As in Heaven…
As in Heaven…

As in Heaven…

There is a very old saying coined by Hermes Trismegistus that says, “As above, so below.” The actual text of that maxim, made famous by way of the infamous Emerald Tablet, as translated by Dennis W. Hauck is “That which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above corresponds to that which is Below, to accomplish the miracle of the One Thing”. I got that from Wikipedia.

 

My dad used to always tell me growing up that my messy room reflected my life. I would scoff at him as most teenagers tend to do when parents say something profoundly unnecessary at the most inopportune times. His words were profound. It took me to have homes of my own and take pride in my living space to finally get what dear old dad was getting at.

 

I’m sure all of us can attest to the messy crib from time to time. It normally happens when life gets ahead of us and there just aren’t enough hours in the day to fit everything in. Life has harried us and so our homes reflect that sentiment. We feel cluttered and so we look about all the clutter and roll our eyes. When we feel sick, our house looks sick. When we’re having a bad day, so does our home space.

 

On the other side of the coin, when the crib is clutter-free, clean and pristine, our pace quickens, we feel organized, on point. The energy in the room is peaceful, relaxed. The weight of the world rolls off. Everything becomes possible. Heads clear. When the head is clear, the house is clean. Our home reflects our life doesn’t it? As above, so below. As within, so without. As in Heaven, so it is on Earth. Is it possible that our environment reflects how we feel about ourselves and our lives in general? Is it possible that pride of home, comes from pride of self? Or even deeper, that our homes happen to teach us important lessons about ourselves?

 

I believe it does. When I first left the nest as a grown up, I wasn’t much of a home keeper. I knew how to clean, I just didn’t care to do it–except when company was coming. I would pile crap in every unoccupied orifice of my house to give the illusion that I wasn’t nearly as junky as I was. By the time the main one became my live in one, my junkiness didn’t matter much–he was already in love–and then my secret was out. I was a mess and consequently, so was my life.

 

When Aubrei came into the picture, I was going through a life transformation on all fronts. My life started to crumble–literally and figuratively. I was at a cross roads between what I knew about myself and who I actually was. I whole-heartedly wanted to be the best person I could be for my daughter to get the best of me. Facades were rolling off of me left and right.

 

You have to understand that I nearly lost my life having Aubrei and so everything that I was willing to put up with prior to having her, began to drain me in ways I really can’t explain in words here. Tragedy hit me in so many ways and on so many levels. I was stripped down to my barest, barest, barest essentials. There were three weeks when Aubrei and I were essentially homeless–not out on the streets or living in my car–but I’ll tell you what, if it had not been for my ex’s mom, we would have been. I remember those 3 weeks being the lowest point of my life. I was on the outs with my own family–save for my Dad– and my ex and I weren’t really on solid footing. Everything in my life was a mess. I literally had nothing except my baby, my good health, a career I loved that worked me down to my molecules and a whole bunch of stuff in my life that I knew I didn’t want.

 

At the time, the Ex and I were contemplating the possibility of getting back together. We were looking for a place. Meanwhile, he was bullshitting and I was anxious. I was working 20 hour days, plus the baby, plus he refused to like any place I liked. Everything came to a head on the third week of the worst month of my life when my ex and I got into a huge fight about nothing in particular and he told me I had to take my daughter and figure it all out on my own. He didn’t say it in those words exactly, but that was the gist–plus he said it on voicemail. *shitty* He didn’t mean it, I don’t think, but because I had already gone through too much already, I took what he said and ran with it.

 

By the literal grace of GOD–the details of which will be present when I finally write my memoirs–one of the apartments I had gone to see and liked was made available to me. On the same day Aubrei and I were almost homeless again. We moved in that day under miraculous circumstances. That was the day my life officially started over and I learned an important lesson about my personal faith, who I really am and how our space ultimately reflects who we are and what we are designed to be in a very spiritual sense.

