Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Wednesday Wish (38)

Forgotten Garden, Richmond Plantation
Photo by itsbrandoyo via flickr

Did the bird guide me there? His twitters awakening me to a voice I could not hear? Or was it the way the wind blew, drawing me nearer with every footstep, a path in the road invisible to all but myself? I didn’t know. And I wouldn’t know. All that mattered was that I had discovered the house, the house that seemed as if it had been inviting me to visit for a very long time.

It sat back from the road, a big open field of uncut grass protecting it like a medieval moat. Old trees with haggard bark hugged its walls, their knowing leaves trembling in the breeze, shivering with sacred vulnerability. Its windows, like eyelids, drooped, a few lined with mossy sadness, a few others boarded up with cheap plywood. But it was the feeling that spoke to me the loudest that lazy Sunday in the month of May. The feeling that felt like a flutter bug twirling in my chest.

“Does anyone live in the big white house set back from the road?” I asked a neighbor watering her plants in her perfectly manicured front yard.
“You mean the Southern mansion? Old Jim’s Southern mansion? We haven’t seen him in years but we haven’t heard of his passing either. I’m sure he’s still there. Must be…gosh…how old do you think Jim is by now, honey?”
            Her husband sat in a lawn chair on the porch reading a newspaper, “Over eighty, definitely over eighty, maybe ninety, for all I know…”
            “I’d say more like ninety. He’s become pretty reclusive in his old age. Didn’t used to be though. Used to be quite the gardener, among other things. Guess I don’t need to be telling you that. You can see all that yourself, I ‘spose,” She chuckled. Nosy neighbors tend to do that, chuckle off their nosey-ness.

I breathed in another smile born of the Southern mansion, old Jim’s Southern mansion. And this one was deeper still.

The bird may have left me. The breeze may have settled down, but the feeling…it was still there. I was being called to visit. And could not wait….

I found the entryway hiding out in the darkness of shade, tucked beneath a cluster of trees and between a mess of bushy overgrown shrubs. Two crumbling brick columns held up a rusted black gate, its hinges whining as I gave it a little push. It was open, I just opened it a little bit more. The entry was littered with leaves and yellowing camellias. Weeds popped their heads out between stones, obviously months or even years old. No one had gardened here in a very long time. And yet it was still stunning. I walked slowly, breathing in the mystery of this forgotten place, the magic that had been overlooked by so many and for so long.

As I neared the house I noticed a cluster of terracotta pots, each one filled with dirt but their flowers dead, hanging over the sides in stringy decay. There was a shovel and a rake that had been outside all winter. The stoop hadn’t been swept for seasons. The entrance was in shambles. It was even more lonely and decaying up close. I breathed in and out, slowly, trusting my instincts to visit, then leaned in to press the doorbell… 

*To be continued...

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My Wednesday Wish for You?

No matter where you are or what you are doing, there is always magical intrigue. Soften your heart, squint your eyes to see with alternate senses, and allow the guidance to bubble up from within...guidance inviting you to discover the magical intrigue that has been longing for you for so very long....

16 comments:

  1. I went outside and tried to imagine what my house would look like if I simply stopped all gardening and taking care of things... I bet Mother Nature would take back my entire place in a year... Not a bad thing, though. Not a bad thing.

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    1. and for me...our homes are a reflection of ourSelves...so what happens to a person when nature takes over? Do we look like we are in shambles but are we really? Or just sometimes? Is there a difference between lack of self care and a returning to nature and all its beautiful splendor? Is it merely consciousness? What does it mean to be in flow? Trusting in the energy of the universe, trusting that what is...is inherently beautiful....right now and always, and soaring into that like a bird into a sunset? Maybe Bill will show us in Part Two:)

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    2. "We shall not cease from exploration
      And the end of all our exploring
      Will be to arrive where we started
      And know the place for the first time"
      (T.S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding”)

      My quote to ponder for this week...

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    3. beautiful and soo sweet. Thank you, Michael...for sharing something for all of us to happily ponder:)

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  2. I have talked myself out of many Southern Mansions over the years, passing by beauty and experiences because of what I thought others might think. The day I discovered, it was more important what "I" thought, how "I" felt, and what I thought about myself was much more important. It was also more important to how others saw me, for my thoughts and expectations, the things I allowed myself to do, often changed me from an untended garden to a profusion of beauty and serenity. I seek out hidden places now, in the world, and within myself. I nev3er cease to find the beauty, I know we'll find in the second part of your story. ;-)

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    1. What a beautiful lesson...and soo true. Its funny, though, isnt it...I mean, do you think we need at some point in our lives to be in that place where we are concerned about others so that we can come back to ourselves with the depth we deserve? I think I have met people over the years who have never seemed to worry about others/what others think and from those people I have felt a disconnect...as if they are living in their own world and nothing else matters to them. There is no connection or any real need for others in their life...or so they think. So maybe we balance? We are conscious, aware of others, and then we still try to honor our deepest Selves in the midst of it all? Such a lot of things you touch on, my friend. Thank you!:)

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    2. Balance, in all things, certainly. To clarify, I guess it would have been better to say, I listen to, and care what other think about me, but I don't let it make my decisions for me. I care deeply what others feel, and what they think about me and how I affect them, but still, the ultimate decision on my path is mine. I care about what others think of themselves, as well as what they think of me, but we both benefit if I steer my course based on what I think is right, and what I feel is most needful to those I meet. The things I admire most about myself, I see mirrored in those I meet, as well as thongs things I wish I could change. The people I meet, their thoughts, wishes, hopes and dreams, are as much a part of me as my skin, my touch and my secret desires. I am... they that see me, for I see what they see, and desire to be better.

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    3. You said everything beautifully and perfectly the first time, my friend. And here again, you share even more beauty. Thank you! You are beautiful and i cant wait to hug you so you can feel how much I mean that!:)

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  3. -insert- The day I discovered, it was more important what "I" thought, how "I" felt, and what I thought about myself was much more important than what others thought, I discovered the paths that had always been before me, unseen and unheeded. :-)

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    1. I knew what you meant, beautiful soul. Thank you for always daring to share from your heart.:)

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  4. I think the bird did guide you there, Brynne, to that abandoned soul. And I wouldn’t miss part 2 for the world. I’ve been in a dark cave for 2 months, but I’m back now among the living. My soul was like that desolate landscape, but now fruit-bearing has begun again.

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    1. Ohh, Debra...I am soo sorry I wasnt there for you. I wish I could have brought you cupcakes and wept with you for I certainly did a fair amount of weeping the past few months, too...and how much better would it have been to weep together, my sweet, sweet friend. Such joy seeing you here and knowing that your soul is bearing fruit again. Sometimes we have to let our seeds sit in the dark earth before we can blossom again, no? Here's a little sunshine and some love water...to invite you to bloom wherever your spirit aches to. I love you, my friend.

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    2. Yes, the seeds fall into the deep dark earth first, and then there is new life!
      You too? Yes, we could have borrowed each other's shoulders.
      Love to you.
      Blowing a kiss from afar...<3

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    3. Got it:) And on a perfect day, too. Baby girl was up all night with a fever and is still weepy. Thank you, sweet friend:)

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  5. I love when these tales of yours take me away from the dreary daily grind here...and i cannot wait for the rest dear Brynne.

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    1. JO!! You were able to post!! Sooo exciting, my friend!! Hooray!!

      Also, soo glad you liked the post...that it warmed some part of you, my dear Jo. More magical intrigue coming soon...:)

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