Architecture for Us - Stories - What Does A Place For “Mindfulness” Want To Be? (Part 2)
Continues from Part 1
What does “a place for mindfulness” want to be? Allow me to share some of the points on my list along with my reasoning behind their inclusion. I’ll bet that as you compare our lists you will find some overlap. Sure, the language may vary and our reasoning may be somewhat different, but in the end you will probably find our lists to be surprisingly similar. In no particular order, a place for mindfulness wants;
A direct connection between interior and exterior. City, country, suburb… it doesn’t matter. We are all creatures of nature and it is unnatural to be hermetically sealed inside a building. It deprives us of something implanted in us long, long ago.
I’ve been in city homes that have terrific connections to the exterior. Perhaps it’s a roof deck on the top of a triple decker. Maybe its a high-rise apartment or condo unit with its own small exterior deck. Sometimes there is a pair of large windows that can swing inside with a protective guardrail on the exterior.
I’ve also been in country homes that lacked any real connection to the exterior. What a shame. Windows that have been painted shut. Intentionally inoperable windows. Dense heavy drapes (Why? Heavens, your home is in the country. Who are you hiding from?) I’ve seen similarly closed homes in the suburbs, though window treatments can make sense in many too-closely packed developments.
What to do? It is so easy to have French doors or large glass sliders that completely open the interior and exterior to one another. Mosquitoes or other nasties? Add a screen when appropriate. In smaller spaces I’m a huge fan of casement windows which open completely to the outside, leaving no visual obstructions. While a slider doesn’t open completely, it still provides a connection. Finally, there are traditional double hung windows.
A connection between interior and exterior will enhance our space for mindfulness.
Inclusion of plants inside and out. Again, we are all creatures of nature. Not only are plants beautiful, they also refresh the air and bring their life to us. They provide us with food. They are, in of themselves, beautiful.
In suburb and country homes plants are fairly easy to incorporate into our exterior settings. Depending on your growing zone you can select plants with varying styles of foliage. Leaves range from small and silvery to large and deep green. Some are seasonal while others are evergreen. The sounds of leaves in a breeze - amazing. Aspen leaves are almost choral. Again, the possibilities are endless. The scents from plants are also wonderful. I love the scent of pine trees just as I love the scents of different types of grasses.
And what of city homes? Several rose bushes on that small exterior deck will be wonderful, as will small planters on the roof deck. No decks? Plants on the interior are also important, be it city, suburb, or country. When I lived in a high-rise apartment I grew a variety of herbs indoors. I particularly liked the scent of rosemary and thyme. Snake plants are very easy to grown indoors and are noted for their ability to purify the air.
As we engage in our mindfulness practices plants also provide us with objects of contemplation. The sounds as air moves through them; the scents they put off; the way they clean the air… The simple act of our focusing on the wonders of a single leaf.
Sunlight. From the outset we humans have had a direct relationship with the sun. The hopefulness of a morning sunrise. The magnificence of an evening sunset. The play of light and shadows through the trees. The warmth of the sun on our backs on a cold day. When we can tap into sunlight we are tapping into a deep part of our deeper self. And yet, despite the fact that sunlight enables all life on earth to exist, we often ignore it. Sunlight exists in the background of our lives.
But the active use of sunlight can greatly enhance the quality of our lives in general and our places for mindfulness in particular.
Water. As with sunlight, water is essential to all life. The relationship with water is hardwired into our very being. After sitting on a beach for 3 or 4 hours my body and soul become so relaxed that I can scarcely stand up to leave. Resting near a brook and listening to the play of water on the rocks leaves me completely rejuvenated. Even the small recycling fountain outside my window touches something within me.
If you live near an ocean, lake, river or stream the choice is obvious; as possible create a way to touch, smell, and/or hear the water. But we don’t all have the Pacific at hand, I know.
Outside our homes it’s wonderful to design a garden that includes a water feature. Recycling water is not difficult to achieve and the benefits are incredible. Barring that a smaller recycling fountain can be nice. Even a very small “hobby” fountain is a good option.
