The difference between ‘was’ and ‘used to be’ is that ‘used to be’ holds a profound sense of loss. What was is not always different or completely gone, but simply exists in the past. What used to be is no longer. It’s trapped in the lingering shadows of nostalgia that are just out of sight. My home is the same as it always was, but it will never be what it used to be.  

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When embracing the practice of Feng Shui in the creation of your 

not-so-perfect-but-often-livable living space, you must first understand the basic theory and principles. Feng Shui is a Chinese concept that focuses on bringing harmony between the person and the space they occupy. From the Chinese words ‘feng’, which means wind, and ‘shui’, meaning water, Feng Shui aims to create balance and flow. How it is incorporated, the reasoning, and steps taken will help you harness all the positive energy you need. 

 

I'm not new to change. I know who used to be the president, that the names for Five Below and Dollar Tree used to mean something but are now just reminders of the beauties we used to have, and I know that my schools used to be much closer to home. All across Northeast Ohio, I saw them showcasing the brand new ‘Five and Beyond’ section—those huge sparkly rectangles hanging in the back corners of the brightly lit store. I felt betrayed because how can they be called Five and Below if there is also Five and Beyond? I saw that the price tags in the Dollar Store changed from $1.00 to $1.25 before the tax that’s applied at the register. And although I don’t remember the first one, I have been alive for the changing of 5 presidential terms (though this list only amounts to three different people). I was there each time my school got further from home. It started one house down, less than a five-minute walk from my front porch, then just ten minutes away in Oakwood (my first time getting to ride the bus like all my friends), and later 15 minutes in middle school. Then the big change came when my school was a solid 30 minutes away on the freeway each morning, all the way to the West side, and high school came with a 35-minute journey to the city, then 8 hours and 30 minutes all the way from Bedford, Ohio, to Amherst, Massachusetts. My furthest drive yet. I became accustomed to all that turned to “used to be” because my constant was at home, where it had always been. Practically since I was born, it was the one thing that never really changed.  

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The silence that consumes me as I sit in the 8x10 box I must live in away from home feels like a desolate, pitch-black desert. Only the sound of the most familiar voices or the footsteps that give off their identity from miles away can fill the void. But there's nothing but doors slamming and unknown faces. No impromptu karaoke with siblings in the dead of night while the rest of the neighborhood sleeps or an old dog snoring peacefully in the sun, just a silent null that drones on in my head. My thoughts are the only thing filling the place up. On its own, it’s mute and empty. What waits outside is the overwhelming scent of unfamiliarity that lingers long past its welcomed stay and quiet noises that are amplified by the intense silence.  

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The harmony between person and environment is created by arranging pieces in a way that will harness energy forces. Arguably, one of the most important components of Feng Shui is Chi, which is all about creating balance in the space. Too much clutter in a small space does not allow Chi to move, leaving one feeling dull and stagnant. A large space with little in it will make one feel lost due to an overwhelmed Chi. To achieve the perfect Feng Shui, you must make changes to your space.​

 

I’m not new to change, but I never realized that things wouldn’t be the way they used to be. Who could’ve warned me that there would be jokes I’m not a part of and that I’d eventually miss the things I never even appreciated, to begin with? Like the grocery stores I went to with my parents, and how I had each aisle memorized like the back of my hand. I know change, but I never thought I’d miss the way the sun used to shine through those specific tree branches just perfectly into the living room, filling the whole space and spilling over every surface. I never knew that I’d miss the way the fridge sounds at night when the house is silent, as it makes ice in a repeating cycle. Filling a tray, letting it freeze, dumping the frozen cubes into a compartment, then emptying into the cup of a thirsty nighttime wanderer. When I left home, no one told me that things would change. 

 

The light that floods in through the windows of my 8x10 box hits my face each morning. Like a natural alarm clock, it awakens my mind and starts the repeating cycle all over again. Those rays can only reach so far. Their millions of little hands can’t touch every surface, but they try. As they creep into the corners, onto my shelves, deteriorating my books and leaving their spines lighter than before. That light echoes off each surface, refracting and breaking into pieces as it escapes through the crack under my door. All just before getting lost in the never-ending hall of strange faces in this big, unknown place. 

 

If the person incorporating Feng Shui into their life has a whole house of rooms, they can’t do them all at the same time一this is where the Bagua Map comes in. It is a literal chart overlaid on top of a house's floor plan. The chart has nine sections that determine what life circumstance the room it is over represents. After the house is mapped out, one should only choose one to three things in life that need the most attention. One may only have one space to worry about that encompasses all of life's circumstances. Additionally, in Feng Shui, putting the items in one's space is just as important as the number of items in the space. As one works through the sections of their Bagua Map, they will feel changes in their life begin to form, and things will be different. 

 

I’ve seen change before. I watched as the walls in my house filled with the colorful memories of my family there getting older each day. I heard each creak in the floorboards grow louder with time. My home has seen many tears and kitchen spills. It's a home that has seen people come and go over the years, but gives room for all those who choose to stay. The home with scratched wooden floors from chairs pushed and pulled across the room, and tiles cracked from the constant dance parties. A little house with staples left over from the carpet that once lay all over. I'm not new to change, but no one warned me that the functional mess I called home would change while I was gone. No one told me that my Chi would feel lost and overwhelmed in the only place it ever had a perfect fit. 

 

Each scent is trapped within the four walls of my 8x10 box. The smell of smoke wafting in from the people filling the patio suffocates me and stains my lungs. My boots, wet from the rain, lie in a corner, and I can taste the walk across campus一a piece of each puddle and twig stuck in the detailed grooves of the sole. A foreign scent takes me by surprise at each reentrance. Unpleasant in its unfamiliar grasp that holds onto me and follows me out.

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The final principle of Feng Shui is to understand the five elements: earth, metal, water, wood, and fire. You should add more energy to those spaces and create complete harmony by adding in the other corresponding elements, such as shape and color. In order to make Feng Shui work, you have to balance all of the elements. This balancing looks different for everyone and can take many forms depending on the person. Sometimes, balance just means having enough sunlight to drown out the sorrows. 

 

I’ve seen change before, I watched as my room slowly disappeared in front of my eyes. I saw all the pieces of myself packed into boxes to be taken out of my home. I know change, but no one told me that the Feng Shui of my home couldn’t be replicated somewhere else. I never knew that the dissonance of our unique harmony could never be artificially made, and I would have to figure out how to make a new space feel like home. 

 

My 8x10 box tastes like a new recipe that’s been passed down from generation to generation. The original Post-it note is browning and folding on the edges. Each crease is a new scar given by the person before. Outdated and worn out, but ready to be used with a personal twang added to its essence. It tastes like new dreams and old memories left behind. It sits on my tongue and leaves a sweet aftertaste that I must spit out.  

 

Feng Shui does not travel well. I cannot pick up what was there and bring it with me. Without all the pieces needed to feed my chi and a map that has housed every life circumstance I need to work on in one place, everything has lost its balance, and the perfect harmony I thought I knew has become something I used to know. I’ve seen change, and I’ve tried to make it happen, but I’ve found that no matter how hard I try, the perfectly flawed Feng Shui of my home can’t fit into the 8x10 box I’m trapped in. I’m not new to change, but I [redacted] the ways things used to be.