The House - The Home

If I were you, I would not live in this house, sprawling across a landscape populated with worn-out memories. Let others take charge of it, so your hands are free to open the nearest door and you can walk in any direction you choose because all of them will be a-w-a-y. And don't look back! I'm not aware of anything as severe as the punishment of Lot's wife - What's her name? The woman turned into salt... But you don't want that last sight of your ancestral house haunting your memory. It's bad enough you call it a home. Dispel things in the heart the way you dump old furniture and ragged clothes. Start by recalling all its flaws, the hardships it caused you, the times it failed you, when relatives looked askance, or quietly laughed behind their gloved hands. Remember it as derelict, dilapidated, doomed. You will liberated in due time. When you count your blessings, it will not appear. When you recall your beloved father, he will be standing in a grove evergreens in the north country. When you see your dear mother, she will be quietly napping on a cushioned bench outdoors. Such false memories will eventually reconcile you to your fate. In a decade or two, there will be just a mist in your memory, an occasional hollowness in your heart but no more weight of the past. Better that absence than a persistent hope which connects to nothing. I can teach how to create artificial memories which will create a real happiness within. After all, what is more important: the truth of your existence, or an everyday happiness?