The Haunting (The Art of Creating a Historical English Cottage)

"Does one ever see any ghost that is not oneself?"—Marjorie Bowen

Good day, my dear mermaid hearts,

My darlings, have you ever considered that women grapple with 'letting go', which is why we adore ghost stories?

When I left my ex-mate on an adventure to find myself and live that swelled dream of being an author and artist, not one more day of being stuck would keep me. It was, of course, a difficult decision, but one I was hell or high water going to do, and no one would stop me. It was either that (because my thoughts were increasingly becoming assorted ways of how i may take a passport) or something else that would result in terrible blows. I was absolutely beyond miserable in my marriage for over two decades. I hid it well. I thought anyway.

However, it is not so tricky as now when it has come time for me to reevaluate my unconscious catch-alls. Last summer, I realised that upon moving into my folk's cottage (in 2019 when Sawyer transitioned) and then creating Scarlette Rose Cottage, I had squirrelled away from a scary space of storage an alarming amount of "stuff." I justified that the storing of items is innocuous. Yet, I do know that vibrational energy invariably surrounds and attaches itself to every object in our houses, transforming them into discernible positive and negative memories. When i have felt depressed and struggle to identify the source of my anguish, it is me looking for something I've hidden quite well. I have recognised this trait in myself, and that is when good housekeeping and decluttering occur, only to once again be back at ground zero with piles of more things I've convinced myself I 'needed' from a charity shoppe or boot sale. The ailing of my soul lies just directly beneath the water's surface of my life.

Storage equals Sorrow
Buying Equals Burying

As of late, I've realised that to create my little 'Cottage of Belonging' (regardless of where that ends up being), it is imperative that i get ahold of that harmful self-inflicted philosophy, and so I plan to organise the cottage completely. I become weary and sigh when blundering past so that i can work and be efficient. I spent ridiculous amounts of time and energy on moving this to that room and that to this room. Arrange, put up, take down, box up, then donate, buy more, justify with additional shopping excursions. Do i truly 'need' another Victorian sofa? I currently have three. What about that ninth Victorian chair for my future settee or library? Why? Because storing 'things' and feeling safe are things I had to examine. I justified an entire year (in the process, they destroyed every piece of antique furniture I had) my kitten's blatant desire to want to be outside. I refused to see my issues of abandonment. As long as I could hold onto the control of keeping my kittens inside the cottage with me, there was no abandonment occurring. My kittens represented everyone who has ever left me.

I was, likewise, forcing control. The kittens represented my children. I relegated Molly to psychologically representing Sawyer. I kept close tabs on the other three. When I divorced their father (yes, you read that correctly despite what you've heard, I divorced him), they all were out of the home except for my daughter, and she downright refused to leave Oklahoma as she stated she had spent her life moving and wanted to settle. I couldn't blame her for that either. I do blame her father for his participation in the alienation between me and my children. I am learning forgiveness, though there were times i wanted to scream. She, the Dark Goddess—She, The Destroyer of Worlds, wanted to blow fury across the angry sea and unleash absolutely everything at him, but I will never unfurl anything. Rather, I have learned to allow myself to feel the emotions and then release them into the cosmos, for that is where healing takes place: in the letting go. For that matter, I love myself more than I dislike anyone in this world. My cancer scare is probably the dissonance I once had for my ex-mate and some other folks. The cells are currently stored; however, they are unhurriedly vacating my ovaries.

"Objects have ghostly emanations, too, that attach themselves to their solidity. Things with drawers—chest, armoires, night tables, trunks—seem to be most populated pieces of furniture."—Dominque Browning

I have simplified my life, focusing my time and attention on writing, researching, painting, and living a slow portrayal of Victorian life and learning to embrace my daily musings with happiness and simplicity by following my bliss and Taking Joy. When a person is very contented, there is no need to blast the results to the world. I tend to believe one of the reasons folks share so much on social media is that there is a need to feel validated.

I have been bringing order to nearly every cottage corner in preparation for loads of creating. Again, my dear heart, if you missed my last post, I made a place where you can write to me through the post. I am inspired to keep the notion of the old-fashioned vision alive, a sort of red-letter day.
I look forward to hearing from you.
  
Raquel's Letterbox-in-the-Hedge
P.O. Box 12071
Brooksville, Florida
34603