Water as ice is also wonderful, but we’ll save that for another time…
When we “sit” for our times of mindfulness the sounds of our small fountain not only speak to something long buried within us, but also provides gentle white noise to mask other sounds in our homes.
Quiet. Here in the 21st century achieving quiet can be difficult. It’s hard to achieve a stillness of mind when we’re constantly disturbed by our text message alerts. Still, silencing these and other alerts is simply a matter of will: a necessary decision that must be made if we are to engage in mindfulness.
External “noises” vary greatly in city, suburb, and country settings. Living in an urban high-rise apartment I found it virtually impossible to achieve acoustical quiet. In the end my solution had nothing to do with architecture or design. When I needed true quiet I put on my noise canceling headphones. You might think that it would have been better when I moved to suburb. Nope. One of the neighbors put a basketball hoop up on the street. For parents of the children using the hoop it was great. Easy to keep an eye on the kids. For others trying to find a little peace after a long day, not so great. Once again, noise canceling headphones. (It’s worth mentioning that I know lots of people who preferred nature-based sound machines. Something that softly and continually plans the sounds of the ocean for example. If that works for you, terrific.)
Not all suburbs are as noisy as mine. Some actually have regulations agains street hoops or invest in proper courts for the neighborhood. Noise in the country? Well, I suppose one can get tired of the crows…
Still, in most instances it is good to have a place in your home that is as quiet as possible. That may have something to do with location in the home, but it certainly includes consideration for materials. Hard materials such as ceramic tile or concrete will necessarily reflect much more sound than an area rug. Bare plaster walls will create more echoes than walls that have a couple of fabric tapestries. Though consideration needs to be given to issues of sustainability, wood finishes are much more absorbent than traditional gypsum board.
Intimate scale. For some people an intimate scale may not be essential. I’ve certainly attended sessions in very large spaces - almost gym-like, and been OK. But not great. Within my own home I believe a space for mindfulness wants to be smaller scale. In an existing home this may mean dedicating a corner of a room that will be used for mindfulness sessions. This may include some sort of movable screen, though it may be sufficient to have a small area rug that defines the space as well as some objects of focus, as discussed below.
Still, in a perfect world I would prefer a space with relatively few square feet and with a comparatively low ceiling. This could be tucked into the side of a larger space or designed as “found” space, not originally intended for mindfulness. These smaller spaces are not only good acoustically, but they also help with focus.
Soothing and/or neutral colors. This is important: what is soothing to me may not be soothing to you. I may find a rich yellow color soothing, while you prefer a neutral ochre. I might find that vermilion helps me to focus, while you find it agitating. What is important is to find what works for you. The great thing here: painting a small space is easy and inexpensive. If your first effort fails it is easy to try again. But, do find what works best for you.
A space for mindfulness does not want to make you agitated.
Within your dedicated space there should be at least one or two places to engage in your practice. I have long preferred to have a cushion which I can place on the floor during my sessions. But my all too rapidly aging bones also like to have a not-too comfortable chair that facilities wakefulness and good posture. I know that some people use thin yoga mats while others use a special rug. Still others like to go old school and sit on a bare floor.
Finally, within the dedicated space there should be a place where you locate a few objects of significance. What counts as significant is highly personal. Perhaps it is a religious icon. Perhaps a special photo. Maybe it’s an object that evokes a special feeling. You might also want to include objects that have an almost ritualistic quality. A “singing” bowl for the beginning and ending points of your session. Perhaps a place to burn incense or to place special plants. A place to put your small recycling water fountain.
*******
Now picture this, as once again our poor and tortured single mother arrives home after a miserable day. She slips her shoes off at the door, walks to the kitchen putting her bag of groceries away, cleans Uhura’s poop and then retreats for a session of mindfulness. She has converted what was originally designed as a dressing area off of her bedroom into her place for mindfulness. The only truly significant change she had to make was to install a large casement window in a wall that looks out across the small garden behind her home. She has also replaced the “builder’s grade” lighting fixtures that were originally in the space with small, dimmer controlled downlights.
