Lost Eras and a Big Space Clear Monday Morning Check-In Post

How Are You??!!

Lost Eras - Exterior

Lost Eras - Just a Small Sampling of the Inside

Since moving in five months ago, it occurred to me more than a few times that we had not yet done a space clear. Over the past couple of weeks, the subject of space clears has come up numerous times with numerous people.

Alright, already!

I can not tell you exactly why I had not yet done this magical thing I always do. Maybe it was because we hadn’t moved in fifteen years, so what was once a common practice had fallen into the archived files in the back of my mind. Maybe it was because we did do a space clear when we first moved into this building twenty-one years ago, and I was clinging to the ridiculous thought that it would still be in place. Maybe it was because I’ve been overwhelmed, disoriented, and tired after unexpectedly moving cross-country with three big dogs after surviving a four-year-long pandemic, the Trump presidency, an attempt at the overthrow of our democracy, the realities of both of my parents’ declines sinking in, and late-stage capitalism.

Truthfully, it’s not any of the above, although those things are all a factor.

The deeper answer would be commitment. Clearing this space of residual energy and bringing it to neutral would also mean this would open the door to making it ours. It would mean no longer having one foot in and one foot out (not that we do, or if we do, I have no idea where our other foot is).

So, Saturday was the day. Let the spellcasting begin!

Jon started before I did because I had something I wanted to do earlier in the day, and I have learned that magic is not worth doing if my heart is not fully in it. Also, this was both a literal and a magical space clear as the dust was piling up. Jon swept me out the door as I headed to the monthly artisan market at Jarvis Square.

After spending a bit of time outside appreciating the gorgeous fall day while wandering around the delightful gathering, twenty or so artists and makers selling their wares in front of the cafes, shops, and restaurants that comprise the square, I headed over to Lost Eras just a few blocks away, reinforcing the day’s theme, bouncing between the energies of the new and the old.

It opened in 1969 as The Sandpiper, a health food and imported gift shop on Howard Street in Rogers Park in a building built in 1924, the one we’re living in was built the year after. The owners’ daughter, Charlotte, bought the business from them in 1975 and created Lost Eras, an antique shop. In 1985 the store grew and began carrying vintage clothing, props, costumes, and many other delights.

After first moving to this neighborhood in 1986, my roommate, Sharyl, and I would head in there, browsing through the abundance of goods, looking for practical things and cool, vintage delights, awed by the enormity of it all. Everyone in Chicago Theatre knows about Lost Eras and has probably gone there more than once in search of a costume or prop piece. Right now the costume section is also bursting with Halloween garb.

I entered the shop and was transported way back in time and concurrently back to my nineteen-year-old self, remembering being enchanted as I stepped into this vintage store for the first time, thirty-eight years ago. It was the first vintage store I had ever been in. My wardrobe then became a mix of contemporary and vintage. That winter the costume designer at Columbia College gifted me on closing night with an epic vintage day dress he’d chosen for me when I was in Street Scene, and I wore that dress to shreds. Years later, during a fundraiser for Asylum Productions, the theatre company I was a part of, another of my favorite vintage dresses split completely down one of its seams while setting up the event. Our costume designer shoved me into the bathroom, sewing kit in hand, and pinned me back into it. I then danced in it all night long.

I immediately recognized Charlotte who was behind the counter. She complimented my necklace while she rang up the $15 red wool coat I’d snagged.

“Thank you, I got it at Healing Earth Resources thirty years ago,” I replied.

“I know those two!” Charlotte said. “How are they?” I was again reminded of how small and intimate this gigantic city can be.

I filled her in on what I knew of Dawn and Michael and she asked me to say “Hello” to Dawn for her. So, Dawn, if you’re reading this, Charlotte from Lost Eras says, “Hello”.

I returned home and started with my office, spray bottle with basil essential oil infused within. (I also made pesto last night. Basil is excellent for clearing, protection, and lifting the vibes). My office is not usually the first room I go to when cleaning my house, it’s usually the last, but it’s where I felt directed to go. As I dusted, swept, and gathered the piles of dog hair from the corners of the room I set my intention that with every physical removal an energetic removal occur as well.

After finishing the surfaces in my office, I lit some incense and moved next door to the bedroom. The moment I sat on the bed to dust the night table, I was suddenly startled by the sound of someone wailing. It was loud, heartbroken, and came from a male-sounding voice. It filled our apartment with despair and anger and returned me to earlier moments in this life.

Worried, I looked outside to see what I could see. Nothing. No one. Just the voice, pleading, cajoling, and begging in sadness and despair with an undercurrent of rage. The source was somewhere nearby but not specifically distinguishable. His was the only voice I heard.

I returned to the bedroom and started sorting through my jewelry, finally unpacking some pieces that had been sitting there for months in little boxes, grabbing the fluorite necklace I had forgotten I had, and slinging it around my neck as fluorite has excellent cleansing properties. The wailing continued.

“Do you hear that?” Jon asked as he came in while I was sorting. “Should we call the police?” he asked.

“He doesn't sound violent,” I said, “just sad”. Jon also looked outside to no avail.

It did not escape us both that we were deep in cleansing mode when this began. We know some of the history of the former inhabitants. If I had to guess, there was a particular person whose energy had left an imprint on the room I was working in. Because the building is 100 years old, I was aware of others contributing to the wailing, others I had no details about.

Flashes of fights that Jon and I had twenty-plus years ago in this building also floated through my head and were echoed back to me via the wailer’s voice. Those fights were dramatic with both of us unleashing years’ worth of unprocessed trauma filled with grief and rage. After a particularly loud one, we heard a knock on our door. Seven-year-old Paul handed me a Ziploc bag with some chocolate inside it and then ran back downstairs without a word. A powerful spell.

The wailing got quieter and quieter the nearer I came to finishing in the bedroom. By the time I moved on to the dining room, it stopped.

While sitting at the dining room table a few hours later I said, “Wow, it’s so quiet in here right now.”

It was quiet on our block, but it was not the physical noise I was referencing, it was the energetic calm in our home. It was like being in the middle of nowhere, everything still, the energy soft and clear. I can still easily tune into this feeling as I sit typing in my office.

We are in the middle of this spell which will continue through Wednesday, before the supermoon is full in Aries on Thursday, October 17th at 6:26am Central Time. We’ll weave other magical actions into it pulling from numerous traditions and using our intuition. There will be more incense along with candles, water, sea salt, crystals, and whatever else comes to mind. Come Thursday morning, our intentions will shift from clearing, releasing, and removing to receiving, creating, celebrating, and other abundant fun.

How are You??!! Please let me know in the comment section below.

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