Feng Shui for Those Without A Compass

Enter the dragon, but stay hidden behind the beige love-seat until ready to pounce, pointing a claw, and laughing hysterically.

I’ve lived in a few lovely cities over the past twenty years: Seattle, Sherman Oaks, Culver City, Malibu. Whenever I move in to a new place, the first thing I intend to create is harmony. A welcoming environment in a large house, apartment or room brings a sense of peace and relief from the rat race. A dear friend of mine once referred to my home as ‘the cozone’, stating it was always cozy, and visitors felt at ease. Warmed my heart to hear that. Much as the fireplace once did on Queen Anne.

I can attribute my success with living environments to three things:
- owning a strong intuition,
- being a conscious Virgo,
- and Feng Shui.

The first of those – intuition – has taken years to hone through trial and error. I was born a Virgo, though only hold to astrology as one might the weather channel, i.e. do I need an umbrella today or should I wear sunscreen. As for Feng Shui, I’ve frequently applied key concepts, never wholeheartedly, and only by lifting a few bits from a book here or a website there.

Today, I thought I’d really give it a solid go.

Feng Shui is pronounced a number of ways, but the one I’ve heard most often spoken is fawng shway, with a little breath between the sh and way.

Four thousand years before Jesus, heaven and earth met in the right layout, orientation, and coloring of a dynastic living room. Logically, countless variations on these themes have since arisen, but the primary focus on which all seem to agree is harmony. Letting the yin and yang / feminine and masculine energies of a place move into a state of balance allows inhabitants of a dwelling or office optimum functionality in life, with little interference.

Should you wish to conduct a search online, try ‘Feng Shui Master’. At last glance, over 139 million of them have web pages. And that’s just in the United States.

Feng Shui has many forms. Pop, classical, and country top the list. Also popular are the eight house and flying star traditions, and those who rely on a compass. Feng Shui often features geomancy – divination by lines, figures and geography. And if the master is really worth his oolong, he’ll have an intuition sharp as his dadao to complete the perfect layout.

With millenia behind it, most of the hard work is already done in Feng Shui, so all a newcomer need do is follow a few simple instructions to apply the key elements to her own abode. This is most swiftly done with a clear bagua: a chart showing directions, colors and materials and how they are best placed in any particular environment.

A Bagua - the chart used for Feng Shui

Well, I’ve a solid background in compass reading, as well as with water and wind – the literal meaning of feng and shui - so I confidently grabbed the bagua and commenced plotting.

I am temporarily living in a relative’s spare one bedroom apartment. It’s had very little use, vacant for several months, and ideal for my purposes at this time. Furnished minimally, with bare walls, it screamed for plants and artwork, color, and life. I may be travelling, however, I could easily get creative with what’s on hand, what I brought with me, or what I’ve accrued from friends or in shops along the way. And wouldn’t it be nice to have everything feeling cozy, with the energy flowing freely and good healthy vibes in abundance?

The first snag I hit was not being able to print out the bagua. I found hundreds in Google images, and the masters say one needs to work with the bagua in hand. Well, I’d just have to keep the browser open and refer to the drawing as needed.

Second glitch I encountered when I realized I’d left my compass on a boat I’d last sailed in Puget Sound. Darn! What to do but rethink recently observed celestial body motion. The sun sets to the right of the front door, it rises from the left, therefore west and east a given, south must be straight ahead.

Assured of the cardinal directions, I had only to begin working my way around the bagua’s nine areas. That’s when I grew slightly concerned because the bagua is square shaped and this apartment is long and narrow. Should I stretch the Health and Family box? Or reduce Fame and Reputation? I lit a few candles and shuffled some things around, adding pinks and reds to the front right corner, some green near the hall doorway, a cluster of willow branches for the wood element behind my desk, a crystal bowl of water in the living room. I dug around and found a piece of shiny gold costume jewelry and hung it on the front door. I shut the bathroom door, already knowing one is supposed to leave the lid down. Draped a silky scarf by some feathers, put everything blue in the back, to the right. Coins and shells and a pretty picture and I was nearly done. I’ll pick up some lighter color towels tomorrow, and borrow a table fountain from a friend who has an extra. Get a couple small, fast-growing plants for outside the door, and I’ll be all set.

My final challenge arose when I could no longer deny the center of the bagua, the center of the home, the place of key importance where a bright yellow would join everything together and fulfill every goal I sought was in this case located in the large hall closet, cut off by folding doors, and backed by the water heater. This is also the one and only place to easily store the upright vacuum cleaner. Should I throw some yellow fabric over it? Do I leave the doors open? Put a bowl of lemons on the top shelf? I’d already been at my Feng Shui cures for three hours, and wanted to finish so I could sit back and bask in all the sweet Chi.

Standing in the closet between my boots and sandals, hand weights, boxes and clothes, I knew I’d have to call a Feng Shui master. Having to hide my yellow felt terribly wrong. Perhaps I could return to that first online search, and consult someone right away. Maybe if I could just paint the front door red? Wouldn’t that solve everything? Actually, I think that’s verboten – every door on every apartment of every building in this neighborhood is hunter green.

When I sat back down at the computer, and looked at the bagua again, a little window popped up with details on proper orientation of the bagua to an environment.

Holding the bagua, the bottom of it should line up with the front door.

Uh oh.

Let me recheck that.

The lower center edge of the bagua should be the front of the dwelling.

Repeat… the front of the dwelling.

Not the back.

The apartment faces south.

I had the bagua set up so that south – the top of the chart – was the front door.

That is totally backwards.
As in upside down.

As in everything I’d spent the last several hours working on with such TLC needs to be reversed, flipped, turned over.

Dang.

Maybe I should have baked brownies. Maybe I can still paint the door red. Maybe if I weren’t a Virgo, these things wouldn’t seem so important. Methodical completion is a strong suit, right?

I never thought I’d have to track down the owner of that sailboat back in Seattle to ask him to return my pretty yellow compass.

But

I must. . .

© Debra J. Rigas and Jellyfish Clouds, 2010