Today as she “sits” she selects a richly colored cushion on which to situate herself. With the casement windows fully open she feels a gentle breeze moving small wisps of hair across her forehead. The low ceiling above her and nearby, softly colored walls almost seem to hug her. The slightly dimmed incandescent light above her makes the space she inhabits seem even calmer, while drawing her attending out the open windows. In this softly lit space she notices the sunlight falling across a single leaf outside her window. The leaf is so beautiful - miraculous really. The veining of the leaf, the subtle variation in its coloring. Perhaps as she contemplate that leaf she will connect with an eternal source that is at once in the leaf and in her. The space is so quiet, so incredibly quiet. The air coming through the window is moist and not at all like the overly conditioned dry air of her artificial cooling system. Somewhere deep in her memory she is reminded of something, but is unable to put her finger on what she is not quite remembering. The materials around her seem to absorb all extraneous sounds and she doesn’t even notice when Uhura joins her. Is that the scent of the onion and garlic plants she planted in the small garden outside? So lovely. She slowly vanishes into this life-affirming space as her mindfulness session takes hold.
Perhaps 20 or 30 minutes later the timer she has set rings (actually a recording of a singing bowl) and she is back. But she is different now. Her boss’s words seem less threatening than they did before. She isn’t so worried about her position. She knows she is in good hands and that the right things will fall into place. She is calm as she rises, refreshed, renewed and ready to pick up her daughter from her music lesson. She and Uhura share a moment as they gaze at one another. Tonight after putting her daughter to bed she and Uhura will return to this place for some quiet reading.
*****
Is this too much to expect? Shouldn’t architecture enhance our humanity and our lives? Whatever else it may achieve, if architecture doesn’t make our lives better is it really any different from mere construction? Oh my soul, shouldn’t Architecture be for all of us?
Continues from Part 1
What does “a place for mindfulness” want to be? Allow me to share some of the points on my list along with my reasoning behind their inclusion. I’ll bet that as you compare our lists you will find some overlap. Sure, the language may vary and our reasoning may be somewhat different, but in the end you will probably find our lists to be surprisingly similar. In no particular order, a place for mindfulness wants;
A direct connection between interior and exterior. City, country, suburb… it doesn’t matter. We are all creatures of nature and it is unnatural to be hermetically sealed inside a building. It deprives us of something implanted in us long, long ago.
I’ve been in city homes that have terrific connections to the exterior. Perhaps it’s a roof deck on the top of a triple decker. Maybe its a high-rise apartment or condo unit with its own small exterior deck. Sometimes there is a pair of large windows that can swing inside with a protective guardrail on the exterior.
I’ve also been in country homes that lacked any real connection to the exterior. What a shame. Windows that have been painted shut. Intentionally inoperable windows. Dense heavy drapes (Why? Heavens, your home is in the country. Who are you hiding from?) I’ve seen similarly closed homes in the suburbs, though window treatments can make sense in many too-closely packed developments.
What to do? It is so easy to have French doors or large glass sliders that completely open the interior and exterior to one another. Mosquitoes or other nasties? Add a screen when appropriate. In smaller spaces I’m a huge fan of casement windows which open completely to the outside, leaving no visual obstructions. While a slider doesn’t open completely, it still provides a connection. Finally, there are traditional double hung windows.
A connection between interior and exterior will enhance our space for mindfulness.
Inclusion of plants inside and out. Again, we are all creatures of nature. Not only are plants beautiful, they also refresh the air and bring their life to us. They provide us with food. They are, in of themselves, beautiful.
