#16: Mop Water

Mop your own floors. The minute after the day is done. Sink the head into that astringent bath, spin off the access, and break a sweat. Scrub clean the life that dried onto your wooden floorboards. Start again with the sun. That’s it! The memory of bringing of sharing and receiving imprints–timeless.

The after quiet is the cherry on top. I tend to dim the lights at those particular moments as the water dries. I like to feel the space’s heavy breath slow with my own. It and you worked hard to impress those travelers. Sadly, not all of them catch on or feel what it is you are offering, but the majority enter under the threshold expecting to be shifted.

You can always tell the difference by those first energies. I never say “impressions” because surface flesh is a minute part of it all. First energy is whatever is cradled underneath. It seeps from pores, fidgets, ticks, clarity of speech, willingness to take a breath between sentences, and (my favorite) to smile with full teeth. There are plenty who try their best to mask what they can, but inevitably a good host (energy receiver) can coax even the toughest lid. Once open, there you have truth, a sequence of spells.

As a host, it’s important to distribute questions in real time and truly listen. Then you can buff whatever needs a little shine, but only with subconscious permission of course. Reading the room, reading your visitors heat, striking their fancy, and leaving something to desired, is truly a dance. But, it’s also about mopping. You’ve spent an evening splitting open everything you can from those you sink your teeth in. Then you spill it all out into the silent, salt-filled crevices and wash it clean. Take nothing home. Lock the door.