It’s hard to know where to start this story. Perhaps I’ll tell it backwards.
I’ll begin at the point where I have just finished cleansing the energy of my house. I have walked each room, smudging it with burning sage. I have put out bowls of salt and essential oils. I have set the intention for each room– with words and thoughts of hospitality and comfort, courage and peace. Lots of peace. Lots of grace.
In each room, I have played a carefully selected piece of music – mostly Celtic, instrumental, spiritual, meaningful. All the windows are open; a storm is approaching with soft thunder rolling gently across a freshening breeze. It is the “liminal time” between day and night, the night of a full moon. It is the perfect time and atmosphere for an energy cleansing in all its renewal and spirit-driven delight.
I am alone for this experience. With the exception of Tuppence the cat. Tuppence is timid and shy and cautious, yet unaccountably and absolutely fascinated with smudging sage and walking barefoot through the entire house to lilting music and words of the heart. She is having as much fun as I am.
As instructed, we entered the house through one main door, went into each room wafting our burning sage, speaking our warmest intentions; then we exited through the same main door. At the end, we asked for God’s Blessings on the house and all who enter. And I have reclaimed the energy of it as my own.
The “energy cleansing” itself was advised by a friend of mine from Augusta who has exceptional skills in empathy and reading energy – of people and places. We had not seen each other in over a year. She had never been to my house. And yet, when she came to visit and I gave her a tour of my home (as one does with first-time visitors) she responded with great enthusiasm and smiles and remarks of “oh, this is so much you” – until we entered the guest bedroom and bath. Here, she exclaimed the energy was absolutely wrong – frightening – toxic. She pulled the doors shut behind us, closing it off from the rest of the house. She could not define why the energy was so negative. But I soon did.
I quickly remembered a recent houseguest … “the houseguest that should never have been.” It was woefully evident from the start that this former school friend should never have come to visit. Too many years had passed. Old crushes – especially one- sided ones even back in the day – need to be left behind in the rose-colored haze of memory. Yet he brought it all with him to stay with me for an unexpected, unbelievable 10 days. No one should ever be a houseguest for 10 days. No one. Ever. Especially one dragging along decades of unrequited expectations. It was beyond painful. It was excruciating for both of us. Surreal in constant anxiety and unease. Awkwardness would have been a welcome relief. It was like a Woody Allen movie gone terribly wrong. It seems rather funny now, but was mind-numbing at the time.
When my empathetic friend from Augusta came for dinner a few weeks after the visit, she knew nothing of this negative experience that had taken place in my home. And yet, she had “read” it immediately and with dead-on accuracy.
Thanks to her advice – and one amazingly uplifting Saturday night of “energetic cleansing,” my entire house is now mine again. Reclaimed with and for peace and comfort and joy and love. Everyone who visits now can feel it too. (Although no one is allowed to stay for 10 days.)
If you should feel the need to cleanse your own house energy … I have sage, will travel. Because, I suspect, where we call home may not really matter. How we feel within it does.
This story is dedicated to the loving memory of my best friend and mentor, dog Indy, who was one the most amazing and positive energies I have ever known. He blessed every part of my home and life from 2013 to 2017.
Marti Healy is a writer living in Aiken with cat Tuppence. She was a professional copywriter for longer than 35 years, and is a columnist, book author, and popular speaker, whose work has received national recognition and awards.