Retiring early last night, I decided to immerse myself in gratitude as I began to mentally review my spiritual growth of the past twelve months. While pondering many precious memories, my awareness drifted to the fact that a very special event had occurred exactly one year ago, on August 8, right down to the very hour. This particular event was pivotal for me in the midst of a series of synchronicities that led to the sale of my home smack dab in the middle of a very tight real estate market.
Of all possible days, I was laid off on Halloween—October 31, 2007. After spending 29 years as a socially-challenged left-brained computer geek, I walked away with intense feelings of gratitude and love regarding the whole experience. For several years my heart had been preparing me with the awareness that computers were definitely not the focus of my future. I would be lying if I tried to convince you that some fear and panic did not arise in my soul, but the fear was intermittent and very short lived. Being laid off was actually something I desired. For the most part, I was excited. I didn’t know yet how I would survive, but was looking forward to my yet-unknown future with eager anticipation.
Just under two years earlier, I had begun a three and a half year Master’s program in Mental Health Counseling. Having no clue as to where my future might be taking me, I responded to a powerful internal pull that was guiding me through the cocoon stage of a life-changing metamorphosis. While I was still not sure if I would actually pursue a future career as a traditional mental health counselor, I definitely knew that the wings of this emerging butterfly would no longer be flying me through the halls of a software engineering company.
As I said my goodbyes to a very lucrative salary with great benefits, I knew in my heart that this monetarily-secure phase of my life was now over. I used to love software engineering, but my passion for programming had all but disappeared. My inner promptings were very clear, and I knew they would never allow me to turn around or go back.
Yes, I was staring into the thick white cloud of the unknown future with inner peace and confidence that all was exactly as it needed to be. Somehow, I knew that there was absolutely nothing to worry about, even though I knew that my financial world was about to take a 180 degree shift.
Facing considerable obligations of a mortgage, car payment, alimony, utilities, insurance, and every day miscellaneous bills, conventional wisdom screamed out that I should immediately seek out new income in order to maintain my lifestyle. I had a few investments (set aside to pay student loans), and a generous six-month severance package, but was fully aware that those would soon be used up if something did not change.
But no, I ignored conventional wisdom, choosing instead to listen to my heart, to follow its dictates. I began to peacefully use up those financial resources, trusting my heart as it continued to tell me “All is well—just sit back, enjoy the ride, and trust the process.”
Even on the day I was laid off, I knew I would eventually need to sell my home—but a peaceful feeling in my heart said “Not yet … you will know exactly when it is time.” Instead, I followed strong internal promptings that said “Use your first month to repaint the interior of your home … then stay tuned for subsequent guidance.”
In my newly found abundance of free time I began following my passion, which involved two things, working on writing my life story, and pursuing my Masters Degree.
Magically, the work on my life story involved sorting through and organizing piles of old boxes from my grandfather, my aged parents, and from my own childhood. For several years, these belongings had sat sloppily crowded in a corner of my downstairs family room, depressing me each time I passed them by. This intense emotional journey consumed my spare time for the better part of five months.
As I resurrected past memories one by one, I processed and relived many of my earlier life struggles. I was determined to breathe new life into every emotional memory, both painful and happy, exactly as each had actually unfolded. Unwavering in my attempt to genuinely remember emotional details of my life, I frequently unearthed raw emotions that caused me to sob uncontrollably. After allowing myself the time to re-experience the pain, I processed the events through present-day spiritual awareness and insights—bringing closure to that pain—recognizing that I had always done the best I could—I had always been pure and genuine in my intentions. Throughout the whole process, I used the platform of writing as a means to solidify my healing and perceptual shifts.
Soon, I also immersed myself in my 1000 hour clinical internship. For most of a year, I spent an average of 20 to 25 hours per week volunteering my novice therapy skills at a local substance abuse treatment center. Yes, I was totally immersed in moving forward; there was no going back—not even a glance.
When my resources began to diminish, I reluctantly applied for unemployment benefits to which I was entitled. While making an honest effort to do the minimum required to locate a new software engineering job (to qualify for my benefits), I knew in my heart that no such job would materialize—the universe had other plans for me.
Last summer, as the end of June drew near, my internal voices had a new message for me. “Now is the time to make final yard improvements. You will be selling your home soon.”
Immediately I stopped writing and began staining my fence, cleaning out weeds, fixing sprinklers, and trimming trees—along with a myriad of other miscellaneous tasks. Then, I noticed that my backyard play area, supported by eight 4×4 posts, was wobbly and unstable. As I began to work on it, I soon realized that seven of the eight posts were either completely rotted through, or very near to doing so. I tried to dig one post out, but hit large blocks of concrete. “This is going to be a very difficult repair job,” I told myself.
