I am so lucky to have been introduced to an all around, wonderful woman. I feel this way because she is honest, and friendly, and wise, and funny, and smart. And she’s willing to share all she’s learned along her path in life, with me. She is a reflexologist, but she refers to herself as a “dialoguer.”
When you climb up the stairs to her front porch, you walk through a blue streamer, smack in the middle, with several plastic strands hanging. It’s the coolest thing. You have to walk through it to get to the door. Once inside her home, the scent of calming incense strikes you immediately. Sometimes her husband is sitting in the parlor in his overstuffed chair, feet up on the hassock, reading whatever he’s chosen for the day. There’s a beautiful tapestry couch from Italy that looks like it’s from a different period of time .I always take a few minutes to talk with him and savor the sound of a voice from India. All words spoken in a soft, tranquil voice. He is very tall, with long dark hair in a pony tail, a slender face, and deep dark eyes. I always enjoy our chats and I believe he does, too.
Their home cries out, “There is no empty corner, or a shelf with room to spare”, but, in no way does it feel cluttered. It is inspiring, with all the different trinkets and plants and paintings. Hanging tapestries and bells waiting to be rung. Incense burners and different colored candles and little boxes that open, but hold nothing. And I’d guess there may be two thousand books that also inhabit their home. A world of knowledge, of all types of philosophies and opinions. A mirage of words stemming from Edgar Cayce to The Fairy Princess. Edgar Allan Poe, to DVD’s of the whole series of Seinfeld!
As soon as I walk through the door, I can feel the warmth. My body releases the stresses, and leaves them at the door. The energy is undeniably serene. Serene because of the quiet, and the heat, and the good vibrations. I wish I had time to look at every object of art. Every painting. Bright and uplifting, painted by this wonderful woman herself. Every knicknack. Elephants from India, soapstone art, and Buddhas of different shapes and sizes. Every wind chime or mobile. From all over the world. I wish I had the conviction to read every one of those books. I’m telling you, the library borrows from this woman.
