When I first moved into my house (where I currently reside), I was very much comforted to be living there. It was a warm refuge, compared to the previous home, and it had good energy to it. The house wasn’t in the best shape, and it certainly wasn’t ideal in its layout (basement bedrooms), but it seemed light.
Now, there were a few things I did to ensure the house was beneficial, and the first, as crazy as it sounds, was remove all the closet doors. I did this because lots of paranormal activity had been reported in this house, and all of them involved the closet doors opening. I figured I would just make life easier for myself and the entity (nothing would be more creepy than a metal door screeching open in the middle of the night) by just removing the doors. Now, the only thing that swings open is the metal laundry door, and I just keep it open. Second, I was sure to smudge and salt the area. And third, I welcomed myself to the house and kind of explained how honoured I was to be living there. I like to think of these actions as being my acts of kindness to the house.
When my ex and I moved up here, he bought everything with him. I actually mean everything – ranging from grade seven clothes to old furniture to pots and pans to books, and so the list goes. While we were together, I worked hard on trying to have him get rid of things, but to no avail. He was simply unable to let things go. For me, I wanted a more simple life, and didn’t see the point in accumulating things. Clutter leads to bad energy.
Long story short, when we broke up, he was out of the country, and couldn’t enter Canada. I was faced with the task of looking after his things, which I absolutely dreaded. Boxes upon boxes, when all I wanted to do was move on with my life. I agreed to do it, but I was unhappy. And he wasn’t certain when he’d be able to get it (it would have easily filled a moving truck), so I was stuck in limbo.
I went to Ontario that summer, which I’ve already blogged about, as an escape from what was happening. The two weeks there were psychically intense, to say the least.
When I returned, my house was infested with small reddish brown bugs. They were in the carpets, on the drapes, in our bed, on the dishes, in the drains, and it was quite disgusting. Strangely, though, none of my neighbours (I live in a fourplex) had this problem; despite it looking like these bugs were coming in from under the walls. I was disgusted and depressed.
I asked the locals what these bugs were, and no one knew what they were. I ventured that they were cockroaches. They could have been beetles. Nothing seemed to kill them.
I told the ex that I would be moving homes again, and was told by my employer that this was the solution to my problems. Since I was moving, I didn’t think I should have to look after his things anymore, and I wasn’t going to. After some angry exchanges, international movers from the ex came to pick up his things. They took an entire truckload of stuff, and I was left with barely anything except the couches, some books, two lamps, and the bugs.
Strangely enough, after the movers got his things, the bugs died off en masse. They weren’t a problem beyond two or three days after the movers left, and I haven’t seen them since. I had lots of bodies to clean up, but not as many as I honestly would have expected given the state of the house.
I think the bugs were the house’s way of getting me to move on with my life. And, despite it being gross, I think the house was looking out for me. I didn’t end up moving (ironically, it didn’t work out with my employer, and so I remained – even though such move had been a catalyst for the movers). The bugs forced me to let go.
In late November, I was feeling overwhelmed with work (common phenomenon with teachers), and lacking personal time. I wrote down intentions for a better life, and said that I needed to spend more time away from the Internet. I wanted to concentrate on my writing, and just not wasting my time. I also did affirmations on this, amongst other things.
The next day, I awoke, and went to check my e-mail. The internet was broken.
I called my provider, and they were unable to find out what was wrong. My neighbour’s internet was fine, and so was my modem. It was a mystery.
It took three weeks to fix the internet, and in those three weeks, I spent a lot of time relaxing and doing what I wanted to do. Talk about a gift.
So what I’ve learned with this house is that it does take care of me; however, its gifts are sometimes given in strange ways. I have to be careful with what I want it to manifest, and I also have to trust in its light.
And a beautiful evening to you!