Spirits of the House

The door slammed shut and I sat straight up in bed, the rest of the house at rest, uninterrupted.
I waited for a moment, lingering on the whir of the fan which seemed to have quadrupled. Was I the only one aware of the cacophony of noises battering half-asleep senses? For a minute, I thought about the onomatopoeia lesson I’d been teaching and laughed until I realized the source of it all.
Rain.
Pounding rain.
Pounding through the windows of the bedroom all over computers and carpets.
The house had woken me up just in time.
An hour later, I sat in the dim 6:30 a.m. light—the kind of light that smacks of a day in which twilight is the zenith point.
The thrum of the morning’s chaos lingered in my temples for little more than a moment.
Had I woken up even a few minutes later, we might have lost Ken’s entire computer system.
In older times, people believed that a house came with a spirit that cared for it as its own.
They can strike fear in many and cause all kinds of problems for humans who disregard them. When acknowledged and the occupants of a home demonstrate a respect for their space, they also can serve as thoughtful guardians who attach themselves to one or all members of a household. Known in different cultures as Lutin, Bichura, Matka Gavia, Ông Táo, Bes, Hestia, and many other names, these spirits exist in almost every folklore in the world. I often think of the Susuwatari (soot sprites) from Totoro and Spirited Away and their sweet mischief.
This morning, I am going to sit in the twilight of day and offer a bit of thanks to the spirit of our new home. It would seem we have found one another and I’m grateful they see me as ally and not intruder.
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