Feng Shui A+
The difference in our home is phenomenal. When clients come these days, they say things like, “This feels like a whole new house.” It is. And it isn’t. But it does feel that way.
My ergonomic computer desk lets me look out our front-of-house window. I am nourished by the richness of the old, old Bostonian trees. I even find the winter starkness of those same branches sans leaf fulfilling. Trees are my friends.
Unfortunately, facing the window means that, even though I’m writing in the prosperity corner of my tiny office, my back is to the door. Anyone who knows anything about feng shui knows that that’s not a good idea. In fact, it’s a dreadful idea.
Things had, however, changed careerwise—in excellent ways. Which pleased me. I’d taken my novels and my memoir back from an agent who had been less than productive for me, was making headway in terms of new choices for the books. Things were shifting which was the reason we had the feng shui done in the first place. So, what to do?
I called Lynn and asked her to come back for an hour. We wanted to show her what we’d done to be sure, and she was rapturous about our work (based on her work.) We definitely earned an A+. It’s been years since my sweetie and I have received grades for anything and it tickled us no end.
Anyway, my officina. Well, Lynn understood the problem instantly. She agreed in theory. So the three of us in my office along with all the furniture starting moving things, trying this, trying that. Lynn was in there with us, pushing chairs, sliding the desk, whatever it took. We worked for nearly thirty minutes solid until Lynn stopped us.
“This isn’t working,” she said quietly. We waited. “What this is, my friends, is an affirmation that what you had was correct.”
The moment she said it, we knew she was right. We put it all back. Then we began to discuss alternative feng shui solutions. We settled on a curvy mirror in the corner. Ebay, anyone?
That was a fun journey. Looking for an outrageous rococo gilt mirror, a little bit of Versailles in my warren of an office.
In passing, we also mentioned the idea of putting my chair in the corner and getting a new (read: smaller) desk. Well, that sent us on a thoroughly different adventure yesterday. We went to the Cambridge Antique Market—a four-story building chock full of goodies wherein I began to see desks that were appealing. We measured and took iPhone photos like mad only to realize that almost everything was too tall.
Eventually, I resorted to a simple parsons table design in black and have a query in to our gentleman handyman to ask if he’d be comfortable taking five inches off the legs of the $50 desk. We’ll see what he says but I have a feeling it’ll be a piece of cake, and well workth to have a desk I can sit at where my feet touch the floor—a genuine novelty! Actually, two desks to make an L-shape, and he can!
Sunday morning, I consolidated the five final mirror candidates into an email. I’ll open them later, after I’ve done the puzzle, and make my choice. Or so I’d thought until my sweetie said that if I got a new desk and put it where the classic rules of feng shui ask, then I probably wouldn’t even need the mirror.
So the point, Beloved, is this: Feng Shui consultations change things for the better. Sometimes, in big ways. Sometimes, small. But change for sure, and that’s what we’d wanted all along.
Again, Lynn Taylor, thank you so very much!
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