Thinking about how much work was ahead of me, I thought of the easy way out. “I’ll just rip it all out and discard the lumber. The new owners will never need to know that this was even here.”
However, my inner promptings told me otherwise. “This swing-set, slide, and tree-house-like structure will be a big selling point … you need to repair them … start working on it NOW!”
With considerable effort and money that I did not want to spend, I began the tedious process of removing the old concrete blocks and swapping out each post. Two weeks later, after having received much appreciated assistance from my sons and a few friends, I brushed on my final coat of stain. The play area was as good as new—better than it had ever been in the ten years that I had lived in the home.
Just another two weeks later, through another series of amazing little coincidences, I was guided to a highly recommended realtor in my area. Something inside of me knew that “She is the one that I need to help me sell my home.”
We were in the heart of a very difficult market, with home prices crashing as the national economy was spiraling downward. My realtor gave me all of the “gloom and doom” speeches, warning me to not expect too much, preparing me for the possibilities of a long-term listing. I simply smiled and told her “I have a very strong feeling that my home is going to sell very quickly. You are going to be very pleasantly surprised.”
July was in its final days when my property listing first showed up on the internet. Butterflies filled my stomach as I first opened up the website where several photos of my home were proudly displayed. Little doubts tried to hook themselves into my mind as I browsed the site, noticing how many other great homes were listed, some of them being less expensive and looking nicer than mine. I fought back the doubts, constantly reminding myself, “My inner promptings have guided me this far … they will not let me down.”
Responding to another feeling, I called a dear friend, Susan. She and I met through a series of spiritual retreats where we gradually developed a powerful spiritual bond. Susan has spent years studying, teaching, and professionally consulting in Feng Shui. She even hosted a weekly internet radio show for an extended period of time. Her children are young, and we live in different cities, so our paths usually only crossed about once per month. Our’s is one of those cherished friendships where you can go for months between get-togethers, but as soon as you are reunited everything is as if there were never any distance between you.
“Would you be willing to come down and help me do an energy clearing in my house?” I asked Susan, “I would love your help, and will pay your usual fee.”
“Nonsense,” she replied, “for you, I will do it for free. I would love to come down.”
For ten days our schedules kept colliding and, try as we might, we just couldn’t seem to find a time that would work for the two of us. Finally on Friday morning, August 8th, she called me. “I can come by early this afternoon if that works for you.”
After informing me that she was going to create a small alter in my home, Susan asked me to make a few preparations. “Please draw a picture of the people you envision as buying your home.” she began. “Then write a letter—a goodbye letter to your home. Also, gather up a few special items you might wish to place on the alter.”
For the next few hours, while immersed in a meditative state, I imagined a young couple with two children moving into my home. As I contemplated how to draw them, I pictured them playing on the swings in my back yard. I drew a makeshift sketch of the back play area of my yard. I am no artist, so in my creative genius I drew stick-figures of a young mother and father holding hands in front of the swing-set. Then I asked myself “Are the children boys, girls, or one of each?” My intuition caused me to draw two stick figures in the swings—one of a little boy and one of a little girl.
Next, I wrote a moving letter to my home, thanking it for its powerful service and presence in my life. Among other things, I wrote about some of the beautiful family times, the comfort and security, the wonderful neighbors, and the peace it had created in my life. Not wanting to stop there, I wrote another letter—this one being from my home to me. As the words of these two letters found their way onto the paper, they were accompanied by tears of deep gratitude, joy, and peace.
As fate would have it, Susan called in deep apology. “They called a meeting at school. I can’t get out of it. I’m going to try to free up some time later this evening after I get the kids to bed. Would that work for you if I can manage that?”
Later that evening I was ready to give up on Susan’s visit. At 7:00 p.m., I sat down to watch the pre-show for the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, China. The ceremonies were set to begin at 8:08 p.m. on 08/08/2008. The announcer began to discuss the sacred significance of the number 8 in the Buddhist and Chinese cultures. He explained how the symbol has no beginning or end, representing infinity and eternity. He continued to discuss sacred meanings of this number, not only in Buddhism, but in other religions as well.
While daydreaming, not really paying much attention to the explanation, I was startled by the phone. It was Susan. “I can be there in thirty minutes—if that still works for you?”
While she was driving to my home, the awareness hit me. “She will be getting here to do a blessing on my home shortly after 8:00 p.m. on 08/08/2008—this is no coincidence.” I smiled as I realized that “This is another example of the universe playing synchronicity games with me.”
