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The Spiral Path
June 18, 2008by Jeffrey Pierce
As quickly as our relationship came together, Bri and I found ourselves in need of a place to live. I was sharing an apartment with a friend, her kids, and another roommate and Bri was sharing a two bedroom condo with her mom. Trying to cram our combined six person family into either space would have been challenging to say the very least.
Bri found a possible solution on Craig's List - a run down rental home built in 1924. The crumbling chimney had been torn down beneath the roof line and stuffed with old carpet fragments in the name of insulation. The yard (according to the neighbors) hadn't seen anything but the bare minimum of maintenance in more than a decade and massive rusting metal objects (apparently from someone's fascination with trains and railroads) were scattered throughout the yard and flowerbeds.
Spirals painted by a previous tenant down the hallway of our rental home.
And yet, we both immediately knew it was home. It simply had that feel to it. Not forever, but until everything else is aligned and falls into place. There was a room that, with a little love and a lot of elbow grease, turned into the perfect office for shamanic guidance and creative work. The kids had plenty of room to run and play, including a full basement and a fenced backyard. And there were spirals painted down the hallway from a previous tenant.
Within days, we knew all of our neighbors by name. People came up and introduced themselves and commended us on moving in. "The house feels happy again," the old woman from across the street commented. "It hasn't felt that way for a very long time."
And we're pretty happy too.