We’ve been in this little house for almost 2 years. Sold our farm in WV and moved here. I loved the farm. Loved my garden and our goats. Loved milking and tending the herd. The beauty of the place was unsurpassed. Our home was built from trees harvested on the land–storm damaged poplars that were down and needed repurposing. It was lovely. I never thought we’d leave. But in my experience matters of the heart often fly in the face of logic. More powerful than any THING ever could be. And when the something ELSE called, we listened. With attention. And discovered again how Attention to specifics–in conjunction with INTENTion–can bring about amazing transformation.
On Tuesdays I hang out at my sister’s. She’s a weaver. Another friend who makes medicine bags comes by and the three of us work on our projects and from time to time have very engaging conversations. A few weeks ago I heard myself voicing concern that some THING was wrong with this little house we moved into. And what ever it was, it needed to be addressed. My sense of equilibrium/ease–the need for– was flashing on high alert. And so my medicine bag friend sent me home with instructions to put small muslin bags of salt in the corners of the rooms.
She also advised smudging–which I do regularly–and specific visualizations. Intention. Attention directed inward?
What I had not anticipated was the momentum that would gather in the face of such seemingly benign acts. Salt? Who would have guessed?
This is what happened: my studio/work space received a total overhaul. Now it WORKS for–rather than against–me. But the kitchen? Major problem. Like this: when the stove door was open, it touched the sink cabinet. It blocked the little 3 foot wide “walking through” space. Anyone on the other side would be blocked in until the door closed. Same with the refrigerator door. Constant traffic jams. Constant. And the kitchen was so small that I couldn’t have communion with others while meal prep was happening. With more than one person, it felt like we were stuffed in a phone booth.
The problem: some time in the past the house had been retro-fitted with basement stairs that were put in the kitchen. Taking up a LOT of space. The stairs had to go. Unfortunate because I was constantly running to the basement for one thing or another–usually related to dyeing fabric or some other cloth related project. But I can simply go outside, down some steps, and enter the basement that way. Anyway, a contractor appeared as if by magic:
a much-needed heat register was uncovered from the previously ill-thought-out stairs addition:
and in a week or so we should have a user-friendly kitchen. In the meanwhile, breakfast happens and heart space continues to fill.
And to think, all of this–from the BIG move to this little project–evolved from simply voicing an idea–a need–a dream. An intention.
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