 

Because I had lived on my own for the better part of 10 years, I had accumulated a whole bunch of crap that was all in storage at the time. It wasn’t necessarily my crap. You know how it goes, you move out of the parental unit home and everybody wants to give you their hand me downs. Not that they’re bad, it’s just that they’re not yours. I didn’t pick them out, they didn’t reflect me at all. I was forced to make a decision. Get all that crap out of storage and put it in my new home–the home I had decided was the place of change and new beginnings or bite the bullet and start from scratch. I also knew that if I wanted extraordinary results, I had to do some extraordinary things AND trust myself and the process. Not an easy thing for a clinically Type A personality like me to do.

 

I decided that whatever I was going through, it was happening for a reason. It was a part of my journey. It was a phase of my life where I was required to break it all down–everything I thought I knew about myself. I had to be willing to lose everything I thought I had to gain everything I really wanted. So, I opted to leave my past in storage, while I figured out who I really was and what I really wanted. *insert agonizing painful sound here*

 

 

It seemed so silly to even my closest friends. Why would a perfectly sane girl, who grew up in Bucks County and who seemingly came from everything–willingly CHOOSE to live with virtually nothing for just shy of 8 months? *Just use the crap you have Envy, then replace stuff as you can afford to.* Nothing I will write in this post can make it make sense. I just knew that’s what I had to do. I knew that by bringing my past into my present, I was resetting a cycle. I was bringing old energy into a new mind set, even if it was only symbolic. In my spirit, I guess I knew what I was doing. I wanted to build my life up from scratch. I knew I couldn’t do that if I kept recycling shit I didn’t ever want, but folk just kept giving me. It was a lesson I will take with me for the rest of my life.

 

The first several months in Aubrei and my new crib, I reveled in the quiet, peacefulness of living there with no furniture. Mind you, The first week (with a little help) I bought a fabulous glass table and totally cool leather dining chairs from Pier 1 (we needed to at least have some place to eat.) The blank slate of the living room, devoid of couch, gave me so many ideas. I would sit on the carpet I kept immaculately clean and just look around and see how I wanted everything to look. I would sketch ideas for the window treatment I would create, envision the couch, bookcases, hanging art. It was amazing how the blank slate of Aubrei and my new apartment took hold of me creatively. I let the ideas flow, just to see what I would come up with. Even more amazing, I became a “cleanstress” during these times because there was so little to work with, I was intent on keeping what I had immaculate–funny how literally having nothing does that, isn’t it?

 

Because there was so much space, Aubrei and I would regularly put on music and just dance like we were crazy. She and I had a ball, even though we were sleeping on an air mattress at night. The thing about it was, Aubrei didn’t know the difference. She was happy just being with me. It never bothered her in the least whether I ever saved enough money to buy my fabulous Temperpedic mattress(or her own fabulous stuff for her own room)–which I did btw. Aubrei is better than a trooper. She’s a pure soul.

 

One by one, the other pieces came into the fold. Some things I bought very carefully. Some things I found by pure luck. My taste is what I’ve dubbed “modern eclectic”. I like unusual antiques and I like clean lines. I wanted every piece of furniture to make a statement somehow. I like things with character, but I’m also a fan of high quality. Clearly, I have Armand de Brignac taste with a Vitamin Water budget. But no matter. I learned that I have a knack for rehabbing furniture. I found this dresser. Solid wood, totally unique, one of a kind, by a very well named maker that somebody didn’t want anymore. I took it home, painstakingly sanded it, stained it and it looks like I paid a mint for it.

 

My couch came the same way– although I had another couch from Macy’s in mind for months. Everytime I had the money to buy the couch in question, it wasn’t on sale. I literally got the measurements for the couch and put blue painter’s tape on the wall to reflect where the couch would go, for visualization purposes. One day I got so frustrated after months of looking at that damned tape, I ripped the tape down and threw it in the trash. That weekend, I found THE perfect couch. It actually looks like a throne–antique–hand carved ornate mahogany wood, this odd, but warm green velvet that I had professionally cleaned, went to fabric store and got new innards, added some special touches–better than new.

