I have an affinity for skeptics, or they for me. Odd, because while I’ve never been religious, I’m no atheist. To the consternation of many thinking people who otherwise dig my shit, I believe firmly in many things for which there is no scientific basis, like reincarnation, ESP and all that crap they talked about in the What the Bleep? movie.
What always baffled me was the vehement opposition to anything that had even the faintest whiff of woo-woo. Me? Whatever works. As my former shrink-slash-astrologer used to say, “listen to it all, keep what resonates, discard the rest.” Also, The Real Deal should be accessible for nothing or next to it; beware of elaborate systems that require gear, excessive literature not available at the public library or an expensive guru to navigate.
Take, for example, feng shui. There is much opportunistic hooey and hoopla surrounding it, but the fundamental principles behind feng shui are pretty sound and absolutely free: place your furniture to facilate ease and comfort. Don’t buy a lot of crap you don’t need. Take care of your things. Keep the place clean.
And mostly, pay attention!
Like most good-guy practices, feng shui works (I think) because it helps you to focus your attention. When I was sad and blue after my last big break up four years ago, I stumbled upon this great book about feng shui and used the system it laid out in its pages to systematically de-clutter and clean my apartment. (And no, I didn’t buy the book at first; I checked it out from the library. Then I bought a used copy on half.com.)
It didn’t cure my pain, that took time. It didn’t give me any voodoo to get him back (thank GOD). What it did was, in a time when I was focused on my loss and my pain and how little I had, practicing feng shui helped me to turn my attention to the abundance of riches I already possessed: an apartment filled with light that cheered me every morning. An almost embarrassing wealth of ‘stuff’, much of which I ended up passing along to others. A mother lode of friends and loved ones (a few of the baguas focus on this in different ways).
Oh, and when I scoured my kitchen (prosperity bagua) until it sparkled? I’m sure it was coincidence, but within two weeks, two checks for $10,000 that the producers had been sitting on came in. Two. With penalty fees.
That money got me through my five-month rehab after the Crohn’s onset, when I couldn’t work. But the lessons of feng shui have gotten me through more and more. When I feel my attention wandering, I return to the book, and select a bagua to spruce up. I’ll take a purple dustcloth, purple being the color of prosperity, and run it over my dusty TV, my neglected desktop, my beautiful collection of world globes. It’s a lot of what this 21-day ‘salute’ is about: focusing my attention on what I already have, instead of making myself crazy with what I don’t.
Since then, I’ve bought and given away at least a dozen copies of the book, new and used, from various booksellers. I give them as gifts when someone moves into a new place; I give them as gifts when someone’s going through a funky time and needs a li’l help, here.
And because I’m sure some curious reader of communicatrix.com could use a little excellent ch’i flowing through his or her life, I am going to pass along my current, personal copy of Move Your Stuff, Change Your Life, with all of the good mojo (a.k.a. “communicatrix chi”) it contains, to someone who has yet to enjoy its perky, American take on ancient Chinese secrets. All I ask is that you leave a comment or email me with the area of your life you’re looking to put your attention towards and why.
And that if some of that flowing chi brings stupendous good fortune to the tune of $10,000 checks, that you drop me a line to let me know…
xxx
c
Photo by Idle Type via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license
Feng shui linkie-loos:
wikipedia
Karen Rauch Carter on baguas
When I first read your line “focusing my attention on what I already have, instead of making myself crazy with what I don’t,” I thought it made a lot of sense…
Then on second thought, it might be the worst thing, at least for me, as it would seem to encourage complacency: “What I have is plenty good — no need to work hard for more.”
My life — house, property, family, friends, job etc — is all very good, so much so that I don’t do the obvious things I should to make it better. I lack the motivation, because, well, things are good enough.
I’ve been talking for years about moving back to SF, to improve my social life and career, but whenever anyone asks why I haven’t moved yet, I have to confess I am complacent and lazy: remodeling my house into a vacation rental to finance the move makes economic sense, but as I am so comfortable, I hardly feel compelled to get a move on…
But hey — I do need to clean and de-clutter the house!
– Paul
Paul, I don’t think that appreciating what you have and cultivating goals are mutually exclusive—or at least, they don’t have to be.
