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SHEDDING LIGHT 20 years ago on October 2, I began my home ownership experiment. It was a crazy reckless decision- I was 29, without savings, on a modest salary and didn't really know the woman with whom I bought the overpriced house at a mortgage rate of 12.5%- solo purchasing in the inflated '89 real estate market was impossible for me. A couple of months after moving in, I accurately predicted my housemates' marriage to and pregnancy with a man she had only one previous date and who had just reentered her life. 3 years later, she decided to move on from our co-ownership due to her marriage and birth of her daughter while living her new life overseas. Rather than lose everything, I bravely chose to follow good advise and keep my house alone. I doubled my debt load during a real estate market crash when interest rates dropped dramatically. I was afraid beyond belief. I had no idea how I was going to manage. It's been an ongoing unfolding, a richly textured miraculous journey since that day. Keeping my home these last 2 decades has taught me well. About resourcefulness, patience, frugality, courage, hope, commitment; It has taught me more about Trust; About risk taking beyond comprehension. It made me savvy in the ways of interest rate negotiations. And not least I continue to experience first hand the fundamental importance of self-expression. My home became my canvas, and spilled into the new frontier of gardening.
For most of those years, I've longed for a new shed. The original metal shed, in the last decade of rusting deterioration, became both an eye sore and dysfunctional. The tarp I put on it last winter eroded, failing to keep the contents dry despite my effort. My bicycle rusted that much more and my frustration grew along with the accumulation of outdoor furniture requiring winter shelter. My wonderful neighbours, my friends who in their recent backyard renovation projects put in beautiful pine sheds, inspired me to dream of and aspire to a lovely, aesthetically pleasing practical solution for outdoor storage. Last New Year I promised myself that this would finally be the year I'd manage to afford my new shed- and fix my cracked ugly driveway. But with the unsettled economic climate, business got interesting and I found I had a lot of extra time on my hands. Not only were those dreams shelved, I wondered how I was going to manage. Unscheduled time was weighed down with guilt of inactivity in the face of more unstructured space than scheduled work. Slowly I considered that perhaps this shift might be a gift in disguise. I also recognized that my immediate needs of food, shelter and transportation were completely covered for the moment and the month. I started the process to stop resisting what was. Perhaps the Universe was conspiring to support me in another way.
Time was used to attend to the household tasks neglected over the years of my mother's illness; The past years were a tightrope walk between meeting my mother's needs and the demands of self-employment. However this summer there was room to rest, reflect, and write in my journal; time to garden, weed, transplant and then sit for hours enjoying it all; I cleaned out closets, cupboards and drawers, vacuumed dusty corners, creating a sense of reassuring, healing order in my environment. I was able to spontaneously visit with friends, entertain, shop, talk on the phone, visit with my father. I cycled the natural pathways of the city after 6 years of avoidance. Time to simply Be, here and now. A wealth of leisure hours most people in the world can only dream of, an abundance of unobligated time was at my disposal and there was nothing to do to change it. I determined I might as well enjoy it. This lifestyle of plentiful opportunity to enjoy unstructured days was in fact the model I had originally conceived of and designed for my vision of my entrepreneurial life as a retreat/workshop facilitator and traveling therapist. Rich rewards streamed into my new stillness. A chubby Robin took periodic baths in the stone sculpture my cats use as a drinking water basin. He'd hop over, perch, then jump in, dunk his beak first, then his head, quickly checking for safety. He'd hop around and lower his tail, then his body, ruffling feathers as water rolled away. Humming birds darted from blossom to blossom. Dragon fly hovered looking for a place to land. A black and white woodpecker explored my pear tree as I sat beneath it in wonder. Butterflies, bees, sparrows, finches, squirrels and insects all showed me their busy habits in my yard. Colourful Windcatchers twirled silently, clouds passed overhead, the sun dappled its warmth all around. Wave followed wave of gratitude for my Home Sweet Home. In addition to catching up on living my life, slowly, naturally I started to separate from my sense of obligation to Aziza and focus on my life as a whole. My identity expanded beyond the unrelenting preoccupation with all aspects of running my company. I re entered my life, re engaged with the care taking of my home and gardens and explored appropriate self-care. This season delivered an unexpected and timely gift of creating true balance.
With all the excessive snow and rain of this year, water found it's way to periodically pool in my basement. One theory was that my cracked driveway could be the cause and I started to brace myself for the cost of re paving, even though it had been on my new year wish list. However I never felt right about scheduling the repair or committing to the expense even when pavers where conveniently in the neighbourhood offering a reasonable price. My hesitation got my attention, so I decided to delay till I felt more at ease about going forward. With news of my mechanic's strong recommendation for replacement tires for my 4 1/2 year old car, my Vet's urging for dental surgery for my cat, the driveway repaving required to dry my house out, I started to panic. " I don't know how I'm going to manage." was going round in my head. I dropped into an emotionally familiar place, the old paradigm developed during my first decade of shaky home ownership that imagined scarcity and generated fear of the unknown. While on retreat in Bali last winter, a wise wonderful Hindu Shaman instructed me to pray for help when I was sad. Recalling this advise in my moment of despair, I opened myself up to receive help from the Heavens, and then deciphered the answer within the phrase I was stuck repeating. I don't know how I'm going to manage. This transformed the sentence into a statement of fact rather than a lament. This subtle shift instantly caught my attention and I understood that just because right now I I don't know how- it doesn't mean I won't manage in the end. Immediate relief entered my body in remembrance that my needs are always met one way or another. Finally I was able to relax and allow myself to accept the gift of a summer of time and space.