The first words out of Susan’s mouth as she entered the front door were “Do you realize it is 8:00 pm on August 8, 2008?” She had been thinking the same thing as I. We laughed at how the universe had kept us from getting together for almost two weeks—finally bringing us together at this significant moment.
Last night, as I lay in bed at 9:00 p.m., Cozumel time, I realized that it was 8:00 p.m. back in Utah, and that exactly one year to the hour had past since Susan walked into my home at the nexus of that beautiful evening.
And what a beautiful evening it was. First she created a small alter on my coffee table, near the center of the home. After meditating in silence, we each said a small verbal prayer, blessing my home, before continuing.
First, we took care of the mechanical stuff. Methodically she walked me through the house and yard and told me things like “There is too much furniture in this room … move that table downstairs where it is needed.” “You need a red table runner here, red placemats there, flowers in the front yard, and flowers on this counter.” I took detailed notes of her suggestions. Every one of them made great sense and felt right.
Next she brought out a set of Tibetan Tingshaw Bells and a small chime, asking me to choose which one I wanted to use. For 90 minutes, in almost total silence, we slowly walked around every corner of my home, floor to ceiling, repeatedly ringing these bells and chimes, listening to how the tones resonated with the ambient energy. As soon as her senses told her that a room was complete, we moved on to the next one.
As we moved into the corner of my downstairs family room (which was completely empty), she froze in one spot while continuing to ring the Tibetan bells, “Ring … Ring …. Ring … Ring.” She stood there for ten minutes or longer, not moving. Finally, she spoke “Brenda, do you mind if we finish this room later? I simply can’t stay in this part of the room any longer. I’m having an anxiety attack … I’m suffocating in here.”
As we stepped a few feet away into the main area of the living room, she explained that as soon as she stepped into that part of the room she had felt intense emotional pain and stagnation. She said that she felt as if the whole world were closing in on her, feeling strong anxiety, as if she were trapped and stuck. The experience was so intense that she could not continue.
“Wow,” I exclaimed as I told her, “This is the spot where I stored all of my old boxes of stuff from my childhood, from my parents, and grandparents.” I continued to tell her about how anxious, stuck, and trapped I had felt each time I had attempted to sort through all that old stuff. I told her that this was the room where I had done much of my deep emotional processing as I sorted through those old belongings—after I finally found the courage to face them.”
Minutes later, after a short break, we resumed clearing the energy in the remainder of the house. The hour was late, and our minds and hearts were soaring with spiritual energy. Neither of us wanted the evening to end. Finally, well after 11:00 p.m., she backed out of my driveway to return home to her family. Before retiring, as I took one final stroll through each room, I experienced a deep sense of peace and gratitude.
Three days later, by Monday evening, I had finished making all of the recommended changes—rearranging furniture, placemats, and buying flowers for the kitchen. My friend Lori had even donated her day off to come over and help me design and landscape a beautiful layered arrangement of shrubs, plants, and flowers in the front entryway.
Two short days later, on August 13th, the realtor called and told me the home was being shown. Afterward, the only feedback I received was “They loved the house, and especially loved the yard and the play area, but they want a home with a connected master bathroom, which mine does not have—so they are still looking.”
Discouragement tried to settle in as I thought about how few people were stopping by to see my home. In three weeks, only four showings had taken place. As I pondered my situation while driving to my internship, a distinct awareness floated into my consciousness. “It doesn’t matter how many people see your home. It only takes one person to buy the house. You only need the one right person to be attracted to it.”
On Friday, August 23, my realtor called. “The young couple that saw your house 10 days ago wants to see it again tomorrow morning. They want to bring their parents by to see it. This is really positive when someone wants to come back for a second look.”
I tried to stay away from the neighborhood on Saturday morning, but something drew me back, keeping me close. I was sitting in my car across and up the street when they pulled into the driveway. As the young couple climbed out of their little mini-van, a wave of powerful energy surged through my body.
There, standing in my driveway, was a young couple with two babies, perhaps 10 months to one year in age. They were dressed in identical outfits, so I could not discern their gender.
As I sat observing from afar, basking in the powerful energy, a deep sense of knowing flooded my consciousness. “This young couple will be buying my home.”
Then a second powerful thought followed up almost immediately. “They are going to low-ball me on price, and I am going to need to be very generous with them. I need to treat them as if they were my own children.” This latter ‘knowing’ was extremely clear and powerfully rooted in my soul. Somehow, I knew it to be true.
“Wow, that was an interesting prompting.” I told myself. I wonder what that means?”
All weekend I patiently waited, expecting an offer to come in anytime. Finally, on Monday, my phone rang. “They have made an offer,” my realtor started, “but you might not like it. They came in $10,000 lower, plus they want you to pay $6,000 in closing costs on top of that.”
