I purchased my first Feng Shui book when I was 18.
I was utterly enthralled by the idea that I could use two candles to make my relationship better, plants to help my health, and use colors to help me manifest different goals.
I dove deep into the teachings for weeks. I researched the various schools; Traditional or Classical Feng Shui, Intuitive or Modern School of Feng Shui, and Black Sect Tantric Buddhism School (BTB).
I understood that one was not better than another; they just each provided different ways to work with the energy and intention. I eventually chose BTB Feng Shui, which stands for Black Sect Tantric Buddhism. It was developed in the United States in the mid-80s by the Chinese Grandmaster Professor Thomas Lin Yun. What drew me to it was the ease of using this beautiful little grid called the Bagua Map. Knowing north from the south hasn’t come naturally to me, so while the thought of using a compass in my home overwhelmed me, superimposing a map over a floorplan lit me up!
I remember leaving for college and using the Bagua Map to design and set up my first bedroom away from my childhood home. I paid attention to the colors in my spaces, created the perfect duvet cover for my new bed with Feng Shui appropriate colors, made sure my furniture was placed as shown in the book, and did all I could to check all the Feng Shui boxes!
To my pleasant surprise, I always had good results, and my homes felt great! I can say now, I knew just enough to be dangerous.
Fast forward a few years, I found myself going through a divorce, diagnosed with PCOS and autoimmune, and was digging deep into an old abuse story.
I worked in a high-stress, high pay job, was the unhappiest I remember being, and my body and life reflected that.
Nothing was working—medicine, doctor’s visits, acupuncture, therapy.
Feng Shui had always worked to give my life a little boost, but it wasn’t working this time. I knew if it had been, I would be sleeping better, have less anxiety, and my body wouldn’t be in pain and holding on to weight. So I hired an expert and had a Feng Shui practitioner come into my home.
She was delightful, full of ideas, a little bossy, and while I had a lot of hope, I also didn’t want to do all of what she was suggesting. She wanted me to add curtains I didn’t want to add (I didn’t want to block sunlight) and discard my whole bed set up from my newly broken marriage, including my beautiful, crisp, creamy white sheets.
I knew I could do a better job keeping the toilet cover down, I was happy to add the crystals she was selling and eventually the curtains, but all of the comforts of my delicious bed, including my Tempurpedic mattress and luxury sheets, weren’t up for discussion.
I was a hell no and a hard pass on that one. And she was frustrated with me.
“Feng Shui works best when you aren’t trying to cherry-pick your fixes. You will get out of this what you choose to put into it. If you aren’t going to listen to me, why did you hire me?”
She continued by asking me to put a little more trust in the process.
I spent several days pondering why I hired her. I hired her because it wasn’t working this time. I hired her because my body was not healing. I hired her because I wanted her to tell me other options that I could do to feel better.
I remember the day the switch flipped for me. My acupuncturist was expressing some confusion about why I wasn’t healing. While she had wished I had more progress, she asked me to give it more time. I found myself lying on the table, under a warm blanket, with what felt like a thousand needles in my body. I was ruminating on this Feng Shui practioner’s advice, feeling the fluffy blanket over my body, and as nutty as it may sound, I was trying to sense if I could “feel” the color of the blanket.
When the acupuncturist came back to the room, I asked if there was a reason or intention behind the color of her chosen blankets. I explained how the Feng Shui practitioner wanted to take away the comforts of my bed, and my white sheets. While my acupuncturist didn’t study Feng Shui, she had mentioned the thought made sense to her, and it was worth considering.
That conversation prompted me to know more. I needed to understand why. I sent an email immediately and got a pretty quick response.
It sounds like you are considering the advice, which I am happy to hear for your healing. White sheets have long been used to cover dead bodies. Need I say more?”
I thought, need you say more?! NO! But lady, if you would have told me that from the get-go, I would have been all in.
I tossed them that night and implemented her other suggested remedies that weekend. I didn’t understand all that would be involved in my healing journey then, but looking back, I can confidently say that kickstarted a whole new level of healing for me. Seeing the power behind that change was the initial spark that moved me into becoming a Feng Shui practioner myself, and I began training under the brilliant Professor Edgar Sun.
Now I beg my Feng Shui clients to reconsider white sheets.
Everything in our lives has a purpose and reason. Energy builds around the intention of that purpose. Think of it like this; if something has long been intended to be used for a specific reason, energy follows that intention.
Here are some of the intentions and energy around white sheets.
If this appeals to you, and you are like me and benefit from knowing why—I am happy to share the following eight intentions that have intensified around the use of white sheets:
1. Illness: They are traditionally used in most hospitals to promote and prove cleanliness, which also places them around ill energy.
2. Death: Much of the world uses them to cover dead bodies/dead energy. White linen burial shrouds have been used to wrap and bind the dead for hundreds of years.
3. Lack: When people couldn’t afford a coffin for a deceased loved one, a white sheet would be used as a burial shroud.
4. Shame: Public shaming using white sheets was a common punishment in colonial Virginia for sexual transgressions.
5. Coming and Going, In and Out: While hotels use them to influence the perception of cleanliness, with an intent to increase a guest’s confidence and promote luxury, many people are coming and going in these sheets, which goes against the intention of creating a bedroom and sleeping space that promotes vitality, health, long-term nurturing, and deep rest.
6. Mimicry: In the 1500s, ghost impersonators adopted the white sheets.
7. Theft: In the 1800s, crooks and robbers used white sheets to disguise themselves.
8. Trickery: In the 1900s, psychics and mediums became more popular, and “ghost sightings” began popping up. A man by the name of Edouard Isidore Buguet served a year in prison after admitting that his photographs, featuring transparent white ghosts, were pre-exposed films and sheets over people.
Everything likes to be used as it was intended to be used. The above is not good nor bad. It’s information anyone can choose to consider or not, regarding the intention and purpose of white sheets.
Being highly sensitive to my surroundings, I am thankful I considered this. From my perspective, it wasn’t a coincidence that my body experienced all of these things (illness, transformation, lack, shame, in and out energy, mimicry, theft, trickery). When I enhanced my space via Feng Shui and swapped my crisp white sheets for skin-toned color sheets, it changed me. I am confident it can for others too!
Read 20 comments and reply