Pioneer Granny White Lived in a Damn Small House

I often used to wonder why libraries with grand wooden beams and stone walls drew me in — why creativity takes off when I visit a particular café tacked together with ashlar stone and love.

That same draw filled my mind as I took a creaking step into Granny White’s house over in Indiana’s Spring Mill pioneer village.

Beyond those initial warm feelings, though, I was shocked to experience just how cramped Granny’s home was. It couldn’t have been bigger than a ten foot by twenty foot box! Then another thought occurred:

Why don’t I feel like I’m trapped in a prison cell, like I often do when stuck in tiny modern places?

The smells, physical feeling and look of each quaint pioneer house stuck with me as I bopped from one of Granny’s neighbors to the other. The char of burning wood lingered. Squeaking floorboards echoed.

Each structure felt very rough and natural (literally), in comparison to the smooth manufactured plastics, metals and concrete we see in modern architecture.

I kept returning to Granny White’s house, though. It was my clear favorite of the twenty other historic buildings. The village’s massive grist mill stood tall behind it, truly showcasing how tiny her domicile was.

That difference was somehow appealing to me.

My village tour ended by touching Granny’s plaque before walking back to my car; I had to cautiously avoid a few splinters lurking within the rough wood beneath.

I was so at peace standing where Granny likely stood, but was reminded of the stress I feel when stuck in a similarly small — yet modern — room.

I’m talking about monstrosities like modern school buildings with those painted concrete bricks, fluorescent lights and small windows? The ones literally designed by the same people who built prisons?

That sound of bells ringing and chair legs screeching back from desks haunts me, along with the cold trappings of concrete walls and small windows; I still grimace when I think how I felt so trapped.

Many government buildings here in the states give off that same vibe — it’s not just the schools.

But, now that I’m home and have ruminated on tiny rooms of all types, I think I understand why those old wood boxes didn’t feel like traps.

Nature’s raw form comprised those buildings. Stone met wood. Natural daubing bound them.

I’ve always been a person who’s very at peace when in nature. I’m sure not everyone experiences that same peace, but there’s a term for it nonetheless:

Biophilia is the human tendency to take interest in natural environments that nurture life. It’s the built-in craving of natural spaces. Biophilic architecture mimics nature by using natural wood and stone.

Being able to take a moment to appreciate something appealing is a neural signal that you’re safe in that moment — not in a survival state. The brain doesn’t care about all that is lovely, when simply trying to survive.

I’m sure Granny White lived through survival states much more than I, but I wonder how she felt about her home.

Was it a place of comfort, or were conditions so harsh for her that it didn’t evoke such peace as I felt?

My trip to Spring Mill pioneer village flipped my perspective on a few things.

I realized that people of the past may not have felt the same peace that I did as I stood in their homes. They were struggling to survive, rather than just escaping the feeling of modernity’s shrill nails-on-a-chalkboard vibe, like me.

I realized that they might actually find peace in our concrete jungles, because it means that surviving in real ones had already been accomplished.

So perspective and experience is everything when considering the human condition. ‘Pioneer to modern woman’ is quite the extreme scale to apply perspective to, but that makes the difference all the more enlightening.

It all made me realize how important it is to cling those things that naturally evoke feelings of peace when digital worlds, doom scrolls and concrete pens that make modern school rooms can’t do the same.

I wonder what Granny White would say if I introduced her to the idea of biophilia?

What do you think?

Keep the magic alive — Elle

[Originally published on Medium]