I’m enervated and enthusiastic as I return home after meeting with some of my writing besties for lunch. Ah, the stories we share!

Smiling, I park in the garage, gather my purse and lunch leftovers, and open the door into my home, ready for a hot cuppa tea. 

But then I stop as if an anchor is placed on my ankles. Something is wrong, or at least not right. I feel a subtle shift in the house. Yes, a shift.

Occasionally, I get this sensation; after all, a house is not a static object. It’s full of wood and plaster and beams and then walls and ceilings that absorb all the inhabitants’ moods and pains and joys and … I suppose some may think I’m weird. But living space is alive with energetic cells released by each of us. Continue reading →