(Excerpt from original article)
Note: The Theosophical Society in Portland owns its Lodge house, a stately 3-story Victorian, painted in various shades of purple.
Dear Lodge House,
You are our very own, our Victorian wonder, our painted lady, our home away from home! And how beautiful you are! Your jutting bay windows (they need cleaning), your turquoise walls in the first floor meeting room (Is that crack growing? Should the drum circle beat more softly?), your towering three stories plus basement (those narrow, steep steps), your latticed back porch (holes appearing)…
Your beauty, dear Lodge House, inspires us and draws many to your front door….
On the first floor, your somewhat dark and mysterious library looks exactly like a library of esoteric lore should look. Except for that lowered ceiling. That Lodge member, long-gone and long-forgotten, added that so-called modern touch. (Did he ever ask permission before launching that project?) You must have been upset! Yet he put in those colorful cupolas, where we can imagine ourselves rising above the ceiling and on up through the clouds and farther up to who knows where.
Rising upward, yes, as we, your inhabitants, meditate and sing, tell stories, drum, lecture, discuss, play musical instruments, send out healing. But we’re also firmly planted on the ground, welcoming strangers, sending out literature, answering questions, checking out books, making endless pots of coffee and tea, washing up, collating flyers, asking for donations, rearranging furniture.
But don’t worry, O Lodge House, we aren’t becoming disembodied. At least, not any time soon. We’re here for the long term, practical, grounded, dedicated, influencing our larger Portland community. Ever steady, ever going on together.
All of us. And you.