The Creaking Floor

I love floors that creak. There’s a power, a personality to it, as if the floor acknowledges me there, greets me, in a way. The house feels homey and lived in, in some sense imprinted.

Old houses have creaky floors and stairs, for sure. It’s not clear if it’s the personality of the people who lived there coming through or the personality of the home itself. But, to me, it always seems inviting and cozy.

It makes me mindful of the moment, more fully present with more of my senses focused here and now.

I also love doors that creak and drawers that squeak.

It’s all what the Japanese call “wabi sabi” – appreciating the beauty of imperfection – seeing the humanness in “a little bit of broken.”

In a sense, the creaking floor is the house adjusting itself to me, telling me clearly it is holding my weight.

The stuck door, the dripping faucet, the wobbly table – they all show the personality and the specialness of a place – not annoyances, but reminders of things that we take for granted.

Perhaps your house has some creaks and squeaks that you can enjoy, too.