As I sit down to commune with my internal Real Estate of Mind this week, I’m basking peacefully in the warm afternoon sun on the deck of the magical rural retreat featured in the ad, just the right of this column. (Shameless promotion)
Dragonflies are darting above the pond. Wisteria is exploding in glorious springtime passion. The scent of herbs and flowers on garden paths provide sweet aromatic compliment to the soothing sounds of silence pervading the air. Everything here is oriented to a different world than the one I am usually immersed in. Everything is connected in a lush, open, spacious landscape of light and enlightenment.
Once again…I am reminded…that I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. And once again…time has stopped long enough for me to mindfully reach for the twin blessings of balance and perspective. Home is the ultimate place of centering. If we are at home in our own houses, in our own skins, in our own hearts…then there is always a rock to anchor us and provide a true compass reading whatever direction the world seems headed in.
If I were intent on listening to the pundits of doom and the gossips of gloom and the post-boom bloggers and the sound-bytes of nightly anchormen and the wounded words of self-maimed fear and greed mongers and the white noise machine droning just a decibel level below the murmurings of the silent majority of good folks who have succumbed to a tsunami of debilitating doubt….then…. I think I would be somewhere other than here in this perfect world on this perfect afternoon.
Maybe I’d be in a world of hurt. Maybe I’d be pushing the panic button. Maybe I’d be using my mental calculator to add up the long litany of ills besetting the globe. Ohmygod, my stock portfolio is down, my home equity has shrunk, we’re in a recession and I can’t seem to feel the positive electrical currents of a stimulus package flowing through the tippy tips of my toes yet! Maybe I’d be curled up under the covers, mummified into a fetal position, trying to muster enough life force to issue a long, blood-curdling primal scream.
These past months have been a nay-sayer’s haven. A hey-day for the nattering nabobs of negativism. A triumphant march for the I told you so’s. A call to arms for the depressed denizens of Prozac Nation. It’s been the bon fire of the vanities and the sanities. But that doesn’t mean it has to be the bonfire of our humanity.
Believe me, I’m just as much of a consumer addict as the rest of you are….but I’m just not buying into this particular state of mind anymore. I’m calling a time out. Scheduling a day off from doubt. Taking a sabbatical from the selfish hype and marketing slogans of fear. I’m vaccinating myself against all the rampant viral strains of existential angst. I’m declaring a moratorium on all whining, moaning, woe is me-ing, the sky is falling-ing, the bottom is dropping out-ing, the all of us are going to hell in a hand basket-ing and any other extracurricular woulda’, coulda’, shoulda’ –ing that folks are secretly indulging in.
No more naming, blaming and shaming. Those ego-centric, arrogant jerks at GM can’t shoot down my spirit from their private planes. Bernie Madeoff is not going to be the bogey man under my bed or in my closet and make off with my soul in the middle of the night like some insipid succubus. The false profits of the gospel of money = happiness were never really real just as now that that little bit of ungodly-sent wisdom is spent, less money does not = unhappiness.
Quit making celebrities out of crooks. Quit putting your life on hold. Quit using the terms of depreciation and appreciation in such limiting fashion. Don’t depreciate the thousands of everyday experiences that are part of the journey of the mystery of life. Appreciate all the wondrous things that present themselves. That’s what gives them lasting value. (Including homes) Get busy envisioning what you do want in your life rather than talking about what you don’t want. Don’t let the future happen by default.
In homage to my brother Rob (shameless nepotism) I’m going to give you a homework assignment. Read his book “Pronoia is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings.” As the real astrologer he can tell you whether your moon is in the right house. As a real estate agent, I can help you get your ass into a new one if it is truly time. Meanwhile think about sitting on the sunny deck of the advertisement next to this advertorial, breathing in the perfume of wisteria and thinking eminently pleasant good thoughts.