My neighbour is an angry man. I don't know why he is that way and on a spiritual level I completely accept every possibility that I somehow attracted him into my life. Still, that doesn't explain why he is so intent on raging through life and it doesn't seem very fair on his pour soul.
Since he moved in the year after my heart attack, (when I was still desperately lethargic and ready to cry for sleep) and began a refurbishment that would take two very loud years, he has systematically boxed his house in, by putting up 2 metre fences on all sides, even replacing fence previously owned by his neighbours. Its okay.
Its okay that his poor wife thought my darling hedgehogs were rats. I suppose if she sees something snuffling in a bin bag at night, she's conditioned to make assumptions. God bless her, she must have lived in some rough places. Its okay that he was so outraged on her behalf that he told all of our neighbours that we 'had rats, probably nesting in the front garden bushes' before asking. Its not like the hedgehogs or even the local fox come by, any more, not now he's replaced the fence baseboards with concrete panels and blocked the runs which were there, well, forever. The wildlife was a blessing, reminding me every year how grateful I was to be out of the city.
Its okay, now, that he genuinely thought the idea of warning the neighbours of new building works was a ridiculous idea and that not warning the sick woman was funny and a bit of a win.
So far he's put in his 2m fence so that my kitchen now looks out on that instead of the road. Then he's used sealant and screws to add a foot of angled UPVC to the top. Its okay. It waters my plants. Its okay that he's built a huge shed backing on to our other connecting fence at the back, so close that the roof tips over on this side. Again, it waters my plants. What bugs me is this.
I can't quite believe my eyes. I mean, tell me why would a man in his sixties get on his new shed roof in the middle of a snowy night and chop at the neighbour's bushes? Did he? Did he really? Look at it, its practically a tree, its been there since before we moved in 15 years ago. Its a sticky-up wisteria or something with a w, holding up two different, beautiful and highly scented honeysuckles. Instead of taking off the odd tendril leaning over his side (there were none, his worker removed them when the shed was going up), he's hacked, and I mean hacked half the branches away even though there's no way they were touching the boundary.
I worry for his health on all three levels, physical, mental, spiritual, but I confess to withering a little under the weight of so much animated hatred aimed in my direction. I was working so hard to project peace and goodwill back to him, I was doing my very best to genuinely love his higher self for living such an angry miserable life just to help others grow spiritually. I have grown and changed and strengthened beyond recognition, out of necessity, because of the gift of Ernest Fricker as a neighbour. I was beginning to sense the peace of that instead of the black cloud of fury and territorial feudalism he projects.
My sending love and light doesn't seem to be agreeing with his digestion. I shall try harder.