Starting when I was a little girl about 6 or 7, I loved to rearrange the things in my room. I shared a room with my brother Roger, 4 yrs. younger than me. Hierarchy was the way in my family and being that Roger and I were the youngest, we had to share a room. Boy, girl made no difference. My eldest brother had his own room and then my other 2 older brothers shared a room.
My father made built-in platform beds for Roger and I and the room was divided in half with a large built-in table for our shared desk with bookcases on either side. One for me and one for Roger. My mom painted lovely pictures of “wing-less flower fairies”. These were sweet little girls with human bodies and dresses of flowers. I don’t remember exactly what kinds of flowers they were except for the tulip, daisy and a rose. There were 5 or 6 altogether.
I liked my side of the room neat and orderly with everything in it’s place. Since I couldn’t move my bed, desk or shelves, I moved my stuff. What I remember most is trying to place everything just so. Everything being my dolls, doll clothes and accessories, cooking & tea party items, books, arts & crafts supplies, stuffed animals and of course my pink sewing machine and sewing supplies. Plus those cute little knick-knacks that have no category.
Now you might think I was a little OCD, but no. Stress was not apart of my game. I was going for a feeling. I remember thinking “this feels right” or “this looks right” or not. I struggled having to share the room with my little brother because he could care less where his stuff was. I tried to teach him over the years the art of arranging, but he never got it to my satisfaction, nor cared. When he got older he started collecting cans…ugh! To me our things needed to be useful, have special meaning or be useful. Cans, never.
Finally that special day came when my dad removed the platform bed and I got my first “real” bed. A twin size box-spring and mattress on a bed frame. But best of all, it was on the other side of the room. The side that had been Roger’s. I clearly remember sitting on my new bed looking out the window where I could see the top of the driveway and garage. I felt so special. Then after getting all my stuff moved to my new side of the room, put away, a totally new feeling came over me. I felt powerful. I was a big girl now. It felt grand beyond words.
It wasn’t until many years later when I began to study Feng Shui that I understood where that feeling of power came from. That new bed was in the power position of the room (the back left corner from the door). Now I was in power, not my little brother. For years my bed had been, what’s called in Feng Shui, the “funeral position”. Very, very bad! I now know that all those hours I spent re-arranging my stuff, I was just trying to get the energy, Qi (chi), in my room to flow in a supportive balanced way. After moving to the other side of the room, not only did I feel better, but my reoccurring nightmares stopped.
Whether you call it Qi or just energy – life is all about how it flows. If it flows in a supportive way and also apply an intention, Feng Shui works wonders.