As a result of the water in my basement, I thought to call my insurance company to see if I could get my carpet replaced. The adjuster arranged an inspector to investigate and establish the water source. I was blessed with confident man who reassured me that my driveway was just fine, not the source of water seepage, and pointed to a broken brick that he believed was the cause of my soggy broadloom. A $5 fix! He suggested that driveway cracks could be filled and the surface resealed inexpensively. After freeing up obligated funds designated for a new driveway, I irrationally, spontaneously decided there was opportunity now to re delegate to a new shed instead. My excitement was irrepressible. I thought about the stain and shingle colour, the size, the positioning in the yard, what I'd put in it, how I'd organize, the flowers I'd plant around it, how everything inside it would be DRY. I was lucky enough to have the consultant come to my house to help me problem solve, and because of that discussion I started to plan new landscaping. 350 square feet of my yard was to be reinvented to allow the best use of the space.
Back breaking and urgent gardening followed, digging up heavily rooted trees and shrubs, bamboo, clematis, trimming back overgrowth that should have been pruned years ago. My Craig's List ad for a free shed for scrap metal was answered in time and the old eyesore was removed 2 days before the new shed was installed. The Toronto city garbage strike required patience about my garden waste which grew and grew as I hacked away the old growth- 5 large bins, 10+ bags, countless roped stacks of branches. Every week I strained to see if the trucks were coming to remove it from my sidewalk and one day a month later they came. The jungle was gone and chaos with it. Oh the relief! The NorthSheds truck arrived with my eucalypts stained, solid pine custom prebuilt shed frames the day before the garden waste was removed. It was expertly assembled by two young men who had already installed 200 buildings that season which reassured my leap of faith was in good hands.They enthusiastically consumed chocolate cookies, fresh strawberry flavoured water and pizza I provided as they worked. Less than 3 short hours later, my dream materialized. This shed is an enchanting, simple structure that suits my space perfectly, completes my backyard in a way that feels like it's always been there, always belonged. In the days following after I replanted the trees, moved around my sculptures, added mulch, planted ferns, I felt like I had a little cottage in a wooded corner. Every morning I sat and breathed in the beauty of the new landscape, healing me with its lovely expression of my vision reflected back. My Star Magnolia sits in front between the windows, anchoring it to the space with its twin trunk. My pleasure is immeasurable and grows each day along with the freshly pruned, transplanted shrubs reestablishing roots in the earth.
There was a dark day late August when I questioned my decision to schedule the installation, a day I began to doubt my impulsive leap to choose to afford this expense in the middle of an unusual business season. I heard a clear judgment in my head: "You should not be so irresponsible!- get another tarp for the rusty roof, endure the metal shed until business and the economy improve" .As soon as I considered a "NO "about having the shed, my emotions sank. I felt terrible and spiraled into discouragement. My body always lets me know when my thoughts are 'for' or 'against' my best interests. It was only when I allowed myself to debate and challenge the 'NO', to reconsider a way to have the shed, that I noticed my body and emotions immediately came up for air with relief. I instantly reunited with my original exuberance! That's when I knew that this decision to go forward with the shed was the right one for me, even if it seemed irrational and financially questionable. Even if I didn't yet know how I would manage it. Calm, peace, relief and pure joy at the "YES!" I dared consider was my answer to the debate. My body knew what was right for me. I followed that knowing with trust.
Each morning since then, as I drink my tea and gaze upon this creation, I understand that this little room has given me so much more in value with the improved quality of life than the dollar figure it cost. It's quite mysterious. As with previous renovations I understood the many negative feelings unconsciously simmering about the old broken structure. This leap of faith released me from my shame around the shabby old shed. The new lighter landscape left so much room to breathe. The following week similar negative feelings fell away with the repair and revival of my broken driveway. As with the new front porch decision made 4 years earlier, I realized these broken neglected parts of my house weighed heavily on my spirit. The repair utilized a problem solving approach that embraced and incorporated my aesthetic preferences in addition to the practical application. My self-expression led back to and aligned me with my artistic soul.
During the leisurely summer I found a garage sale treasure in a small garden plaque which quotes John Heywood, "Nothing is impossible to a willing heart". I've had lots of time to look at it. One thing's for sure, I have a willing heart. Everything is possible. Pretty much everything improved after allowing this shed into my reality. We commemorated the first anniversary of my mother's passing on September 2, the week before it was installed. It was an occasion that invited forward motion. I had many celebrations of my 49th birthday. My attendance at an international creativity conference was delightfully fun and my workshop presentation there was a professional success, resulting in an invitation to present at the first Melbourne conference in 2011. Referrals started to come in along with registrations for autumn retreats. 20 neighbours joined me in the first half of my 20th anniversary of home ownership celebrations. Another followed with my friends and family. Cross promotion of healing programs with other group leaders is growing. Clients are increasingly moved to share encouraging feedback as they integrate our collaboration of healing insight into their lives. The Globe and Mail interviewed me about my Couples retreats for a Relationship column. A cornucopia of evidence supporting extraordinary possibilities landed within the month of September. Life is good. It's so important to remember that my needs are somehow always met. Just relax into the unfolding.
Written by Aziza Healing Adventures founder, Laila Ghattas October 2, 2009
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