Remembering my strong prompting, I told the realtor “Let’s accept the offer with a slightly higher counter.” I wanted to be generous, but I could not let go of the ego thought that I will need to live off this equity for a few years.
A day later, the young couple countered yet again, with the exact same original offer. They did not budge even a dollar in what they were willing to offer. Shocked, I removed myself into meditation to figure out what to do. I was feeling intense anger. “How dare they do this to me? I need this money to live on. They are not playing by the rules of negotiation! I won’t do this. They have to give me more money. This is not right.”
I stewed in my anger for an hour or two while bitter tears flowed down my cheeks. I gradually began to spiritually re-center myself. I retrieved my pencil sketch of the family that was buying my home, and re-read the letters I had written—both to and from my home. I asked myself, “If this were one of my own children making this offer, would I sell them the house for this price?” Finally, I humbly admitted that my answer was an absolute “Yes, I would sell my house for this price—if it were my children.”
Picking up the phone, I told the realtor “I don’t like this price, but yes, I want to accept the offer. Let’s do this.” Soon, the agreements were all signed and zooming across the telephone wires between two fax machines.
Ignoring my realtor’s advice, I met the buyer’s realtor during the home inspection. Strike one, I needed a new furnace—but the two of us quickly worked it out together. Over a week’s time, I built a great relationship with the realtor. He told me how he had taken this couple to house after house, for over two weeks. “Every time we went to a different home,” he told me, “they asked me to bring them back to your house for another drive-by. Something kept drawing the back here.” Then he added, “And they loved your back yard and the play area.”
Soon, the realtor arranged for me to meet the new buyers face to face. Not wanting to let anything sabotage the sale, I bent over backwards to work with them in a positive, affirming way. Somehow, I knew that my participation in this way was necessary to ensure the smooth completion of the purchase.
“Tell me about your twins,” I asked the young mother when we first met. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that one was a boy and one was a girl. Since she dressed them the same, I had assumed that they were probably both boys. As I told her about my energy clearing on the home, and the pencil sketch I had made, she was fascinated, calling to her husband, “Honey, you have to hear this.”
“Wow, the young couple that is buying my home really does have a little boy and a little girl.” I pondered. My insides were glowing brightly as I reflected back on the powerful events of August 8.
Originally I planned to wait till the papers were signed before I moved my furniture and let go of my prized worldly possessions—but my faithful little voices screamed out, “Nonsense … everything is going to go just fine … make this a relaxed process and empty out the house now … there is no need to wait.”
I turned the ten days before my closing into a “Christmas in September”. My children all took turns walking through my home and letting me know what they would like to inherit. By the time I signed final closing papers on Sept 18, 2008, my worldly belongings had been reduced to my computer, a laptop, a small piano, two bookshelves, a lamp, a chair, a rug, miscellaneous office supplies, clothes, camping supplies, and my two vehicles. In great joy, I had gifted away most everything else to my precious children and grandchildren.
Just days after the papers were signed, the financial news was filled with more stories of how the national economy had taken another stiff downturn. Home prices were again falling uncontrollably, and the market did not appear to have a bottom. I gratefully realized that if I had not been “generous—as I would be with my own children”, I probably would have ended up with much less equity, if I was even able to sell at all.
This next part still plays tricks with my mind. In early September, I was so caught up in the process of getting my home sold, and my belongings divided up, that I was not paying any attention to my personal finances. When it came time for my loan to fund, I suddenly realized just how low my checking account balance was. On the very day that my home equity was transferred into my account I calculated that I would have been overdrawn by $400 had the money not shown up precisely when it did. Yes, I had some money set aside for student loans that I could have tapped into—if I had been watching—but I didn’t need to. I love how my recent life has been filled with these wonderful little coincidences.
As I said goodbye to my home and most of my once-precious belongings, I was amazed at how much freedom and peace permeated the core of my being. I knew that I had just taken a huge leap toward achieving the freedom to follow my heart. Over the years, the possessions that had once brought me peace and comfort had somehow turned into boat anchors, chains that were keeping me trapped. My heart no longer wanted to work at a meaningless job—just so I could afford to pay for stuff, provide a place to keep stuff, maintain stuff, and insure stuff—especially when the stuff no longer seemed important.
As drove away from my home for the final time, the sense of freedom in my soul was unbelievable.
Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved
That was very insightful, thanks for sharing your expiriences. I especially liked how you didnt know at all what was going to happen and trusted in your self and your intuitions / promptings. What a great expirience to keep with you and learn from.