring some fresh food into our kitchen.
There is an abundance of these farms around here (and I’m sure everywhere) who grow organic, pesticide-free produce. Those of us who have paid into their efforts receive a weekly bag beginning some time in June containing whatever is being harvested. As anyone who has ever taken part in these community farms knows, it’s not unusual to get some mystery things, but our farm sends an accompanying sheet explaining what is all included and some recipes for its use.

What I love the most about this experience is the dirt. These vegetables come with the dirt and mud still caked on them. The eggs may still have some straw stuck to the outside of the shell. It’s almost as though I’ve dug the veggies out myself or gathered the eggs from under the chickens with my own two hands. I realize how important that is to me when I have to buy produce in the store, after the farm has closed up for the year. The potatoes are all washed and neatly stacked; the lettuce is in similar sized bundles, freed of any offending dirt. The eggs are in cartons. There’s something not natural about that.

Of course, we go to the farmers’ markets around our home. For the most part those vendors aren’t afraid to leave the dirt on their vegetables either. But the difference is that the vegetables we get from our farm were harvested with us in mind----not specifically us as in my husband and me, but all of us who support them. Without us, they wouldn’t be boxing up those vegetables that end up in our kitchens.

The other advantage to having this food show up on our doorstep is that it gets us cooking. Not wanting to waste this precious source of ch’i, we cook together, look for other recipes, try different combinations. I like to call this generational Feng Shui—where one intention brings one change, but leads to another one that hadn’t even been considered. Buying organic food to help out the agricultural community and to have good food leads to us to spending more creative and quality time together. That illustrates the true flow of nature.

Time in a Muddle

My computer crashed a couple days ago. This email comes to you through a circuitous route, because, as many of you know, recovering from a disaster like that doesn't occur over night. For all of you who have shared your experiences of computer meltdowns and heard me smugly say something about “you should have backed up your data,” or “you have to use fire walls,” I apologize. We backed up, we had fire walls, the thing still died.

The last few years, I had some sickening awareness that I was getting just too dependent on my computer, but when I suddenly didn't have it at all, I was appalled at my helplessness. I had transferred phone numbers as well as emails to the computer. A fleeting thought of calling someone to discuss a project or an appointment, or even to let them know why I wasn't emailing, was foiled when I realized I had no other record of their existence except what I had recorded on my computer. Yes, we'll eventually retrieve the data, but we're dealing with a weekend here when tech help is somewhat limited.

In an experience like this, there's always a yin and a yang, a counter-balance to some polarizing event. I couldn't imagine what the proverbial silver lining would be other than to put a check on my over-bearing confidence and express some true empathy for those who have gone through the same ordeal. I wasn't expecting the enlightened moment, until I was preparing for a 9:30 meeting the next day. It was 8:30 when I looked at my watch and I was ready to go. How did that happen? Was the clock wrong? Ahhhh—no computer to suck me in---no computer to tie up my precious minutes----no last-minute emails to answer. I had some time on my hands.

Talk about flow. Over the weekend, I've gotten some long overdue ironing done. I cleaned out some file drawers. I picked peonies from our garden and put bouquets all over our house. I played with my cats, much to their initial mistrust and to their eventual delight. I took a nap. I had to admit my computer had taken over my life, depriving me of some very simple pleasantries.

In a day or so I expect I'll be back up and running as normal. From another perspective, I'm grateful I'm only worrying about losing a few pieces of data and not shoveling mud from my living room as many Iowa people have been doing over the weekend. But on the other hand, I learned, despite my mantra of “I wish I had more time,” I do have time. Out of the perceived chaos, the pathway to time became evident. As happens in Feng Shui, sometimes your things or your space will provide you the kick in the pants you need to move forward, or to see the light, or to find the time.

Car Shui

This past week I bought a new car. The car I was currently driving, although I loved it, was going to require some major work----in my opinion, not worth the investment. Finding an appropriate car for me can be an ordeal. I won’t drive just anything, mind you. Most of my friends say something like "It’s just a car" or "What’s the big deal?" Well, not me. My car holds a lot of importance in my world; that has been true even BFS (before Feng Shui)----as far back as I can remember I took great pleasure in driving a spiffy car. My motto is: If I’m not looking good in my car, then something’s wrong. When I get out of my car at the grocery store, or post office, or anywhere, and someone (a stranger preferably) says "nice car," then I’ve got the right automobile for me. We could analyze why that has so much importance to me and what could be lacking in my life to desperately seek that kind of approval from strangers. But we won’t.

The colors of my last car were based on the elements I needed from my Four Pillars analysis (fire and earth, red and tan). I made those colors work beautifully in a sharp red car with a tan convertible top. Too bad its life-span was so short. This time I wanted something different. Having just completed the study of Fashion Feng Shui, I decided to go in that direction. Believe it or not, I had my color swatches with me at the dealership. I matched a car color to my eye color. My husband rolled his eyes when he heard this.