Maybe you really want to move back to SF; maybe you don’t. Maybe you’ve been telling yourself a story about moving back to SF. I know that I was super-hot on moving to a smaller market for a long time. I made the trip to Bloomington, Indiana, to explore the possibilities, and they were very real—I could easily see myself living there.
On the other hand, the trip served to show me how much I actually loved about L.A., warts and all. So I’ve made it my mission to thoroughly explore my relationship with L.A., to fix what I can regarding my relationship to it, and once things are tidied up there, see how I feel about moving. Experience tells me that the application of thought and effort to a problem not only changes it, it often creates opportunities I may not have seen before.
Besides, couldn’t the preparation of your house be a celebration of its intrinsic wonderfulness? How great of a meditation is that? Regardless of whether you stay or go, you’ll be deepening your relationship with yourself and your home.
“Maybe you’ve been telling yourself a story about moving back to SF.â€
That’s probably true: a tale of an alternate universe in which I did not get married and move away. But it really is just an idealized past.
“Couldn’t the preparation of your house be a celebration of its intrinsic wonderfulness?â€
Yes, I think so. I really love my home, and will so even more when I finish the courtyard, pond, and other landscaping.
Thanks.
On another note: I’ve also never been religious, but I’d call myself an agnostic, not an atheist — meaning I don’t know. I really enjoyed What the Bleep? [and I want to see its sequel] but I don’t believe in *any* thing for which there is no scientific basis. However, I can’t seem to write fiction without it centering on ghosts, reincarnation, ESP etc — I think because the subjects have always been inherently fascinating to me, and they can serve as metaphors for left-unsaid emotions.
Paul
I want to have less stuff. I’ve held onto things my whole life, collecting items that make where I live home, but I’ve wound up with a lot of junk I don’t need and things I want but don’t have space for (the extra bed, for instance – we can’t afford a two bedroom place). Last week it dawned on me that very soon I will have to have a living space that is safe for my son to crawl around in. We’re looking for a new apartment, and I realized that in the new place I want to have less clutter so there will be more space in which I can enjoy the baby. I am ready to give up some of the stuff I’ve been hanging onto. I think I’ll look for the book at the library.
Thanks so much – again – for this timely topic. I, too, love my place (and am extraordinarily blessed to have the likes of it!) but you would NEVER know it to look at it. It’s appallingly neglected. Read: covered in shit.
I’m inspired. You’ve inspired me. Thank you.
And I hear you *extra* well from things like your paragraph #1:
“To the consternation of many thinking people who otherwise dig my shit…”
Amen!
Thanks.
Paul – My most beloved Jewish gram was an agnostic. I {heart} agnostics. Especially when they like What the Bleep and write about woo-woo stuff.
Annika – Less stuff = more good. As eldest child, I became the repository for two generations of accumulated crap before me. Yes, some of it was/is nice; no, I don’t need most of it any more. The memories are finally in my bones, and I’m ready to let go of the talismans. If I had any advice to give (and I realize the irony of ME giving advice), it would be to be kind to yourself in the letting go, and don’t rush. It’s a process.
Maral – you are most gracious. I am honored to be a part of crap clearing, wherever it happens.
What the Bleep was one of the most fascinating films I have ever had the opportunity to see. The sequel Down the Rabbit Hole was just as good. I like how it explained in depth what the main female character was going through. What our minds are capable of is breathtaking and awesome all rolled into one.
In two days I will be sober for one year from a drug that almost killed me. I was in the bowells of addiction one year ago. This particular time of year is time stopping for me. Many anniversaries or life, death, struggle and happiness all roll into one big memory for me. The thing I long for most is unexplainable.
But last year I watched What the Bleep and watched it again and then again. It answered so much and I understood. Any individual who has experienced an extreme or multiple extremes in life directly affecting themselves cannot help but be influenced emotionally and perceptively by memory.
The more I read in the blogosphere and engage in, in offline life the more I realize that I am not alone in my perceptions. For many other people are having the same or similar revelations at the same time all over the world.
Communicatrix you may like //www.masaru-emoto.net/. I was fiortunate to see the original japanese published book on his research. My friend Junko translated some for me.
Anyhow this is long, but just felt compelled to write. Cheers
…and good luck with 21 days of vinegar…
Jessica – congratulations on coming through your own rabbit hole intact. The trips aren’t always fun, but boy, are they world changing…
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