Last night, I decided to start feng shui-ing my apartment. Actually, I was frustrated because the temperature was so warm over the weekend (despite the horrible wind and rain) that I naively thought I would be putting my cold weather coat away and busting open my sort-of-cold weather coat. Then, I could do a sort of mini-spring cleaning and rotate weather appropriate clothing, footwear, and exercise equipment. Unfortunately, the temperatures Monday and Tuesday showed me! Unable to spring clean, I decided to feng shui.
I know nothing about feng shui. My bedroom (or bed-section of my one room apartment) looks NOTHING like the above picture. I got a feng shui book for Christmas one year, though, and figured I could crack it open and put it to good use. Isn't the whole basis of feng shui essentially the same as the Philipino New Year's philosophy: if your living space is in chaos, then your life will be in chaos. Kind of like Clean Sweep with a few strategically placed candles and bamboo flutes.
I decided to start my feng shui adventure in the "love and relationships" corner of the apartment. After last Friday, it seems safe to assume that I am attracting an interesting kind of attention, though not necessarily the kind I want. Maybe I can clean and rearrange myself into a meeting with a more appropriate guy.
One GOOD thing about my apartment set up is that the bed is over in the "love section". That's good chi! I'm halfway there already. Plus, I'm a fairly neat person so nothing gets too overly messy and blocks the chi flow. Or so I thought.
My bed is catty cornered, and even though I regularly extend my long-handled-static-duster- thingie into the back triangle, it is apparently not enough. When I climbed back there, cleaning supplies and energy tools in hand, I was shocked --SHOCKED -- at the amount of dust that had accumulated. My "love area" was dusty, dirty, and neglected! Oh no! Ten minutes of work with my lavender-scented-environmentally-sound-spray-cleaner and rag, and I was feeling pretty good. I reached into my box of things that I had gathered from around the apartment and carefully arranged two red votive candles and a pink plastic heart that came on a bunch of flowers. I stuck a round mirror on top of the small table back there (to counteract the sloping ceiling over the bed) and inwardly congratulated myself on the red light display on the digital clock.
Feeling pretty smug, I moved my attention to under the table. Several months ago, I had placed a small pile of books there, figuring when I went to bed, I could just reach down, read a few pages, and then plop it back down when I got tired. I haven't touched the books since. Scanning the titles, I was dismayed to read: "Go Your Own Way, Tales of Single Women Traveling the World", "Skinny Bitch", "Power vs Force", and "Handling Difficult Emotions and Maintaining Control". What the heck have I been clogging up my love corner with? Those books had to go. Immediately! Plus, on top of the pile of books, was a Van Halen ticket from last October. Sure, their music is great, but NOBODY in that band is a good role model for love and committed relationships.
At this point, I was longer feeling smug. In fact, I was dangerously close to a panic attack. I moved onto my last task for the night: cleaning under the bed. Once again, I was disturbed by the amount of dust that had accummulated. At least dust is easy to clean. Lastly, I took a peek into the storage containers that I keep under the bed, just to check if what I am keeping there is appropriate to my newly feng shuied bedroom. What did I find? Projects. Lots and lots of projects. I guess that explains a lot.
My task tonight is to find those projects a new home.