Oldest Room

A long time ago, when everyone was a farmer, people lived in small houses. These homes had one main room.

Simple.

Practical.

Just like life itself.

In that room, they did everything. They ate, slept, washed clothes, played games, and talked. The only thing they didn’t do inside was relieve themselves. That was reserved for the outside.

What did they call this room? It was known as the HALL.

You might recognize that word. We still use it today: town hall, banquet hall, lecture hall. But originally, the hall was just a single room where everyone gathered.

So, what happened to it? Eventually, I imagine the farmer’s wife (wives, it was a different time don’t hate the messenger) grew tired of kids running around while they prepared food.

The kitchen was the first room to be separated.

As more rooms were added—bedrooms, dining rooms—the hall lost its significance. It transformed into a narrow passage, a hallway.

Now, modern hallways are often cluttered. They store coats and shoes, leading us from one room to another, from one task to the next. Once, the hallway was the heart of the home. Now, it is merely a transition.

But perhaps we can learn from this evolution. The hallway represents the space between what was and what will be. It reminds us that life is not just about the rooms we occupy but also about the paths we take to get there.

In our busy lives, we often overlook these hallways. They can feel like mere passages, yet they hold potential. These spaces can be for reflection, for pausing to gather our thoughts. In the hallway, we can reassess our paths and prepare for what lies ahead.

Just as the hall once served as the center of activity, our transitions can be vibrant moments, too.

They can be filled with anticipation and clarity.

So, the next time you find yourself in a hallway—whether physical or metaphorical—take a moment. Breathe. Reflect. Appreciate the connections that lead you forward. In those spaces, you may find the essence of your journey. Embrace them.