In suburb and country homes plants are fairly easy to incorporate into our exterior settings. Depending on your growing zone you can select plants with varying styles of foliage. Leaves range from small and silvery to large and deep green. Some are seasonal while others are evergreen. The sounds of leaves in a breeze - amazing. Aspen leaves are almost choral. Again, the possibilities are endless. The scents from plants are also wonderful. I love the scent of pine trees just as I love the scents of different types of grasses.
And what of city homes? Several rose bushes on that small exterior deck will be wonderful, as will small planters on the roof deck. No decks? Plants on the interior are also important, be it city, suburb, or country. When I lived in a high-rise apartment I grew a variety of herbs indoors. I particularly liked the scent of rosemary and thyme. Snake plants are very easy to grown indoors and are noted for their ability to purify the air.
As we engage in our mindfulness practices plants also provide us with objects of contemplation. The sounds as air moves through them; the scents they put off; the way they clean the air… The simple act of our focusing on the wonders of a single leaf.
Sunlight. From the outset we humans have had a direct relationship with the sun. The hopefulness of a morning sunrise. The magnificence of an evening sunset. The play of light and shadows through the trees. The warmth of the sun on our backs on a cold day. When we can tap into sunlight we are tapping into a deep part of our deeper self. And yet, despite the fact that sunlight enables all life on earth to exist, we often ignore it. Sunlight exists in the background of our lives.
But the active use of sunlight can greatly enhance the quality of our lives in general and our places for mindfulness in particular.
Water. As with sunlight, water is essential to all life. The relationship with water is hardwired into our very being. After sitting on a beach for 3 or 4 hours my body and soul become so relaxed that I can scarcely stand up to leave. Resting near a brook and listening to the play of water on the rocks leaves me completely rejuvenated. Even the small recycling fountain outside my window touches something within me.
If you live near an ocean, lake, river or stream the choice is obvious; as possible create a way to touch, smell, and/or hear the water. But we don’t all have the Pacific at hand, I know.
Outside our homes it’s wonderful to design a garden that includes a water feature. Recycling water is not difficult to achieve and the benefits are incredible. Barring that a smaller recycling fountain can be nice. Even a very small “hobby” fountain is a good option.
Water as ice is also wonderful, but we’ll save that for another time…
When we “sit” for our times of mindfulness the sounds of our small fountain not only speak to something long buried within us, but also provides gentle white noise to mask other sounds in our homes.
Quiet. Here in the 21st century achieving quiet can be difficult. It’s hard to achieve a stillness of mind when we’re constantly disturbed by our text message alerts. Still, silencing these and other alerts is simply a matter of will: a necessary decision that must be made if we are to engage in mindfulness.
External “noises” vary greatly in city, suburb, and country settings. Living in an urban high-rise apartment I found it virtually impossible to achieve acoustical quiet. In the end my solution had nothing to do with architecture or design. When I needed true quiet I put on my noise canceling headphones. You might think that it would have been better when I moved to suburb. Nope. One of the neighbors put a basketball hoop up on the street. For parents of the children using the hoop it was great. Easy to keep an eye on the kids. For others trying to find a little peace after a long day, not so great. Once again, noise canceling headphones. (It’s worth mentioning that I know lots of people who preferred nature-based sound machines. Something that softly and continually plans the sounds of the ocean for example. If that works for you, terrific.)
Not all suburbs are as noisy as mine. Some actually have regulations agains street hoops or invest in proper courts for the neighborhood. Noise in the country? Well, I suppose one can get tired of the crows…
Still, in most instances it is good to have a place in your home that is as quiet as possible. That may have something to do with location in the home, but it certainly includes consideration for materials. Hard materials such as ceramic tile or concrete will necessarily reflect much more sound than an area rug. Bare plaster walls will create more echoes than walls that have a couple of fabric tapestries. Though consideration needs to be given to issues of sustainability, wood finishes are much more absorbent than traditional gypsum board.