 

Each and every single piece in Aubrei and my new home was hand picked and perfectly placed based on hours of my dreaming, contemplating and visualizing what my santuary would look like. It was a literal creative work in progress. If I found something that was of excellent quality, but needed some work, I did the work like I would have paid a professional to do.

 

Case in point, I found this chair. At first glance it was utterly ugly. It was this like teal shabby–I have no idea what fabric it was, but it won’t cute. But I loved the tufted detailing. It needed to be fully re-upholstered and there was no budget room to get it done professionally, but by this time, my confidence was through the roof.  I let the chair sit in the corner of my budding masterpiece of a home for about a month until I got this fabulous idea for what I would do.

 

I went to the fabric store and bought several yards of remnant pieces of beautiful fabrics. The fabric I ended up using was a thick ivory sateen. I found inspirational quotes that I liked and printed them on that paper you get at the office supply store to make t-shirts. Then I took all of those sayings and ironed them on the fabric. Then I went to the art store and bought fabric paint in silver, gold and bronze and added hand painted detail around the ironed pieces. I took the chair apart piece by piece, sanded and stained the wood parts, and then put the chair back together.

 

The end result is the picture featured in this post–My inspirational chair. The final piece that finished up Aubrei and my new home. The piece that brought that one part of my journey home. It took me eight months, but I created a home that was truly Aubrei and mine from a literal blank slate. With only some faith, tenacity, and a whole lot of creativity. I had no idea that I could do it. But I did it anyway. I made my outside reflect my inside. And I learned how to keep an immaculate house in the process.

 

Plus, having nothing for a while, made me appreciate everything that came after. I worked for it. I literally created it using the gifts I already had, but had no idea were there. So now, because of making the decision to leave my past in storage to start fresh, I got way more than a few new skills, I literally got exactly what I was after. A fresh start. My life now is ever more abundant in every imaginable way because of it.

 

The funniest part about all of this is that I was going through the most difficult and most rewarding time of my life privately. I never gave off that anything was awry in the slightest to those around me except for a few close friends. I was doing my thing on the air, I kept a rigorous appearance schedule, put in my time behind the scenes and nobody knew a thing. All the while, with every little step I took toward creating my home sanctuary, I was relearning me. Finding my soul.

 

And now I’m here. I’m in the process of moving again. And I’m so excited! I have a storage space full of the beautiful hand crafted furniture that I chose and refabulized to look forward to; and that reflects me perfectly. Tears are actually welling as I write this.

 

A part of me is like–I can’t believe I’m doing it all over again. The thing is, this time, I know who I am. This time, I know what I want. This time, I know what I was put on this Earth to do and I’m doing it with a full heart, an open mind and spirit and with more creativity than even I think I can stand sometimes. I’m making a few changes to what I have, of course, because I’ve learned never to go into a new place with all the same old stuff. The good thing is, all the stuff I have now is truly mine. And my life now is ever more abundant than it has ever been because of a painfully powerful lesson I gave myself the space to learn a few years ago.

 

I write all of this to say to you, It’s all possible. No matter what you’re going through. No matter how many times you have to start over. No matter how much crap is in you’re life right now. Fresh starts happen every single day. All we have to do is be willing to let our Heaven reflect our Earth. That is–let our minds authentically reflect what our lives become. Let our home reflect who we truly are. Clean up the mess within to reveal the masterpiece without. You don’t have to let your past dictate your future. Sometimes, you have to keep your past in storage until you allow yourself space enough to let it all go and start over with a blank slate. Your life will be everything you will it to be. The truth is– it really does start at home.

 

The moral of this story? I have no rightly idea. Just some food for thought. Thank you for reading this though. Peace and abundant “get your home in order!” blessings. Love, -e-