Mi Casita es Solo Mi Casita--or Writing Retreat for One

So…despite the fact that entertaining was one of my favorite activities in my days as a homeowner--or the fact that Costa Rica as a country is known for hospitality--I’m afraid I can’t fully say “Mi Casa es Su Casa” while I’m here!

This little place I live in is not only one-person in size, but my landlord family outfitted it so clearly solo that I had to laugh when I entered it for the first time.

The most obvious way that manifests itself is in my little chair and table. 

That’s chair. 

Singular. 

In fact, I don’t think two would have fit in the little space!  It's perfect for exactly one table and chair.

 

The second thing that jumped out at me was that there was just one pillow on the double bed.

Now my landlord and I didn’t get far enough in our advance email conversations to have any type of morality discussions—so for all my host family knew in advance, they could have been renting to a typical U.S. single (as portrayed by Hollywood, that is) with no qualms about sleeping with new friends she meets here.  (I quickly discovered the ex-pats here do make that assumption, and have had to get my boundary skills back up to where they were in cities like LA and New Orleans!)
Or to a married woman whose husband might join her for a visit while she’s on her writing adventure.

Clearly, they are not expecting me to have any company in my bedroom area!  Not unless it’s standard in Costa Rica for sleepover guests to bring their own pillows, that is.  (And in case you wondered, I am still on the non-dating celibacy path I have been on from my spiritual homecoming and start of this project forward.)

The bed does have two pillows on it now, since I had to bring a special neck-protective one with me for Lyme recovery.  But the initial set-up was clearly

table for one

and bed for one!

 

Then shortly after I moved in, the landlord gave up on his plan of stripping and staining my bar stool and just gave it to me to use as is for now.  So I now have my one stool to sit and eat or write at the bar on.  

Not a pair.  Just one.  (Positioned here by my window with my favorite daily writing views in prior post.)

 

That's one chair--and one stool.  Solo Casita--or is that Casita Solo?

 

Then two weeks and two days after I moved in, the promised table and lamp for beside the bed showed up (more along those lines in a future blog post on my introduction to Tica Time.)  And again, it was one of each—not a matching pair for both sides of the bed.

 

Last is my refrigerator. You guessed it! Solo size again.  

 

I love how cute it is and how little space it takes up, but it is just barely large enough to hold fresh fresh dairy and produce for a week for one.  (And yes, that's how eggs come here with no top/lid--and that's drinkable yogurt with blueberries in the carton next to them.)

 

 

I have to admit that I did express my goals and intentions for my time of solitary, uninterrupted writing in Costa Rica to my landlord family in advance. And since I am the first renter they’ve had for their Casita, apparently they took my expressed plan to hibernate and write alone here quite seriously--all the way down to outfitting it with just one chair and just one pillow.

This really beautifully fits my value of "Enoughness" (per Alice Trillin's work): having only what I need and using everything I have! 

What would I do with more than one chair or bar stool??  I can’t even sit on both of those items at the same time, much less make use of pairs of each.  Outfitting a single person’s abode with single items instead of pairs actually probably makes a lot more sense than our typical pairing of everything in the U.S. does.

And the good news is that my beautiful little tropical tea/coffee set that was waiting for me here has plenty of mugs—which means if you do come for a visit, I can at least serve you tea or coffee! 

The markets here have a great variety of inexpensive flavorful teas, and the country is known for its coffees. So there you have it!  One way I can still be hospitable! 

One or two of us can perch on the edge of the bed, one on the stool and one can use the little chair.  Who knows?  Maybe even my clearly solo Casita could be turned into mi casa su casa after all.

Makes Me Think…

On a more reflective note, the whole humorous experience of a Casita outfitted for exactly one person has me thinking about Solitude in general and our challenges with it as a society. Even the fact that after nearly a decade on my own living a fairly solitary life I was surprised by the absence of pairs in anything from chairs to pillows suggests we have a bit of a general prejudice against the solo path, whether we admit to it or not.

Trying to do the writer's lifestyle in a culture unfamiliar with the artist’s path or writer’s lifestyle in particular before moving here was quite a challenge, with people regularly suggesting that solitude is somehow a “bad” thing or makes me a defective person—instead of being essential to the work and often a personal growth point.

Gratefully, there are many authors and other artists from both history and current times who’ve written at length about the path of creation and its typically solitary nature and call.  And in recent years, psychologists have also begun to come forward with studies and articles and books on the value of solitude and its lost art in our society--and on the character development required for being comfortable with active aloneness.

This is the highest degree of solitude my lifestyle and writing has required yet. I do have plenty of people interaction the couple of days of the week when I’m out in public, but most of it is with people who do not speak my language or relate to any of my cultural background.  I am never quite fully connected to others as a result; I am truly on my own here.

But it is stretching me in beautiful ways already. 

I think often while here of the final line of the poem “The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: “I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.” 

Here’s hoping that this writing adventure will take me deeper into that adventure of at-homeness with myself in the empty moments as well—here in my simple but beautiful Casita that has everything I need, outfitted for exactly one!