If the Walls Had Eyes and Ears

"You make him (her, them, us, me) glad with the joy of your presence." 

This is my reiteration of Psalm 21:6.

Hidden among us are individuals and couples, who are simply and surprisingly healers. They create their environments consciously and unconsciously as powerful healing sources in the midst of an urbanized society. One knows immediately if one finds themselves in such a space with those individuals.

Everything is a feast for the senses; sight, hearing, tastes, fragrances, and tactile touch are so miraculously entwined that its effect is to renew and replenish the spirit. So it is with Illa and Michael, two extraordinary beings creating music, magic and harmony in their home and garden. Illa's touch is in her artfully decorated home where every inch of wall, window, and counter space is a shrine to her interests and a celebration of the Colombian culture. With someone else, it might seem like an endless mismatch of collections, but each decorative item fits perfectly into the ambiance, created to stimulate and immerse one into warm colors and images. Signed art, mixes with Bottero sculptures with gifts, antique store finds, and framed commercial art. Using the hues one associates with the Spanish, those vibrant yellows, blues, oranges, and reds is a palette of color against which to display her heritage. It is a visual feast for the eyes.

Plants and flowers thrive in windows and on the rear porch where we all enjoy and share the sunshine and morning coffee. Their garden is a testament to teamwork so it's brimming forth with the pulse of spring. The daffodils have passed, the tulips have emerged, the lilacs are budding and breaking free. We walk around the yard while Illa points out garden beds of recently planted bulbs and vines that creep along the trellises. It is remarkably beautiful afternoon and this is only April. I soak in the positive energy, the sunshine and the intellectual conversational exchange.

For it is in these conversations our true selves are revealed. No subject is taboo nor do we keep secrets from each other. None that I'm aware of, that is! So, if the walls had ears and eyes, what would they hear and see of the times we spend together?

Michael, originating from Galway, is an authentic Irish man in Boston. Is there nothing sweeter to the ears than an Irish brogue? He introduces the love and 'mythology' of his heritage and history into the equation. He leads our theological and political discussions. This time around, the topic is the power of forgiveness and the mess of our heretical church. He brings us home a loaf of fresh bread and a expensive Irish blue cheese that we consume with a passion. Illa searches for a Gregorian chant CD (that she does have) while Michael's prodigious memory and voice dispels the need. "En Gloria Excelsior Dios" (I definitely spelled that Latin incorrectly) It's decided monks chanting is too serious for a Sunday morning. Illa is always the DJ but solicits requests. We settle on a mix of international women musicians and if the walls could see, they'd witness Illa and I dancing, letting in the spirit. Alleluia!

They'd hear our views on politics. We're Obama Democrats who wonder about the rise and implications of the Tea Party and Sara Palin as its cheerleader. Each has an opinion. We just don't get it.

You'd hear about my $400 cosmetic shopping spree at Nordstrom. The one, where two friends thought I'd lost my mind. "You're so bipolar" and we laugh.

We talk about sex. Everyone is for it, even if we're not getting it. (I speak only for myself.)

Then there is the disaster and greed of Wall Street. Michael suggests "bring Elliot Spitzer back and put them all in jail!" Who cares about his (or anyone's) sex life? Obviously, his enemies, the media and a manipulated public. The next morning Spitzer is on a Sunday talk show. The irony does not escape us. Michael always has an instinct of identifying the political pulse.

How is it that 48% of Americans do not pay federal income taxes? Has the gulf between the haves and the have-nots become this disparate? How is it that 25% of corporations in Massachusetts do not pay taxes? Here the answer is obvious. Universities and medical centers. Not-for-profits accumulating wealth and endowments for investors to sell junk bonds to as the middle class shrinks into obscurity.

We speak with reverence about Haiti, for she reminds us of how fortunate we are, no matter what. There is a huge, inescapable difference between poverty and misery.

While Michael works at Solera, Illa makes his favorite bolognese sauce as I keep her company in the kitchen. I learn that it helps to have the right kitchen tools and gadgets when cooking. This is where, of course, we congregate, either in the kitchen or on the porch. As non-smokers, we smoke cigarettes outside, scolding but forgiving ourselves for these momentary lapses in quitting. Is there anything better than choice bottles of wine, some prosciutto, melon, and a host of other delicacies followed by a cigarette? None comes to mind. Everything here in their home is done for the pleasure of the senses.

The cats, Bella and Nikka, amuse us and snuggle up with this guest. Cats are such loving companions. I bemoan the fact that pets are barred from my apartment building. Nikka, the adventurer, scales the next-door neighbors porch in search of a treat. He chases and catches a squirrel much to Illa's dismay. Michael and I laugh because who among us can change what is in our nature?

I leave reluctantly the home they share, but knowing that our days and evenings together are timeless and eternal. The guest quarters have my name on it for future use. Music, food, conversation, love and friendship are healing forces magnetized and magnified whenever we are together.

Remember Love Always Wins!