Guest Post by Daphne Shapiro
I knew that I wanted to move into that round cabin in a field from the moment I saw the ad on Craigslist.
At 500 square feet, it was the smallest place I had ever lived in. It was round, like a yurt, but built like a house, with windows all around and two sets of doors to the outside. A big skylight dominated the ceiling. The cabin had a colorful past, having been used not only for housing, but also as a recording studio and at one point, for professionally-run seances. I hadn’t a clue how to furnish this round room so I went on the web and researched “yurts.”
I decided that I liked the way the Mongolians handled the situation. In those yurts, the middle of the room was taken up by a big stove and all the furniture was pushed against the edges of the room with the beds doubling as seating during the day. I didn’t have a big stove in the middle of the room, but I liked the idea of being efficient with whatever I did bring to the yurt, so I immediately sold my sofa and arranged the rest of my furniture around the perimeter, Mongolian-style, leaving an open space in the middle. That area under the skylight ended up doubling as a personal yoga studio, a guest room where I could put the blow up mattress, a larger space to move the dining table out when I had people over to eat or as a place to put extra chairs when friends were hanging out. The middle space with nothing in it became the most used and most useful area in the cabin.
The tiny bathroom was the only private room. It looked out on a field and had a Lilliputian shower tucked into one corner. The kitchen was built against one of the walls and consisted of several cabinets, a miniature counter top and refrigerator and stove. I did my laundry in a shed across a small field where an ancient washer and dryer were located. My bike and a couple of extra plastic containers were stashed in a barn at the back of the property. The electricity, plumbing and internet access came with the property and was included in the rent. Heating for the yurt, the cook stove, and the water were my responsibility and came from propane tanks.
My one job on the property was to pull the garbage and recycling bins down the long driveway to the road once a week. My first time was a Monday night, a few days after I moved in. It was a moonless night in January and by the time I got home from work, it was very, very dark. I grabbed my camera and took some spooky shots with my flash and posted them on Facebook. The very next morning, a friend of mine arrived at my office with the flashlight and strict instructions to use it for future night-time garbage runs!
A week after moving in, I was unexpectedly diagnosed with 4th stage cancer. As I stumbled through months of diagnosis, of chemo and of recovery, I ended up wandering the fields daily and ultimately taking almost 2,000 photos of the land, the flowers, the birds and animals, the sky. Most of the photos are not much good. I was on drugs, after all! But the act of photography kept me sane.
The round cabin in the field was a beautiful, remarkable place to live during that time of my life. I spent a fair amount of time in bed and from the window by my head I could see the sun rise and from the window across the room I could see the sun set. On full moon nights, the moonbeams would shine onto my face and wake me up when it passed over the skylight. During the day, I could watch birds fly overhead and chase acorns around the skylight’s edge. When it stormed, the rain, the wind, and the flying tree branches would crash against the walls, the windows and roof, but I was safe inside this little pod. Where else but in that round house in the field could all those miracles be possible?
At one point during chemo, I became so ill that I had to leave the country for two months and be taken care of in the city. I tried not to think about my round cabin too much during that time. When I was finally able to come back – cured for now – I decided to return alone. I walked back into the cabin and immediately opened all the doors and windows. I turned off my phone and spent that first night back listening only to the wind in the trees.
Even then, I knew that this new, post-cancer life of mine would probably require leaving the cabin in the field. During my last few months of recovery, I memorized the views outside of every window, especially the one by the head of my bed, where I would watch the sunrise, the wild turkeys, the deer, the squirrels, the birds, and the branch of the oak tree that overhung the roof. I wanted to make sure that every time I closed my eyes, I would be able to re-create that view for the rest of my life. At the end of my lease in December of 2011, I did move out and came back to live in town. On the rare occasions that I return to visit, my feet navigate the fields with more confidence than my eyes. Will I ever come back there to live? Probably not to that place, but most likely to a place much like it.
Where actually is this located?
Thank you, Daphne, for sharing this. Very inspirational!
What a beautiful story!! Thank you for sharing it, Daphne!
Well told, powerful story…place does matter. Even ’empty space place’ getting used so much. Thanks for sharing and good health hopes and wishes for the next stage of the journey.
Daphne: Continued health and happiness to you. I am glad that this strikingly beautiful place gave you a good feeling while you were undergoing so much with your health. The photos are beautiful, this is so well written, loved “Lilliputian shower.” Thank you so much for sharing, and God bless. 🙂
Great story Daphne. You are a true wordsmith! I will always remember visiting you in your yurt. Such a beautiful place in the most beautiful area of America.
Gulp! Great story Daphne. Good health and well wishes to you. Circumstances may change but the adventure must continue. Mb
Your round house in the country was so beautiful and so are you! xo – Sonya
Book please! Write it like you wrote this piece and it will find many readers.
Thank you so much for sharing Daphne …. my garden was ( and is) a great source of comfort, peace and wellness when I was unwell with lymphoma…. I am now well and most of that I attribute to my garden and nearby river … I wish you continuing good health and happiness and hope that in the future you will again find a beautiful place ‘of nature’ in which to reside…. Shalom
I am moved by your story. thank you.
wow…thank you for sharing
I want to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful, uplifting comments. When I saw that this piece had been published, I burst into tears. This has been an incredible day for me, and you are all part of it. I love each and every one of you for making it so. Love, Daphne
Yes, yes. Book, please. This is a perfect example of the healing power of natural spaces. Remove me from nature and I wither. Right now, I’m in the suburbs, but my apartment faces a beautiful stream. I spend most of my free time on the patio. It is my humble, little heaven.