Intimate scale. For some people an intimate scale may not be essential. I’ve certainly attended sessions in very large spaces - almost gym-like, and been OK. But not great. Within my own home I believe a space for mindfulness wants to be smaller scale. In an existing home this may mean dedicating a corner of a room that will be used for mindfulness sessions. This may include some sort of movable screen, though it may be sufficient to have a small area rug that defines the space as well as some objects of focus, as discussed below.
Still, in a perfect world I would prefer a space with relatively few square feet and with a comparatively low ceiling. This could be tucked into the side of a larger space or designed as “found” space, not originally intended for mindfulness. These smaller spaces are not only good acoustically, but they also help with focus.
Soothing and/or neutral colors. This is important: what is soothing to me may not be soothing to you. I may find a rich yellow color soothing, while you prefer a neutral ochre. I might find that vermilion helps me to focus, while you find it agitating. What is important is to find what works for you. The great thing here: painting a small space is easy and inexpensive. If your first effort fails it is easy to try again. But, do find what works best for you.
A space for mindfulness does not want to make you agitated.
Within your dedicated space there should be at least one or two places to engage in your practice. I have long preferred to have a cushion which I can place on the floor during my sessions. But my all too rapidly aging bones also like to have a not-too comfortable chair that facilities wakefulness and good posture. I know that some people use thin yoga mats while others use a special rug. Still others like to go old school and sit on a bare floor.
Finally, within the dedicated space there should be a place where you locate a few objects of significance. What counts as significant is highly personal. Perhaps it is a religious icon. Perhaps a special photo. Maybe it’s an object that evokes a special feeling. You might also want to include objects that have an almost ritualistic quality. A “singing” bowl for the beginning and ending points of your session. Perhaps a place to burn incense or to place special plants. A place to put your small recycling water fountain.
*******
Now picture this, as once again our poor and tortured single mother arrives home after a miserable day. She slips her shoes off at the door, walks to the kitchen putting her bag of groceries away, cleans Uhura’s poop and then retreats for a session of mindfulness. She has converted what was originally designed as a dressing area off of her bedroom into her place for mindfulness. The only truly significant change she had to make was to install a large casement window in a wall that looks out across the small garden behind her home. She has also replaced the “builder’s grade” lighting fixtures that were originally in the space with small, dimmer controlled downlights.
Today as she “sits” she selects a richly colored cushion on which to situate herself. With the casement windows fully open she feels a gentle breeze moving small wisps of hair across her forehead. The low ceiling above her and nearby, softly colored walls almost seem to hug her. The slightly dimmed incandescent light above her makes the space she inhabits seem even calmer, while drawing her attending out the open windows. In this softly lit space she notices the sunlight falling across a single leaf outside her window. The leaf is so beautiful - miraculous really. The veining of the leaf, the subtle variation in its coloring. Perhaps as she contemplate that leaf she will connect with an eternal source that is at once in the leaf and in her. The space is so quiet, so incredibly quiet. The air coming through the window is moist and not at all like the overly conditioned dry air of her artificial cooling system. Somewhere deep in her memory she is reminded of something, but is unable to put her finger on what she is not quite remembering. The materials around her seem to absorb all extraneous sounds and she doesn’t even notice when Uhura joins her. Is that the scent of the onion and garlic plants she planted in the small garden outside? So lovely. She slowly vanishes into this life-affirming space as her mindfulness session takes hold.
Perhaps 20 or 30 minutes later the timer she has set rings (actually a recording of a singing bowl) and she is back. But she is different now. Her boss’s words seem less threatening than they did before. She isn’t so worried about her position. She knows she is in good hands and that the right things will fall into place. She is calm as she rises, refreshed, renewed and ready to pick up her daughter from her music lesson. She and Uhura share a moment as they gaze at one another. Tonight after putting her daughter to bed she and Uhura will return to this place for some quiet reading.
*****
Is this too much to expect? Shouldn’t architecture enhance our humanity and our lives? Whatever else it may achieve, if architecture doesn’t make our lives better is it really any different from mere construction? Oh my soul, shouldn’t Architecture be for all of us?