by Carrie Classon
My space is smaller than usual these days.
When my husband, Peter, and I bought a condo and moved to the city, Peter said we needed a little more room.
“I want two bathrooms!” Peter said. I’d never had two bathrooms in my home as an adult, but I was certainly fine with the idea in principle. Peter wanted a study where, in the mornings, he could do what he calls his “brooding.” This is when Peter comes up with his finest ideas, I believe, although I can’t confirm this because it is also the time of day when he prefers to be left alone to drink his coffee.
I also have a little office where I write. It has two doors which I keep wide open, because I like to know what both Peter and my cat, Felix, are up to.
But when we got back from Mexico this past spring, our bedroom was flooded, and it has taken this long to get a contractor to begin work. So, two days ago, we moved our bed into my office.
Peter thought we’d move into his den, but he already has a hide-a-bed sofa, and he rolls his bike in there to put it away and, of course, there is the morning brooding to work around. So I thought it would be easier if we just moved the bed into my office. I measured the old bed that Peter had inherited from his parents and determined I had 4 inches to spare between the footboard and the back of my office chair.
It has not been terrible, all in all.
Felix thinks that lounging in bed right behind me while I type is a great place to be. While I used to have a morning commute to work that was more than 20 feet, I have now reduced it to less than a foot, which naturally saves some time.
But more importantly, it’s given me a new look at my house. I now wake looking up at the art that usually hangs over my reading chair. There are masks collected from around the world hanging on the wall, and looking at them from the underside in the morning sun is a new experience. The morning light is now coming in from the side, but the moonlight is more direct.
And it all reminds me of other rooms and smaller places I have lived in the past. It reminds me of being in my childhood bedroom, where I also had a desk and a bed in close proximity. It reminds me of when, at 50, I packed everything into the back of a pickup truck and went to grad school. I lived in a converted garage with hardwood floors and had a very similar setup — with a private bath and a desk, a chair, a dog, a cat and a bed, all in one room. It was everything I needed.
That’s how I feel now. I have everything I need within easy reach.
And I wonder, as I lie in this small room, if at the end of my life I’ll again end up with everything I own in one small room. As I was thinking about it yesterday, it didn’t seem like it would be so terrible to be permanently downsized to the point where all my possessions were within easy reach.
I started out with a smaller life. My life will probably end up smaller again. So right now, for a little while in between, I am enjoying having everything I need within easy reach.
Till next time,
Carrie
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