My home of almost a quarter of a century burnt down this past June, after being abandoned and boarded up for over 6 years. I was evicted, along with the other tenants in the house, and everyone else in the five century homes on the same side of the street. Most of the tenants on that side of the street were various artists and other low-income persons. After we were evicted by the landlord/developers - nice development, eh? - they boarded up all the houses and left them derelict for squatters to regularly invade and occupy. The squatters would be booted out on a regular basis, the doors were boarded up again, and then the desperate folk looking for shelter would come back, knock down the doors and start the whole cycle over again. It went on like this until somebody, looking to warm themselves one chilly night, lit a fire in my former home and shut it down for good.
I tell this sorry little story because it's a perfect metaphor for my life right now; at least it was at the time of the fire. There have been profound changes in my life this past year, most of them good, or at least resulting in something good. When I was evicted from my home, it was a death of sorts - a death of a way of life I had known for half my life at the time. There was sadness and struggle, and a lot of purging. I rid myself of more than half of what I'd accumulated in all those years living there, and have been purging a little all the time ever since. But along with this highly significant "death" in my life, there was also renewal.
Fast forward more than 6 years to the present, when my life and circumstances have changed again, and the house I was so unceremoniously kicked out of burns down. I found out about what had happened to my house upon my return from my brief and joyous sojourn abroad. And of course I don't think it's simply a random event in my life that my old digs should burn down when and how they did. In the years following my eviction, I sometimes returned to see how my long-time, former home was doing. It was falling apart rapidly, of course, and signs of the cyclical coming and going of squatters was clearly evident. I suppose that's not so surprising; the abandoned houses were practically calling out to homeless people to come and try them out.
My former home was only one of five, large, once-beautiful houses all abandoned and boarded up at the same time. I couldn't help noticing that the only house that was ever crashed into by squatters was mine. And no matter how many times the illegal tenants got shut out of there, they always came back to my place, even though the other homes were as accessible as mine. Go figure.
Of course I apply significance to that fact. I like to think that a certain sense of a happy home still surrounded the place more than the others. You know - good vibes. There was a certain magic to the house and its surroundings. Sometimes people even commented on it. So maybe even homeless folks looking for a good place to crash sensed it as well. I watched all this going on over the subsequent years following my eviction, moving twice in the interim and ending up in my current abode. Things didn't really get much easier and "luckier" for me (whatever that is) until this year, and then wouldn't you know, when I finally felt the struggle and yearning abate, and a brand new life begin, my former home goes up in flames. It became a symbol of my former life being over for good. I couldn't go back even if I wanted to.
I'm dwelling on this right now because of the time of year, and time of life - I have a significant birthday ending in a zero coming up. I've been pondering my upcoming birthday ever since my last birthday, and these symbolic events don't let me forget it. The Zen saying - while you are living know that you are dying - is about living your life while being aware of your own mortality. That isn't morbid. It makes a person aware of what is truly important in this life.
But I'm tired now. I'm aware that my neck and shoulders ache from sitting at the computer for too long, and that it's important for me to recognize that and stop hurting myself more, despite the pleasure I get from writing another little blurb on my little web. I'm also aware that it's mid-afternoon and the rain and clouds that have been around all day are departing, and are leaving behind a fresh, moist, not-quite-fiery-red-and-gold autumn day. I shall go walking and breathing and thence to a closing shift at the bookstore where I work.
Everything happens for a reason (well - most
things - the Universe includes randomness, of course), and the messages, signs and symbols the Universe sends me do not go unnoticed. Some of those signs aren't pretty, but they're often the ones that pack the biggest punch. So I'm off to look for more signs - nice, happy signs - on what's turning out to be a lovely day. And I'll leave you with a nice, happy sign, too. Enjoy.Blessed be.
- G. P.
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