Today marks the day that I have lived in my home for 23 glorious years. it was only about 10 years ago when I discovered paganism that I realised this anniversary fell upon Lammas. The move date wasn't organised because of the date, but rather life unfolded naturally and it just so happened that we moved into this home at Lammas.
I have had some of the best times of my life here in this house, and I've also had some of the downright most awful times here in my life. Right now, the house's energy is rebuilding itself after being abused by workmen - You know when you feel like your house just ain't happy? Well, our house ain't happy with the damage done by the workmen! No amount of smudging and singing bowl banging has helped, instead filling it with laughter and hopefulness has had to build up good vibes over the past few years.
The best times I've had here include the time when I received my "Pass" letter that told me I had passed my accountancy exams - I still remember that day now! I've also begun studying at University here in this house, I recall how and where I studied for that first ever module. It's also the house that I used to exercise in when I was younger and had a passion for aerobic videos (Rosemary Conley, Lizzie Webb, Shape Challenge, and so many more!), It's also the house where I used to dance late at night with my father whilst my mother watched us, laughing and smiling! It's the house that my baby Magick (cat) came to live with me in, the house where I thought I'd killed him by lying on him in bed when he was a baby - he was hiding under the bed, I couldn't see him. It's the house that I stood in my bedroom reading the newspaper that featured my first ever published in print article. It's the house that I studied to be a life coach in, and it's the house that I now run my life coaching online consultations and motivations from.
The bad times here, have been exactly that - downright bloody awful. Like the time that I was waking up on a Sunday Morning to the phone ringing and my Mum answering. From my bedroom I heard her call my Dad from the bathroom and he spoke on the phone before bursting into tears on my bed telling me that my aunty Doris had passed away after having another stroke. It's the house that was getting ready to celebrate the beginning of the Millenium, when at 8:30pm, literally less that 4 hours to seeing in the new year and the millennium, my beloved cat, Tinkerbelle, passed away, ripping out the entire families hearts. We went to bed by 10pm that night. No new year celebrations. It's also the house that I stood in when I watched my Dad leave the house for a hospital appointment 9 years ago and I stood by the front door watching him get in a cab with my Mum, and I said to my cat, Pepsie, I'm never going to see him again - 3 months later, he passed away in hospital from Cancer, I hadn't seen him since the day he left for the appointment as he deteriorated so rapidly and badly, it would have been too traumatic for me. It's the house that I was rushed to hospital from at 7 years old with food poisoning that almost killed me.
It's the house that has been my home. It's the house that keeps me safe, that contains all my childhood memories, the house that comforted me when I was recovering from the abusive relationship. It's my house that keeps me warm and dry, the house that is my sanctuary when I want to shut the world out, it's the house that I dream my dreams, hope to achieve my goals, plan for my future. It's my home that gave me the childhood that I am so thankful for having, the fun, the laughs, the birth of dreams.
It's my home. It's my childhood. It's who I am. It's a part of me.