(noun)
- the action or process of adapting (becoming adjusted to new conditions; making something suitable for a new use or purpose)
- a change or the process of change by which an organism or species becomes better suited to its environment
Day 7 is adaptation...
...and capacity building...and experimenting. At least that's how I think of adaptation.
I would bet - well, everything - that 2020 was a crash course for all of us in adaptation. When every system of support stops suddenly, you have to figure out 1) how to get that support in a different way or 2) manage your capacity to forego that support. For many of us, that was a s.t.r.u.g.g.l.e. We didn't have the muscles built (emotionally, energetically, or physically) to sustain the level of change that was forcing us to adapt in every aspect of our lives. Again, and again, and again.
Now, with a little bit of time between us and the intensity of 2020, perhaps we can take a look at how to build better space for adaptation moving forward.
When pools closed in 2020, I was worried. I rely on swimming as the #1 way to keep me grounded, find my center, release anxiety. During a year with the uncertainty of the pandemic, social uprisings daily in my neighborhood (and rightly so), a layoff early on in April, and other personal stressors I knew that if I didn't adapt to find another way to ground, it would be bad.
So I took up running in the forests of Prospect Park.
To say I had zero capacity for running is an understatement. I took it slowly - run for 1 min, walk for 1 min. Run for 2 min, walk for 1 min...and so on. I added swim arms (front crawl and backstroke) during my walk portions to keep my mobility for my beloved sport active. Eventually, I was running for 20 min straight and it seemed to be working. Until I injured myself...time to adapt again!
Once running was off the table for a bit, I reached out to a friend I knew who was a veteran at open water swimming at Brighton Beach, just a 20 min subway ride away. I have never been an ocean person and was incredibly nervous to give it a go. She gave me a quick lesson of what to be aware of (current direction, sighting, jetty basics) and became a patient partner in a lot of my swims that summer.
What I wasn't aware of was the amount of post-swim caretaking I needed to do. Everything was sandy and needed to dry. My studio apartment did not have oodles of space to accommodate this. And I wasn't sure if this new habit I was cultivating would stick. So while my body and brain adapted to being an open water swimmer (eek!) I started to experiment in my space to support this potential new lifestyle.
What you see above is the second iteration of an experiment I did to house my open water swim items. At first I repurposed a curtain rod I wasn't using and just rested it on my shower "rod" and the lip of the pink tile beyond. I found it was actually quite helpful - I could hang my suits, my towel and beach sheet, and my swim buoy (a brightly colored float that tethers to my waist). Everything would drip water or sand directly into my tub, keeping my floors clean. I could simply rinse everything while I was taking a shower and just pop them over the line - easy breezy!
Once I started to swim in the colder months, more gear appeared - neoprene gloves and booties are my go-to for my first winter season and they take a bit longer to dry. I also needed a place for my larger bag that was out of the way. So I added a second curtain rod and "secured" them with wire. Is it the prettiest thing in the world? No. But it adapts my small, Brooklyn bathroom into a supportive space for my new habit. Until I have my own place to design a fully tricked-out, open-water-swimming focused bathroom, this will work just fine.
If the above is a smaller, habit-driven adaptation, let's talk a bit about how to make spatial adaptations in broader terms.
When work-from-home mandates came through, many of the people I know were flummoxed as to how to adapt their spaces. Most NYC living units are tight on extra space for home offices, home schooling, home gym solutions. As most of my architectural work has focused on public space design (libraries, co-working spaces, etc), I assumed my work was not applicable. But then I realized that what was happening was that people were forced to transition their public spaces into their private spaces. They were struggling with adapting and I knew I could help them make sense of it.
When I talk about adapting your space, what I'm really talking about is how you adjust your space when you hit a transition in your life.
It could be one that is imposed on you such as the pandemic mandates. Or it could be one that you've planned for but weren't exactly prepared for; moving or downsizing a home, bringing in a new roommate/aging parent, or raising a child and moving through the natural shifts of growing. Each situation requires a shift in spacemaking to serve all of the end-users (there's that word again!).
Let me give you an example.
The above image is a floor plan of a client's studio apartment space. This is a family of 3, parents and child of about 7 years of age. They were struggling with how to adapt and make the transition to home-schooling and work-from-home.
We started with what their activity needs were (school area, work area, family area, etc), what their current habits and routines were in the space, and then dove a bit deeper into how to bridge and shift that gap. Our goal was to create a strategy using the furniture they already had in the space so they could test whether the shifts were working for them before they purchased anything new.
What you are looking at is a programming map - this indicates how the zoning (the colored shapes) will cue function/activity, maximize the space, and utilize adjacency. It also takes into account their personal routines and daily needs in order to create a supportive space moving forward.
The best part of this solution? With everything already in-house, it is very easy to try this for a while to see if it worked. And if not, to experiment with a different configuration!
The point I'm attempting to make is that our spaces do not need to be - nor do I believe they are - static spaces. They can, and want, to be adapted to serve you best. If you are struggling with something in your life, see if adapting your space can help support you. I know it sounds silly, but I've seen it work again and again and again.
And if you do, hit reply and let me know how it goes - I love seeing adapted spaces!!!
JOURNAL PROMPTS
What comes up when you think about adaptation, particularly in relation to yourself?
Do you embrace or push away adapting? How does this help/hurt you?
Where does adaptation feel necessary in your life right now? It could be physical or intangible, simply notice.
How can adapting your physical space support you differently? Try testing something small if you have capacity.
What would be possible if you made space for adaptation in your life? (As you've read, mine opened me up to open water swimming which brought a new, beautiful community and a release of a long-held fear!)
This wraps Day 7...thank you for taking time to explore spacemaking from a place of adaptation!
If you feel inspired to share any takeaways, examples in your own home, or questions that came up for you, please access any Spatial Medium social media account. Please be sure to add #12daysofspacemaking and tag @spatialmedium so I can see what you post.
