OverFlow: Let's Get Ready to Ramble (About Old Houses and Bad Feng Shui)
A certain spot can seem warm, inviting, cozy—perfect—even though to everyone else it feels ordinary. I have some of those: underneath a desk, inside an empty bathtub, a corner of a mostly empty room.
OverFlow is what happens when I overthink, overflow, and over-everything. When my feelings have nowhere to go, I write about them.
Are there particular places that feel special to you, for no logical reason at all?
A certain spot can seem warm, inviting, cozy—perfect—even though to everyone else it feels ordinary. I have some of those: underneath a desk, inside an empty bathtub, a corner of a mostly empty room. When I was young, I would create tents out of threadbare cotton top sheets and hide out there.
“Special” isn’t always comfortable, though. What if you come across a place that just feels different? Like it’s brimming with energy. Like it’s intentionally deflecting—or absorbing—everything around it. Like it should be more important than most people think it is. Hmmm.
Of Ghosts From Manila Crossing Oceans to Chain Smoke in Our Hallway
While perusing my brother’s newly minted blog, The Ghosts of Manila, I came across this passage:
“. . . I can still smell the smoke of his favorite cigarettes, every now and then. Usually, I smell it in the place in our house where six doors face each other. It stays there, a lingering memory, sometimes for the whole night.”
He is, of course, talking about our father. Grief is a family sport these days, but writing has always been how we’ve communicated best.
Two things stand out here: “I can still smell the smoke of his favorite cigarettes” and “the place in our house where six doors face each other.”
Why Do I Smell Cigarettes When No One Is Around?
Since my father died he hasn’t haunted me once, but he has spoken to me over the phone in a dream. And ever since we moved to this new apartment, I’ve been smelling his cigarettes—or, as my mind allows me to process it, I occasionally remember the distinct and mild scent of his cheap Winston Lights.
Because the previous tenant was a heavy smoker, I chalked this up to lingering odors stuck to the carpet and vent filters. Once or twice, I joking said to myself, “This is it!” Hoping for an honest-to-goodness ghost sighting comes with such weird baggage.
Is it a selfish wish because a haunting means a soul hasn’t “crossed over” yet? Is it escapism to hope for what’s never been scientifically proven beyond a doubt?
That my brother experiences a similar type of “haunting” is significant, but still not enough for the skeptic in me—even though I am a what-if witch.
What Do You Mean, “Where Six Doors Face Each Other”?
This one stopped me in my tracks.
In the house where I grew up, there is a spot where six doorways meet. With all doors open from this vantage point, you could do a slow 360° turn and see into the kitchen, the living room, my grandmother’s room, my parents’ room, my brother’s room, and the main bathroom. It was a well-trodden area that was always a little dark, dingy, and drafty.
Family folklore believes the odd non-hallway confuses spirits and other supernatural beings, so much so that they either avoid passing through it or get stuck—in the open area, the bathroom, or my brother’s room. The latter two are the only rooms that have a single door. I’d love to say it’s bullshit, but I’ve felt and heard too many things to be a complete non-believer.
Now for the punchline. Remember when I said I stopped in my tracks? As I was reading that passage from my brother’s blog, I was walking from my home office to the nearby bathroom. I looked up and around, and I realized something for the first time.
The apartment we live in also has a spot where six doorways meet. At that very moment, I was standing right on it! I could turn and face my home office, the storage closet, our bedroom, the main area, and our front door.
Here’s what knocked the wind out of me: This is where I smell my father’s Winston Lights. Not when I’m working at the office or sitting at the dining table, or washing dishes in the kitchen. It’s always when I’m moving through the hallway connecting the main area and the bedroom, often on the way to bed.
I’m still processing this information. How could I not have noticed the six-door spot sooner?
Of Feng Shui and Why It’s Not For Me (I Think)
I know more than a little bit about feng shui due to multiple freelance assignments and a seemingly unquenchable thirst for (mostly useless) stock knowledge.
To have two doors facing each other is considered bad feng shui—something about energy rushing in and out too quickly. When paired with a long and narrow hallway, the luck turns even worse, because this configuration also encourages stagnant energy.
To have one of the doors lead to the bathroom and have that area be near or at the center of your home? The energy drain would be so bad that you might as well just move—or do some radical interior designing to redirect and rebalance.
Both six-door spots I’ve been privileged to call parts of my home fit the above description. Perhaps there’s something to the idea of encouraging harmony and flow of energy around and between humans and their environment. It certainly would explain the draft I always feel in these places and the assertion that they’re mini Bermuda Triangles for spirits.
However, I don’t think I’ve suffered from worse luck than others because of living in houses with bad feng shui. If anything, these areas that are supposed to be bad luck feel oddly peaceful—like I can lose track of time and space when I sit or stand still enough. I wonder what that means.
An Offering of Thanks During This Trying Time
Oof. Okay. I don’t mean to be apologetic. That’s something I’ve been trying hard to turn around. Instead of saying “sorry, I did this,” I’m trying to go with “thank you for bearing with me.”
B̶U̶T̶.̶ ̶S̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶r̶a̶m̶b̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶o̶k̶a̶y̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶!̶ Thank you to this tiny little group of letter receivers that believe in me enough to let me into their respective worlds via email inbox.
Please let me know what you’d like to read about! I’m having the time of my life right now, honestly, but I’d hate to be the only one enjoying the party.
Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash
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