I also name my cars. In the last years because of my endless tenacity in learning Chinese, I’ve given them Chinese names. My red and earth colored car was called hong bao, Chinese for red envelope. By the time I drove my new car home, I had already discovered its name----green jade carpet (luyu ditu). It’s a take-off on a red carpet, get it? —flying to magical places, soaring through space to faraway spots. Part of the reason I picked that is because I know all those words in Chinese—yes, amazingly, I even know the word for carpet.

So "green jade carpet" ("green jade" for short) and I are getting used to each other. It has an intelligence key which is truly more intelligent that I am. It wasn’t until we got it home that we realized it’s the same color as our house! It will take a while for us to figure out the significance behind that. As with any new adjustment on the physical level, new adjustments could come forward on other levels as well. As I change the image of my car, I may be in for some image changes myself.

The Bandwagon is Full

I’m on my high-horse today. Sometimes a small, seemingly inconsequential thing will annoy me to no end. And it’s happening lately. There seems to be a need to grab a popular concept (in this case Feng Shui) and link it to something else, something totally unrelated, or slightly related but not enough to make it valid.

A couple months ago I saw an article about Feng Shui Yoga. I read it with great anticipation that some enlightened connection that hadn’t occurred to me would be brought forth between these two philosophies. I do yoga; I do Feng Shui----it never occurred to me to blend the two. I couldn’t wait to see how this would be done. The author continued to refer to Feng Shui Yoga, continued to build up my expectations about what this might be, but before I knew it, I was at the end of the article. There was never a clear definition of what made it different from regular yoga, or any other kind of yoga for that matter. I was irritated that someone would use the Feng Shui tag to lure readers to their article----the title was effective because I did indeed read the whole thing, but I didn’t like it.

Then a student of mine forwarded a link to a web page for a Feng Shui Beauty package. You could get a Feng Shui haircut, a Feng Shui manicure and pedicure, and a Feng Shui makeup application (all for $205). How the heck does this work? The reader was assured they’d be aligned with the seen and unseen forces of nature if they would come to their salon to experience the art of Feng Shui. Huh?

I was shopping for groceries the other day and bought, out of curiosity, Feng Shui crackers. Maybe they had an Asian flair because there were some flecks of kelp in them, but, gee, does that qualify them to be Feng Shui crackers? What’s next? Feng Shui deodorant? Feng Shui pantyhose? Maybe we wouldn’t feel bad about paying so much for gas if we were using Feng Shui petrol? Where will it end?

Maybe I should change my attitude and look at it another way. Perhaps because Feng Shui is popular, all of these examples are attempts to grab on to some of that popularity. I believe there’s a word for this: entrainment----when one item vibrating in a certain way affects an item positioned next to it causing it to vibrate in the same way. I think there's another word for this: tacky. Well, I’m off to take my Feng Shui car to the Feng Shui mall and look for a pair of white Feng Shui shoes.

San Fran Ch'i

My husband and I just returned from San Francisco where we proudly witnessed the graduation of his son from San Francisco State. We spent a few extra days hanging out with him and letting him play tour guide. He loves the city and was happy to show us his favorite places. I’ve traveled a lot but for some reason was struck by the difference in ch’i between what I’m used to here in Minneapolis and what I experienced in San Francisco.

Perhaps I’m stating the obvious, but for me the energy in San Francisco and that of Minneapolis might be in the category of polar opposites. I think sometimes here in the Midwest we get content, even lethargic. We get into a groove and are often reluctant to shift into something else. We love our routines. There’s no time for routines in California. For one thing, there may be an earthquake at any time that could change everything. So people are on the go, on the move, up and out, on a fast track. Don’t take this as a blast against us Minnesotans, but our lifestyle is, well, slower.

For one thing, people in San Francisco live closer together, and they put up with it. They eat in very small restaurants at crowded tables. We need our space here in Minnesota. Most of the California people I met don’t have cars----come on, we’d never endure the inconvenience of that, let alone the loss of independence. Of course, San Francisco has so much public transit that it’s down-right easy to get around without a car. We rented a car for our recent visit and spent endless amounts of time trying to park the thing----no space, or if there was space, not big enough. I didn’t see one over-weight person in San Francisco, I’m sure it’s because they have to walk to the transit station, or the bus stop. I did see one very obese woman in Chinatown, but the camera around her neck was evidence that she was a tourist.

In my opinion, the ch’i in San Francisco is nearly electric. It’s exciting, progressive, on-the-edge (probably because that next earthquake could be the big one). It left me breathless at times, even exhilarated. I’d love to live there. I think I could do very well there. The truth is I’d love to live there if I was younger. I’d love living there more if I was assured of a decent income. Oh yes, it was good to come home and slow down a bit. I was happy to get in my car again and get somewhere on my own time table. Nevertheless, a part of me is still in San Francisco, thinking about what it would be like to be part of that energy. I hear a song coming on......