... Go ...
The new house.
Closing day on our new house is drawing near, and during meditation thoughts come up to greet me, even as I concentrate on the morning cacophony of the birds of the Wissahickon, or the mantras given me over the years by Swami Ji, or the transcendental folks. I wanted so badly to learn how to meditate in those days. I was in my early twenties, and my more affluent friend, Melinda, loaned me the $120 I needed at the time for the course.
I think of moments after the closing - the settlement with lawyers and technicalities. The handing over of down-payment checks, and the signing of signatures, the full name here, just initials there. Will we go for a celebratory brunch with our sweetheart of an estate agent - Craig? He has been with us for the past eighteen months in and out of house after house as none seemed to suit our station (as Dick called it, that day back in April during the house inspection), or phase of life. And then, one day, we found it, and Craig became as excited as us, understanding that we had found it - there and then, in the moment.
Or will I go straight to the new house and bring with me just two or three items - maybe a few more - just to plant them there? Just to show that we will be moving in soon, very soon. Within the next few days. Two or three items flow into my brain as I meditate in the dawn light. Hamsa for the front door, and the harp-hamsa Elise gave us during our March visit, perhaps for the back door, because that is the most popular entry point most probably, driving into the back, down the stone steps and into the breakfast room. That way we will hear the gentle, harmonious clanging of the harp as the door opens and closes with future entries and exits. And what about the hand-painted pottery sign that reads, Peace to all who enter here? Where will I hang that during those first moments after the closing?
I wonder, and then mantras return to my brain flow, tweets and calls of the birds in the morning as I feel the light seeping through. I sigh deeply and open my eyes slowly. When I turn my head I notice little Ada lying close by, like a small, furry Sphinx waiting silently, patiently. She greets me with a tiny gasping "peep, peep."
The day has begun.
A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Post quel to turning 60
i love the harp hamsa. i had a beautiful door harp made by an uncle, and in our move across the country it has been lost somehow.
your new home is lovely, and i hope you will enjoy putting it in order and claiming it as your own.
Posted by: Sky | June 02, 2010 at 08:20 AM