Spiritual troubleshooting

The following concern is from a reader who is having difficulty applying esoteric, spiritual principles to  her real life property dilemma.

The reader is seeking to procure a house, to live in for herself and her family. Her current property - a rental - while quaint and serves it's purpose, curiously does not contain a single cupboard or storage facility of any kind - something that has seemingly irked the reader for some time. She has been searching for over two years high and low, with no avail. 

She purchased a land with a derelict home approximately a year ago, with the hopes of demolishing and building anew. For reasons that are unclear to the writer, the parcel of land was sold recently, for a handsome profit. Yet the fact remains, although now financially somewhat endowed, the reader remains without her desired home and without cupboard. 

A place where I once lived

A man is dead with only an Opal card on his person to identify him. Not a single person can identify him, although his opal card shows that he was most likely a resident of Sydney’s inner-west suburb of Campsie. The autopsy shows that he suffered from multiple myeloma, an aggressive cancer leaving him in significant, if not unbearable pain. There is not a neighbour, friend or family member who has ever seen or is aware of the existence of this person.

The story is not only distressing for the fact this person must have endured constant excruciating physical pain during the last stages of his life – although horrible in itself. What is more concerning, what I simply cannot fathom, is how isolated this person would have been during the final chapter of his life and how one could be so utterly alone in an Australian suburb like Campsie.

I moved to Campsie two years ago, having finally saved a sufficient amount for a home deposit. The two bedroom unit is old and dated but the building itself is solid despite the ominous deep cracks on the concrete balcony floor, and the wooden window sill panelling on the verge of complete annihilation. My downstairs neighbour has a NRL Bulldogs poster in lieu of curtains. It is perfect. In terms of location, I did not choose Campsie. Instead, the confluence of circumstance, the Sydney property market and a road trip gone awry led me here (One wrong turn off while returning from the city to my parent’s home in the Northern suburbs resulted in the Nav Man leading me through this strange land overflowing with Asian eateries and groceries, and bursting with people - so many people! ) “What is this place?” I exclaimed with astonishment as I slowly drove through the main artery of the bustling, multicultural suburb. It was Campsie.