The door slammed shut and I sat straight up in bed, the rest of the house uninterrupted. At peace.
I waited for a moment, lingering on the whir of the fan. Half asleep, the cacophony of noise appeared to growing louder. Then the onomatopoeia lesson I’d just taught came to mind . . .
Laughing out loud, I realized the source of all that noise was rain.
Pounding rain.
It was inside. Entering through the bedroom windows — all over computers and carpets.
The house had woken me just in time. Had it been a few minutes later, we could have lost Ken’s entire computer system!
An hour later, I sat in dim 6:30 a.m. light — the kind of light in which twilight is the zenith point. The thrum of the chaos lingered in my temples for little more than a moment. I got lost in thought.
Not every house spirit is mischievous
Some people believe homes, especially older ones, come with a spirit that cares for it. Such house spirits can strike fear in the hearts and minds of many, and cause all sorts of problems when ignored. But, when acknowledged and respected, they can serve as thoughtful guardians — often attached to a member of the household.
Known in different cultures as Lutin, Bichura, Matka Gavia, Ông Táo, Bes, Hestia, and many other names, they exist in almost every folklore around the world. I often think of the Susuwatari (Sootsprites) from My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away, and their sweet mischief.
As I sat in the twilight, I offered thanks to the spirit of our new home. It would seem we’ve found one another.
I’m grateful to be seen as an ally, not an intruder.