I can really relate to your wanting to memorize every view from your yurt. I had the opportunity to spend a whole decade in the rural countryside of a farming community. I often envision the views from my old home whenever I need a little country comfort.
Best wishes to you for continued health and adventures.
Blessed Be!
Beautiful story – not just of you and a wonderful ‘home in the round’, but of your current status of recovery. I, too, am sad for you, that you could not continue to live in such a place that made you feel so inspired and content…
Would you have been able to stay there, had you a companion or roommate to share expenses with but, more importantly, be there for you, as needed (in doing the more strenuous tasks, assisting you with your treatment, etc.)? Just curious.
Because I live alone, and with a hideous, debilitating set of autoimmune diseases AND severe spinal stenosis, and I know I have been stubborn in continuing to make plans, get around, do things, that many would think, in my condition, that I should not… It’s been more often than not that I, too, have had to resign myself to living more like the unwell person I am… but I do so grudgingly.
I wish you much luck and good health in your time to come… and I hope that there is another ‘house in the round’ for you, there, as well. Our spirits need to be pampered and taken care of, too.
And it sounds like this little cabin was very soothing to your soul. 😉
Beautiful post. I wish you well in your life in the city and hold good thoughts for your return to a life in the country in another special tiny house.
Daphne, this is exquisite. Your experience, and the way you have told the story, are deeply moving to me. I am about to move out of the city, and I hope my new home – which I have not found yet – will be as alive and enlivening as your “circle of life”.
Thank you for your writing.
Many blessings on all you do.
Lovely post. Thank you. Very moving. And, yes, there’s so much beauty in watching the play of light, the shadows, clouds, the weather. I have been seeking a place that feels even half as spiritual as yours. Thank you for such a beautiful and inspiring story. I know my place is out there (or in here?) too.
Very nice article. I love the sound of the wind also. I am glad you are doing better and wish you the best.
Thank you.
I can testify to the healing properties (de-stressing and emotional solace) of a country setting and the joy of a small cabin. Ours was 25×25 with a 22′ high ceiling and a sleeping loft. When we sold it (actually we considered it an adoption) I was sure I would grieve, but as I had all the details of the cabin, lake and trees etched in my mind, I can “visit” whenever I like.
Be well.
Having survived several cancers and the loss of several family members who did not, I was very moved by your story, your gently and beautifully phrased descriptions of the place and the photos that bespoke the peace you found there. I sincerely hope you return to another healing circle in a field for a long, long time!
Thank you for this lovely article. Yes, a book would be phenomenal. My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and not only “took to the woods,” but ate wild edibles. He also recovered. I remember this and eat (and grow) a number of wild foods in my garden. Never underestimate the healing power of natural spaces. I have a 600 square foot house on 13.5 acres. When I lost my job I moved to it. Hardest thing was to come “back” to the city when I got another job. It will be paid for in about 2 years… we’ll see then.
You walk in beauty wherever you are, Daphne. This article made me inventory the many blessings around me that keep me grounded in beauty. On so many levels this is a beautiful story. Thank you for writing and sharing your photos, Daphne. Thank you Kevin for making it available here.
Daphne, Your photos are wonderful, and your story so poignant, I too like others have lost close family to cancer. I believe in the beauty of the small home, and learning to live off the land, where you can live freely, at low cost, where beauty is boundless, where nature shows you the true gift of life. Many Blessings on continued health.
Only problem with this round cabin is–it appears to be polygonal. 😉
thank you for sharing your journey Daphne, and this wonderful story of finding peace and truly what is important amidst life’s many challenges..I also live in a small space on 17 acres and love the pastoral views and wildlife that coexist..including jack rabbits, rattlesnakes, puma, hummers, geckos…beautiful songbirds..finding ourselves is sometimes difficult but when we do, we are home..I wish you love and heart’s contentment and again finding your next retreat..you will!
Round is a state of perception. All but 1 of us sees a round house.
Thank you for sharing your story and your wonderful healing space.
I am currently on a journey of fighting cancer and felt very connected to what you wrote here.
May you continue to heal and live in health and beauty.
Your next special space may find you when you least expect it <3
Such a beautiful and touching story. Thank you for sharing it. : )
Lovely story!
Daphne,
Sometimes you really need to read a story like this one to stop you in your tracks. Less is more, life is more, nature is more, can we not see this, feel this and be a part of something larger than life itself. I believe that the little round cabin may have been a healing process and a point of recover that only you and many others experience in your situation. Life is but a precious moment in time. I wish you love, joy, happiness, health, and most of all the opportunity to be back in that place you love and hold so dear to your recovery. Sending you blessings from New Brunswick, Canada <3.
Nice.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful – your story, your life, YOU.
That’s a very cool property. I would never ask for more If I own that house.
Your home looks so cozy and warm ~ womb like. I’m imagining/feeling that living in a round room would also round make a person less “edgy” as there are no corners. And, that the skylight gives you access to the moon and stars at night and sun at day ~ a taste of heaven.
Nice place! I would rather live in a peaceful relaxing cabin than to settle in the busy noisy city.
I agree with Patricia, that is a very peaceful place and the ambiance is very cool.
Thank you so much for sharing your inspiring and beautifully articulated story. Sending you much love…
Hello Daphne: I wonder about the protection on the doors and windows; For example there is no need for protection against tornadoes?. How about other climate threats and energy savings?