A Pool of Betrayal
Feng Shui is an ancient art, a subtle force that governs the harmony of our lives through invisible lines of energy and numbers. Some scoff at its power, but I’ve long learned that doubting Feng Shui is like doubting the wind—you may not see it, but you certainly feel its effects. And sometimes, those effects are nothing short of astonishing.
I was invited to one of South Africa’s most popular talk shows, hosted by none other than Jenny Crwys-Williams on Radio 702. As the conversation began, we dove into the essence of Feng Shui, explaining how it is grounded in over 6,000 formulas that reveal how buildings and environments affect the lives of those who dwell within them. The sceptics were out in full force, of course, many of them unaware of just how intricately the ancient art intertwines with their daily lives.
Then came a call that changed the tone of the entire show.
A woman, her voice curious yet hesitant, described her home to me. “I’m standing at my front door,” she said, “looking out. There’s a pool on the right-hand side. What do you think, is it in a good position?”
The words had barely left her lips when the numbers, the patterns, began weaving together in my mind. Feng Shui is more than just a set of rules—it’s a language. And her home, with its pool in that exact spot, was speaking loud and clear.
Without hesitation, I responded: “Has your husband run away with his secretary?”
There was a sharp intake of breath. Silence crackled over the line for a moment, followed by a nervous laugh. “How could you possibly know that?” she stammered, the disbelief in her voice palpable. The listeners must have been on the edge of their seats, but for me, the answer was simple: Feng Shui reveals all.
In that brief exchange, the truth was laid bare. Numbers, directions, and energy flows are not just abstract concepts—they are the hidden keys to the story of our lives.
The pool in question? In Feng Shui, when a body of water sits in the wrong place, it can stir up betrayal, particularly in relationships. The numbers aligned, and the energy spoke through me, unravelling the tangled secrets of her life with startling precision. What may have seemed like a mere coincidence to the casual observer was, in fact, the meticulous work of unseen forces.
For the sceptics listening, it was a revelation. Feng Shui is not a parlour trick, nor a superstition—it is a science of energy, of balance, of numbers. And to those who question its authenticity, I offer this warning: If you challenge Feng Shui, be sure your life holds no secrets. The numbers know more than you might want them to.