My home is not Downton Abbey...

Highclere Castle that became Downton Abbey in the mega-hit TV series.

An old friend is coming to town, so it would be lovely to host him, his wife and their dog in our home; however, this cannot be. There is no room in this inn for such hosting. Back in our younger days, the nook in the unfinished basement served us and our guests very well; internationally renowned yoga teachers, my mother, long-time friends — they all slept well, safe and sound on our “lower level”. But these days, that nook is deconstructed and the mattress that our last (and final) guests slept on (on the floor) is no more. 

I grew up in modest homes, almost always sharing a bedroom with either my older sister or my younger brother. When I had my own room, I appreciated it for the space it was and the space it gave me. As an adult, I have lived in only one house that was big enough to have a spare room that could easily host a guest. This current house is not that. So, I have to be content with being a no-overnight guest house, and I have to remind myself that the bigger the house, the more there is to clean and upkeep under that larger roof. 

Maybe this is why I am intrigued by the “tiny houses” that I spend inordinate amounts of time touring online. Some are less than 300 square feet and have ingenious built-in storage spaces and charming sleeping lofts. Some are made bigger with a front deck or back porch — very appealing (in warmer climes). Some are delightful, while others are claustrophobia-inducing with all the things stuffed into a small space. 

What is it we used to say in the 1970s? Small is beautiful. Right. But ‘small’ requires restraint and discipline and minimalism. Not everything fits — or can fit — into ‘small’. When we live small (or, maybe, smaller), we must learn to live well even while living with less: less stuff, less room, fewer options when it comes to hosting or entertaining. 

In writing, constraint sparks imagination and creativity: Write a mini memoir in just 100 words. Tell a story with only two characters in it — who don’t know each other. Craft an essay in the shape of a 4-step set of instructions. The constraint pushes the creative muscle to achieve results it didn’t know it could within such limits. 

In living, constraint encourages the decluttering of things — and of the mind. Less time spent wanting and desiring what cannot be (12 or 14 around the table; adult guests and pets staying overnight; group meetings with a place for each committee member to sit; etc.), and more time accepting that ‘hosting’ can be done as satisfyingly around a restaurant table, hotel bar or at a community centre as it can in one’s own home. This is a learning more easily written about than actively lived — because wouldn't it be lovely to host dinner around a big table in a luscious open-plan kitchen and go to bed under the same roof, to rise the next morning for coffee and more good conversation around that same table? Yes, it would, but I push myself continuously to be the student of the sound philosophy of less, small, constraint. 

And later this month, I will welcome the visit with my friend around a table yet to be determined.

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.

Photo by Tim Alex on Unsplash