49/2025: When Others Feel at Home

Image © Jose 2025

I was travelling for work last week, away from the house that now stands firmly as my home. As I flew back, there was a real feeling of coming back home. I had guests at home, family that came once, twice, and now keep on coming back because they like the place. And I mean the place, because the same family came before and stayed with us, but there was no real sense of pleasure, for them or for us, when they came. They didn’t indulge, didn’t stay beyond the night’s sleep, and they didn’t linger. Not this time. And it made me think about how your home can feel like a home to others.

I started paying attention to the guests, a couple in their early thirties, and how they lived our home: where they sat, lingered, walked, how, how long, what called their attention. The first interesting thing is that sofa ownership is flipped on its head. I may think that particular sofa, that spot, that pillow, is mine. But a guest will not know, especially if they didn’t find me sitting there when they arrived. So, they choose, and many times they choose the same places we have picked as our favorites. And as they sit comfortably, enjoying the location, the view, the back toward this and the face toward that, we choose a different place to sit, which is only possible when you have space to choose from. It’s interesting, because you may discover you actually like other places to sit around the house. After all, that sofa in the dining room is great, that corner with the light above works well, facing that painting is actually relaxing. You explore, experiment, learn.

The second is the table seating. We use one side of the table when we are alone. The oval table is great to sit six to eight people, but for two people we tend to use a third of the space. With guests, you sit differently. Suddenly you are paying attention to the etiquette of seating arrangements, choosing the best place at the table for your guests, moving chairs around, bringing out the nicer napkins (for which you have six), placing cutting boards differently, and bringing all the possible, eventually desirable things to the table: these new pepper shakers from faraway lands, the bottles of olive oil – you can never exaggerate with olive oil!

You notice how and where they sit on the sofa, at the table, by the kitchen counter. You see them walking unfamiliar routes by the library shelving we forget we have, paying attention to an object we placed on a piece of furniture, mulling around the space and picking things up. Fascinating. They go out onto the deck, they walk around, they wander through the house getting to know our home, but in doing so they show us a different home, one we have already grown accustomed to. They ask for help with the fireplace, and once it’s working, burning logs, filling the room with heat and the smell of wood, they sit there and watch the fire, sitting on the cement floor, something we haven’t done enough.

The guest bedroom is also a small miracle. You plan and lay things out carefully, but guests do as they please. They move the furniture as if they were in a hotel room, place their luggage on the floor instead of where we planned they would, and they are naturally messy  (by naturally, I mean messy in a way different from our messy). I walked in twice when they were not in the bedroom, to get something stored in their closet, and just stood there, looking at what they had done. Nothing wrong. Ten minutes and everything is back in place. But it feels like this is their final step to feeling at home, in their bedroom, in our bedroom.

These guests like it here, they already told us so. One of them even forgot expensive headphones, a sign they might be coming back soon. We have other guests arriving, not really guests because they are family, but still guests. They’ve spent time with us before, and we are glad they are returning. Suddenly, you realize that making a home for yourself is also an exercise in making a home for your friends, your family, your loved ones. They will live your home differently. They will make it their home inside your home while they are around.

And as I think about the places where I feel most at home when staying with others, I recognize the same gestures, the same small rearrangements, the same quiet claiming of space. Maybe that’s how homes reveal themselves, not when we live in them alone, but when we watch others make themselves comfortable, just for a while.