Inner Feng Shui: It's not just for furniture anymore Wind & Water by Carole Hyder I don't know how many e-mails or phone calls I received in the last two months from people sharing their pain and their broken hearts about the tragedies going on in the world -- New York, the Afghan women, the war, to name a few. Some of the calls were from students, some from friends, some were strangers. Everyone seemed to be looking for some way to make sense of the nonsensical. Surely Feng Shui must hold some kind of adjustment for such a time as this, they said. The truth of it is, there isn't a crystal big enough, there isn't a wind-chime loud enough, there isn't a color red enough to shift this kind of energy flow. I sat here in my "perfectly Feng Shui'd" living room watching the world crash and not having a clue as to what to think, let alone what to do. Everything I've learned about spatial influences and how to work with them felt so mundane and so trivial at that moment. My initial reaction resulted in a desperate state of futility. I heard about people running out giving blood, sending money, sending clothes. What was I going to do? Run out and Feng Shui something? Like so many people, I was faced with the big question of "what am I doing?" and "does it even matter?" The Chinese have a very simple philosophy -- keep things in balance. If there's too much flow, slow it down. If there's no flow, move something. If we're frightened, find a way to feel safe. If we're unsure, find a way to get to certainty. If we're scared, protect yourself. Obviously, what makes one person feel safe, certain and protected is likely to be different from another person. I know what makes me feel safe and protected is knowing I'm in control. If I'm in control, I can feel relaxed, then I'm certain about my life. It seemed that Feng Shui adjustments needed to be done on an inner plane, not on the typical physical level. Nevertheless, I ascertained that a few things on my desk were starting to bug me, so off they went. I cleaned out a shelf in the closet, but it was pretty much in order already. I went through the e-mails I was saving and deleted some of those neat offers I never got around to taking advantage of, along with poems a friend sent that I was sure I'd want to keep forever. With the same energy, I swept through my Word Perfect documents. I cleaned out a desk drawer, as well, all in an attempt to ease the feelings of being overwhelmed. I got rid of some silk flowers that I didn't like any more. I think this is when the idea of a Christmas tree starting germinating, but more about that later. I realized that there was nothing more I could do to ease the uncertainty. On a physical level, my office would pass any Feng Shui inspection. I needed to do something else -- something deeper. If I remember correctly, it was the next day I was trying to get a bunch of paper work done that my phone rang, on average, every 15 minutes. Along with this were the e-mails that continued to stream in. The mail arrived with a stack of additional responsibilities. I was definitely not in control, and not feeling secure. I took out my calendar, looked at the month of December and calmly blocked the whole thing out. It was the first time in a long time I felt decisive, certain and in control. Shortly after this decision, my husband and I were in a gardening store, when I announced, to him and to myself, that I wanted my own Christmas tree in my office. This made no sense to me. Logically, there was no reason. Never mind, I was flying through the store buying a small tree, picking out miniature ornaments, and measuring for twinkle lights. It took me a whole evening to put those tiny ornaments on the sad-looking Charlie Brown tree. I even hung a few round faceted crystals on it to lift its ch'i. I love looking at it. If I arrive home after dark, I see its sparkly lights shining out the window. It reminds me of my promise to myself to make time to bring the holiday spirit into my days. It reminds me that in the midst of hardship, there is hope and that in the times of fear and darkness, there is light and joy. It reminds me to keep a sense of peace that I can then offer to others. My little tree turned out to be the Feng Shui adjustment for the world after all. Carole J. Hyder has been a practicing Feng Shui consultant since 1992. She incorporates both Black Sect and Traditional Compass schools in her private consultations. She is founder of the Embracing Experience and Deepening Experience Associative Programs for those interested in being trained in Feng Shui. Carole is author of Wind and Water: Your Personal Feng Shui Journey. You can reach her at (612) 823-5093 or carole@carolehyder.com. Her website is www.carolehyder.com. Copyright © 2002 Carole J. Hyder |
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