The inside was a — different story

August 6, 2009

Okay, I’ll try to remember features of that house that were definitely not usual in my earthly neighborhood. I probably won’t remember them all, or in the same order they were showed to me, but here goes.

Lighting. No lamps, no light fixtures, but plenty of light. Oh, right. The Lamb is the light. Well, he wasn’t in the room, at least not visibly, but the effects certainly were.

Colors. The main entry door from the front of the house led into what I would call the living room. The walls here were muted colors, calming, soothing, relaxing shades of blues and greens. The walls were textured slightly, almost like fabric instead of just paint, and felt really good to the touch. Soft, velvety.

Then as I focused on one wall, it began to change color. The color seemed to slowly flow into a different shade, while I looked at it. Not a totally different color, just a different shade of the same color. When a restful teal (blue-green, like my eyes) shade came into view, which I especially liked, the change stopped. The wall seemed to settle, almost like water on a pond settles after a stone has been skipped across it.

There was a knob on one wall like a dimmer switch. By turning the knob, the entire color palette of that room could be changed. From blue to pink or yellow, for instance. Or green, or orange. Or brown, or purple, or whatever I liked. Now, that was neat.

The furniture? I simply don’t remember much, except that it had some. Chairs, sofas, something.

There was another room adjacent to the living room with only a grand piano in it. No other furniture there, but I liked the idea of the piano.

Next came what I’d call the kitchen, except that it had no appliances that I recognized. No stove, no refrigerator, no microwave, no coffee maker, but a small table, cabinets and shelves with dishes. Okay, no cooking? No food? Yes, food, but it wasn’t cooked the way I cook food, or else it wasn’t in need of cooking. Not sure at that time which it was. I was still observing, not so much asking, but some questions I wasn’t asking were being answered anyway.

Then came the dining room or meeting room, or whatever it was used for.  One long table, lots of chairs both around the table and around the walls, but not much else. Used for visiting friends and relatives, discussing events of the day, things learned, catching up on activities of each other, sharing news and information and meals.

Are there any bedrooms, I asked? And suddenly I was in what could have been a bedroom, except that it didn’t really have a bed, just a chaise longue. Not much sleeping goes on there, just occasional lying down for thinking, meditating and absorbing.

There’s more, much more – later.

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