“I cannot separate it [watching the world go by] from the porch where it occurs. The action and the space are indivisible. The action is supported by this kind of space. The space supports this kind of action. The two form a unit, a pattern of events in space.”
Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building
One of the most wonderful aspects of the natural order of times and seasons is the different parts of a day. For many of us, summer means daytime temperatures that can be downright prohibitive. It can be hard to plan on doing something outdoors when the heat might be overwhelming. Besides, a number of those outdoor activities are not for everyone in the household, since they are age selective.
But everyone can enjoy sitting outside together in the evening on the patio, porch, deck, or lawn. It would be hard to say just how central this activity was to the social and cultural life of past generations. Before air conditioning, television, and automobiles, and a number of other household-changing technologies, people were practically driven outside on a summer evening. They sat together with others of their household, and they often found themselves welcoming friends or neighbors into their circle. Goodness knows what they spoke of–presumably the little things of life as well as some bigger things, and it was surely common that individuals would have hand-work to give rhythm and background to the conversation and the passing of time.
I presume nobody needed to say, “Meet on the porch at 7pm,” or “Get out here Kids, it’s time for porch-sitting.”
Now we need to be realistic. It will take planning and artfulness if the household is going to be sitting somewhere all–or reasonably all–together. But we need not fret. Let’s just do it. It is within our power to orchestrate it, or at least to make conditions conducive to it. Depending on the age of children, it might simply work for parents to go somewhere and just sit down. And stay there a while. The others might just come.
This is the season for doing it outdoors: on porch, patio, deck, or lawn. It might not seem like we are ‘doing’ very much at all. But this simple activity might just be a springboard to an unexpected wealth of other activities, and in any case, of being together.
What to Do this Summer Mini-Series
This is the second in a series: What To Do This Summer. Find the other posts below!
III. Summer Reading Aloud, Together
IV. Playing Games with Children
Christopher Alexander (1936–) was born in Austria and is currently an emeritus professor of architecture at the University of California, where he taught for almost forty years. He has been widely influential through his theories of architecture, and is especially known for his 1977 book A Pattern Language.
You can read other posts on Christopher Alexander, including the series Restoring Home Life: Room by Room.
Image: Missouri sharecroppers. 1930’s
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
[…] A short and sweet reminder from John Cuddeback to carve out time to enjoy… to do what you like to do (as opposed to what you think others like); perhaps to rediscover some overlooked enjoyment, like sitting on the porch, that may transform the ordinary into… real life. The book he references is one we love, A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander. I wrote about it here, just a little. It can go on the shelf next to David Clayton’s Way of Beauty, a book that illuminates the patterns Alexander doesn’t have the vocabulary for — the transcendent ones of order and beauty in the Liturgy. […]
Once again, a reminder of God’s infinite wisdom in slowing us down – walking for the sake of it. As I prepare for the next chapter in our family’s life and contemplate our upcoming tremendously big move to the midwest, I think of challenges and changes that will be difficult for me personally, as well as the tasks of “moving in” for my husband and his new job, our children in their new schools/jobs, navigating the city, new parish. I need to take a walk this evening just for the sake of it. Thank you, Dr. Cuddeback, for putting God’s Whisper to me in print.
All of the best at this important time for your family! I will remember you in prayer.
My family and I walked the Camino de Santiago 3 years ago, and we all loved the repetitive daily routine of waking up, walking, stopping for food, walking, stopping at towns and churches, walking, and enjoying the beautiful and ever-changing scenery around us. It was such a profound experience, and we all enjoyed different benefits from it. In addition to growing closer to everyone with whom we were walking, it provides time for inner reflection, so we all progressed in our Spiritual Pilgrimage to Heaven as well as our physical one to Santiago. I whole-heartedly agree with the notion of walking for its own sake. It definitely is a worthwhile pass time, and one which allows for inner growth as well as growth towards others around you.
That sounds fantastic. I hope I have the chance to do that one day…
Dr. Cuddeback – I am wondering what you would say to someone who tells you “the most dreaded phrase I could possibly hear after a meal – or at any time – is ‘lets go for a walk'”? I am one of those people who simply dislikes walking – it makes no sense to me. If I want to admire nature I would prefer to sit outside, sit, and admire and contemplate the beauty that surrounds me. I know of at least one other person who is like me – and she is an active mother of 10. But other than her, I know of no one else who, like me, simply dislikes walking. I cannot contemplate while I’m walking, I cannot drink in the beauty that surrounds me – in fact, walking distracts me from the beauty around me. I have tried time and time again to no avail (and I’ve tried walking in VA, Ireland, Swiss Alps, Italian Alps, etc) – I simply detest walking for the sake of walking.
Teta T.,
I love this comment. It sounds like the right answer is not: “well why don’t you try this approach to walking…” It seems to me that walking will not have the place in your life that it can for most people. Honestly, if you hadn’t already tried it as much as you have, I probably would have suggested some other approach to walking. But in this case I’d be interested for you to approach it this way: what can I do that would have fruits parallel to what walking does for most people? It seems to me that walking is most of all a way to be in the world around us, sometimes alone and sometimes together with others. How else might you do that? It seems you are already on the right track: just sitting outside, for instance. This itself can require some effort and intentionality. But dare I circle back for a moment to walking? What about a very short stroll. Don’t think hiking here; no breaking a sweat, no noticeably increased heart rate; just a brief turn about the block, slowly. And even maybe regularly? Might that be worth a try? Thanks again very much.
I have a tendency to think of songs relating to…anything. Hence, Irving Berlin’s piece, “Let’s Take An Old-Fashioned Walk” (I learned it in Catholic grade school for the annual school play–about sixty years ago!) instantly came to mind. Here is Irving Berlin singing his own composition. https://soundcloud.com/peter-mintun/lets-take-an-old-fashioned Enjoy!
The Italian practice of a daily “passegiata” comes to mind after reading this wonderful reflection. We were struck with how normal and ordinary it seemed for many Italians (our particular experience was in Rome, but I’m sure it’s common throughout the country) to take a leisurely stroll after dinner. There, one could take in the rich sights and sounds of the city slipping from daytime to nighttime, see friends or neighbors, talk with one’s walking companions, and get a sense of being part of a wider community than just inside the walls of an apartment.
We really loved entering into this local custom; it not only helped us feel more like locals and less like outsiders, but we always seemed to find something new to discover in the evening walks that we would’ve missed in the harsh glare of daytime Mediterranean heat (also, our baby loved being walked to sleep this way!).
How absolutely delightful. Where there is a communal habit of walking, you actually do feel like you are part of something much bigger. That is wonderful aspect of a number of European countries, isn’t it?