The Money Corner

When Mike and I moved into our little home in Portland we were stunned to discover a garden house in our backyard. We had rented the house sight unseen and the landlord hadn’t mentioned it. It serves no purpose now; its roof leaks and some of the wood surrounding it is giving way. I can’t store garden tools in it and it’s completely impractical as a studio for my art.

Yet it’s beautiful. It’s original builder put a lot of thought and effort into it, designing it in a handsome mid-century style. More recently the little wooden house had been carefully painted in blue and green; colors I ascribe to Portland and inspiration for my new oil painting palette. Surrounded by camellia trees and very old, tall hedges, it sits perfectly in the far left corner of the yard. This corner is the money corner in Feng Sui. The house represents our money. So what, I wondered does it represent?

It’s art in its purest sense; symbolic of just being. It stands serenely in the corner of the yard as the elements increasingly win against it’s rotting boards. In that respect it is in motion, yet it doesn’t protest. I’ve always loved the beauty of ruins, and now I have my own to witness. I see it as proud and elegant, nonetheless.

Inside the house appears to be mostly empty. A table built into the wall has become concave. Upon it were half empty bottles of lighter fluid and other debris that I removed to allow the wood to eventually give of it’s own dignity. On the side of the wall next to this warped table hangs a metal candleholder; precarious since a lit candle would be impractical near the rotting wood above where the lighter fluid stood. I don’t remove it for the time being. It belongs here.

Against another wall is old wallpaper and a wooden block print—oddly homey amidst the otherwise uncared for inners and dirty concrete floor. Beneath these are rotting old-fashioned wooden fan trellises that once must have had a useful life training the many rose bushes that still bloom in the garden. On the floor are two decaying trashcans filled with debris including a watering jug that also outlived its usefulness. In the center of the room hangs a light bulb on an old chord. Dangerously, it appears that the leaky outwardly picturesque house maintains an unprotected electrical outlet.

In the far left corner of the house is a room. It is the only room in the house; a square form jutting into the rectangular space. Oddly the door was bolted shut. I told Mike we had to find out what was in it. After all this was the farthest left corner of the property…the most powerful aspect of our money corner. Sally, the landlord and I joked about finding a pot of gold or a dead body there. She had no idea what may have occupied the room either. Although we both knew a little old lady had owned the house prior to her since 1924.

I convinced Mike to be the man and unscrew the hinge that held the bolt. Perhaps he was intrigued with my speculations or my insistence that this corner held answers to our, or my, money questions. Maybe he had just had enough of my talking about it. Either way, he decided on his own to work on releasing the door one day while I was gardening. Together we opened the door. Cobwebs framed the entire doorframe and what do you suppose we found?

Floor to ceiling black plastic garbage bags filled with mostly plastic and paper debris. My money corner was exposed to be full of trash.

Being one who gives a lot of credence to symbols, I was horrified. I’ve been taking one bag a week out with the trash, which is all that will fit. Last week, however, my progress was stifled.

I walked the little stone path to the garden house and opened the main door. The door is decaying away from its frame, but it’s still cute, painted blue with a green doorknob. I then entered the back room with the intent of removing a couple of trash bags. As I lifted one I discovered a huge, gray, sleeping opossum. I gasped, threw the bag back and ran out the door, bumping my forehead and eye on the old hanging bare light bulb. I became immediately concerned that I could have blinded myself. So I stood out in the yard in an empowering stance with one arm down to the earth and the other to the sky , radiated light from my core and smiled. I felt immediately better.

According to my animal spirit guide book, when an opossum shows up it means that you’re going to have to stretch yourself farther than you thought to achieve what you want to. It also suggests taking Tai Chi, which I’ve begun.

I love the little garden house. It is sublime beauty. Like the house, art is my focus. I produce my art without fear of money, connected to unseen Spirit, surrounded by life, choosing color and form and words, being alive, and experiencing serenity and even loss of time. It is subtle and wonderful. It is wealth and abundance and shelter from the cold. Although my money corner is filled with trash, it is a temporary home to an opossum. This, I think, is good. Even old refuse has a purpose for sacred, beautiful life.