Ganesh Baba used to say that. Such a delightful aphorism – so full of broad and deep meaning.
To me, it means wherever you are is exactly the right place for you to be. The central secret is at your center. The treasure is buried in your own garden.
We didn’t move. Tom and I are still living in the same house, and working at the same business, Mama Ganache. The house, in my mind all ready to be someone else’s, wanted to be ours a little longer. Everything seemed to be in place, and I’d done all kinds of symbolic, metaphoric, ritual, and inner work around letting go—I even led the session called “Letting Go” in a Year-to-Live class I co-teach—but the fates had it that we’re here, at home again.
It’s a fortunate thing, although fraught with difficulties and very hard work. This house is filled with light and beauty. And now it’s clean and repaired! What a gift!
During the weeks the house was on the market and the first few after, I was tired and depressed and sick. Not all at once. Yeah, all at once.
Still, underneath all that physical, biological and psychological stress, I managed to retain a small, frequently imperceptible, sense that everything was going to be alright. It’s true I was wearing my little ceramic disk that says THIS TOO SHALL PASS, which always helps, but it was the way life itself unfolded that gave me the message most profoundly.
The very moment Tom and I decided that we would stay here, a text arrived from a friend, who had another friend, who was in need of a furnished room or two. Our new housemate moved in an hour later. Best housemate we’ve ever had. It would have been enough.
Events had almost inevitably been turns for the worse over the weeks before that. Things broke down, big things, the water heater, the sewage pump, the washer, all within a short time. The toilet overflowed and needed to be replaced when Airbnb guests were here. Everything took forever and cost too much. Then, in a flash, a helpful, upbeat, mature, and kind housemate moves in.
A week later, Mama Ganache lost both of its weekday shop employees at the same time, and it became clear to me that I should step back into the business. So here I am, Mama Ganache again.
I spent the last month on a new website: mama-ganache.com. I set up a chocolate club and free delivery service to hospitals and nursing homes. Tom and I are hosting two weekly events at the shop, a tea on Sundays, and a conversation on Thursday afternoons. We’re hosting two parties a month, Art after Dark on first Fridays, and the chocolate club pick-up party on second Fridays. I’ve been crazy busy.
In the middle of all that, Eva came on Thursday last week. She and I already have a long relationship with hummingbirds, so I knew the hummingbird who flew into the living room just before Luana dropped her off, had some message for me.
It was another rufous hummingbird, West Coast parallel to the ruby-throated hummingbird. It was trying frantically to fly out of the window above the dog’s bed. Lily Bear thought it was very exciting indeed, but she backed off when I asked her to. Almost immediately the bird fell, stunned, onto the window sill. When I tried to lift it up gently, it awoke and dashed into the upper corner of the window again. In my hand were three tiny hummingbird feathers.
As I stared at them, astonished, the bird fell again, very nearly into my open hands. This time I could lift it and carry it outdoors. I put it in a flower box and went to get a succulent leaf to make a sun shield for it.
When I came back with the leaf, the hummingbird looked at me with one eye and took off, circling around once and then landing high in the oak tree.
The feathers must have slid out of my hand when I put the bird in the flower box.
I picked them up and put them in a special box. Hummingbird feathers, so tiny, so exquisite. Extraordinary.
These are hard times. The large, slow-moving astrological configuration (Uranus/Pluto) that’s been putting so many obstacles, small and large, in my path, will affect us all in one way or another. But surely something bigger is afoot, or, perhaps I should say, in the air.
8 thoughts on “Om is Home”
Our neighborhood is glad you decided to stay yet a bit longer. And, my chocolate fix continues. Our housewarming gift of chocolates we bought from you was a big hit. Better than a bottle of wine or bouquet of flowers.
Thank so much, Jeff!
I am so glad that you are still in your beautiful house. Don’t even consider moving until absolutely the right place comes along. You will know when it does!
We are such a home-loving species that moving is a truly traumatic event. But although (very) hard, it can be life-changing in the sense of growth, too. Esther and I are still getting used to our new apartment, but in general we think it good for our time of life.
Hope to see you again soon!
Thanks so much, John!
Such a lovely post. So glad you’re keeping the house– at least for now.
I am so glad you and Tom did not leave your wonderful house. You both are agift to SLO and I miss you. I wish you all the happiness and good health and hope to see you when I am next in SLO. Lots of Love, Lynne
Thanks, and yes, please, Lynne!
I met you once at Liz and Don’s house. I have a longstanding love affair with hummingbirds, even going to Ecuador to see about 30 different species. I have held these little jewels in my hand after they flew, stunned, into glass doors; fed them sugar water from straws whne they flew into my house and needed liquids, and watched my favorite one fall dead from a branch from which it was singing when the neighbor’s ancient car belched toxic exhaust that enveloped it one sad afternoon. I had to shoot one dead after it had flown into a window and dislocated it s beak so it could no longer drink, and saved several of them by holding them in my cupped hands as they recovered and awoke from some trauma induced by fast flight into solid object. I ahve seen the smallest in the world (bumble bee hummer). mexico and the largest, and have many fotos of them from Costa Rica. They are the gems of the avian world, and always a wonder to watch!