April 14th, 2007

I moved. Well, an ox named Brett moved me, to be precise. Thank God for bloody beef and the people who eat it; Brett is the strongest person I have ever met and his ability to swing boxes and haul armchairs literally amazes me. I watch like an anemic fifth-grader as he transports my… life. When we go out for dinner, after a long day of shifting gross matter, Brett digs into a rack of ribs with gusto. Yin and yang, baby.

So I’m living in the town where I grew up–well, city actually. Megacity, if I’m honest. I moved from Portland, Maine, population 65,000, to Toronto, population four and half million. And that requires an expansion of spirit, on my part.

The first few days were heady with domestic chores. Getting the cable hooked up. Unloading the kitchen (I am happy and fortunate to report that the kitchen of my rented apartment has, at this writing, more cupboard space than I know what to do with–the ultimate luxury), buying sheets. And of course, what’s really happening is that I am marking my territory–just like my cats are–sending my unique vibes out into the environment. Staking my claim. Setting the tone. Living space is very important to me–I think it’s a reflection of the psyche. That last sentence might make you belive that I am a neat freak, which I am most definitely NOT. But I do believe that a living space must be comfortable, energetically warm and loving–a “soft place to land” as my favorite balding, multimillionaire TV psychotherapist would say. I want a home that, when I am exhausted on the subway, I think of it and I feel better. I want a home that exists at the end of every adventure as a peaceful refuge. I want a home that’s filled with love.

Excuse me? Did I just write that Hallmark sentence? What exactly do I mean be “love”? In very practical terms, I mean the following: I need to cook good quality food in a home before it’s a home. And I need to meditate there a few times. You see, the food raises the vibration–literally. It clarifies and organizes a confused space. The natural lifeforce of whole foods bash on into the kitchen and begin to run the joint. Likewise, when I meditate, letting go of the neurotic, dualistic chatter of my mind (or at least getting above it) I begin to send out a unified signal, a strong pulse. That’s when the Self moves in, and that’s when it’s home.

Please remind me to re-read the above paragraph every day!!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007 at 11:47 am and is filed under My Life, Spiritual Stuff. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.