Following Daisies – Chapter Three: My Brush with Grace

This is the fourth installment of a 17 part blog series launching my new book, Following Daisies – A True Story about One Woman’s Adventures Finding Happiness, Fulfilling Dreams and Becoming Herself. You’ll be able to enjoy and preview 16 of the 64 chapters here online.

If you’re looking to pursue some of your own life dreams, longing to learn how to follow your heart or just wanting a funspirational, adventure-filled read, then this book is for you!

If you are just joining us, I suggest you begin by reading the Introduction, Chapter One and Chapter Two before continuing.

Now, let’s continue Following Daisies!

© Copyright by Heather Pardon, 2012. All rights reserved.

Feng shui. I could barely pronounce the term, but for some reason in the months prior to selling my house, I suddenly developed an interest in it.

No, it’s not an oriental noodle dish. Feng shui does have its origins in the Eastern world however. Let me clearly state that I am not a feng shui expert by any means. On the other hand, I do make a very nice pad thai which would be helpful if we were discussing noodles but we’re not. My understanding of feng shui is this—it’s a rather mystical and complex body of knowledge that shows us how to balance the energies of any given space to help assure our health and good fortune.

How were my surroundings impacting me? I’d begun to wonder. Could I incorporate feng shui into my own life and achieve different results? I’d heard stories of folks who’d integrated the principles of feng shui only to see their business profits increase or to attract new love. At the very least, I figured it might help me locate a few pairs of missing socks or take my pad thai to even greater heights.

I suspect that the gang at the Magical Dream Place Headquarters had something to do with how it happened. Earlier in the spring of 2009, I was contacted by Grace, a feng shui practitioner who was planning a visit to Ottawa. My feng shui prayer had been answered and we quickly bartered a deal.  In exchange for a stay at my bed and breakfast, Grace offered me a feng shui consultation on my home.

Grace, the person, and Grace, the divine force, entered into my life with most synchronous timing. Both arrived the day that I signed the papers that secured the deal on the sale of my house. The ink had barely dried on the deal when Grace began, “So tell me about your experience in this house.”

Grace lived up to her name. She had a calm, confident energy and an aura of divinity that surrounded her. There was no doubt that I’d come face to face with my feng shui master.

I shared my long list of experiences in the house, many of which seemed likely fodder for a reality television show. Besides the aforementioned relationship meltdown and ill-timed mid-July death of my refrigerator that left my house smelling like rotten salmon for weeks, there were the numerous costly home repairs and the crazy student tenants. There were also a few ‘memorable’ B and B guests including the obsessive-compulsive man who scrubbed and bleached the bathroom walls, resulting in the need for a revised paint job, and the fellow who completely misread my leisure interests and invited me to his friend’s nudist camp. There was the guest who punched a hole in the wall. Life did not always run smoothly shall I say.

Grace listened without judgement, only nodding as I continued my story. When I finished she simply said, “I can understand why this house didn’t work out for you.” She pointed out areas of my home where objects were misplaced, places that needed enhancement, but most importantly, she helped me to begin to understand the importance of energy in my life. What surrounds me, whether people, places or things, not only impacts my life but also serves as a reflection of what is going on within it. I’d been surrounded by turmoil, discontent and stress for years. Clearly, it was time to have a look at what was going on inside of me.

I felt wiggly-giggly with excitement. There was no doubt that selling my house was the right thing to do. Not that I‘d left myself with any other option at that point anyways!

The first thing I needed to do was to deal with my ‘stuff’. We can become inexplicably attached to our ‘stuff’. I would

guess that most of us don’t even know what ‘stuff’ we actually have. We are a culture that strives for it, longs for it, places inexplicable value on it, yet one that also has a lack of awareness of the impact of our ‘stuff’.

I had accumulated a two-storey, three-bedroom house full of stuff in less than six years. I’ll admit that I felt somewhat nervous as I glanced around the living room, trying to choose one object to part ways with. This would mark the beginning of my process of letting go and saying goodbye to the place I’d called home for the past six years. Grace guided my choice: “Choose something you haven’t used in the past year. Or something you use only seasonally. Or something you don’t feel particularly attached to.”

A candle on the fireplace mantle caught my eye. I didn’t truly like the candle; it was merely taking up some space that I once thought needed to be filled.

I didn’t love it, my inside voice reminded me. I had never even used it. Heather, fill your life with things you love. I put it into a box, wondering why I’d kept it so long, the first item of many that I would let go of in the weeks and months to come.

There was one last piece of advice that Grace left me with. “You need to face west in order to prosper in all areas of your life.” The messenger and the message had arrived. Somehow, west it would be.

*

We’re taught that life is linear, A goes to B, B leads to C, and so on. Thus when I sold my house, I followed convention and began the search for another. I looked at homes for a few weeks without having any luck finding whatever it was I was searching for.

My search ended one day when my agent showed me the ‘Westmount’, a model home in the west side of the city. Something about that house left me feeling a sense of warmth and excitement I’d not felt in a long time. As we were about to leave, I was stopped in my tracks as I glanced into the powder room and smiled. Staring back at me were two large pictures of wild daisies, a flower that seemed to line the roadside of my life. My search for a new house stopped then and there, even though the model home was not yet on the market for sale. There was just something about the ‘Westmount’ that had captured my attention and left me no reason to search any further.

Meanwhile, my family and friends kept up their vigil of worry and concern.

“Are you looking for a house?”  they’d ask.

“No.”

“Well, where are you going to live?”

“I don’t know, don’t worry about it.” I extend my apologies to all those, particularly my mother, for whom my replies likely caused a shortening of life span.

What I felt like doing and what made the most sense to me was simply to continue getting rid of unwanted stuff in my life. When I looked back on my life and my house, it was like looking back at a burning building, one that I couldn’t escape fast enough.

It wasn’t until five weeks away from my June 24 closing date that I decided it was time to figure out where I was going to live next.

And that’s when I called my friend Tara.

See you next time for Chapter Four: Intuitively Speaking

In the meantime, Be Wild. Be a Daisy!

Heather

 

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