Something has changed. I know that something has changed. But what it’s leading to, I don’t know.
Waking c. 07.41 from a vivid dream, telling this to Ben Bennett. T woke me from my lay-in for coffees in the window. Stretching, showering, up to morning sitting in the attic.
This attic has been featured in two tv ghost programmes. There is a common experience shared by our builders since c. 2003, while putting on a new roof and turning the attic into an inhabitable space, ghost specialists and the guests on the tv shows: they can’t breathe, and/or are being strangled.
This house has always been very active, with the woman in white by the back door an occasional but regular visitor, and occasionally a smoker on the first-floor landing, which we attribute to the Spiers sisters from the days when our home was the Willow Café. And many other visitings and presences that might be reported at another time.
The presence in the attic has not been welcoming. A space that didn’t invite me in despite the re-furbishment in 2003/4. So last year I decided to re-vibrate the attic’s energy.
Firstly, by turning it into a cabinet of curiosities with personal memorabililia, succulents from T’s Godmother Gee’s original plant from 25 years ago, and jades. I engage with the plants in the same was as I talk to trees: bringing attention into the hands, the energy between the hands when this is focused, then bringing my hands around the plants’ own energy field. Essentially, saying hello! and letting them know they are seen, acknowledged, thanked for their life and beauty and being in our home.
Secondly, by making it the space for my morning sitting.
Today, energy is moving. The sun is shining, and illuminating the Abbey spire. The sky is blue. Spring is leaning back and pulling us forward. Life is beginning, again.
