Idea | Highly Sensitive Havens
Imagine arriving in an unfamiliar town and heading straight to the local Highly Sensitive Haven, tucked away on a quiet side street a gentle walk from the busier commercial streets. You’ve arrived a day early for a holiday vacation with your extended family, and want to settle in on your own before you venture out to meet with anyone.
A small, unobtrusive sign beside a gate in a stone wall tells you you’re in the right place. The door in the gate is richly decorated and solid, heavy as you push against it. You’ve been disoriented by your long journey. Your heart still beats faster than usual from being alone in unfamiliar surroundings since you arrived at the airport. But the moment you step into the shaded courtyard, into the haven designed with you in mind, all your senses tell you that, even though you’ve never been here before, you’re home.
Trees arch overhead, white lanterns swaying from their branches. A few people sit at tables in the dappled sunlight, bundled in coats and hats against the autumn afternoon coolness. A few people glance up at you, but not for long. Most people sit alone at the small tables, writing or reading. All of the people you see seem contained. Even the two women who laugh and talk in the corner do so in hushed voices.
On the right side of the courtyard, a stately old building beckons with a door painted a dark red. You head that way, your heavy luggage banging against your weary legs. Before you reach the doorway, a man steps out to greet you. He smiles a silent welcome and helps you take your bags inside. In the warm reception area, the man introduces himself and then directs you to a cozy corner suite on the third floor, a private space with a fireplace and windows full of trees.
An hour or so later, when you feel up to it, you return to the reception area downstairs with the itinerary and annotated map your sister sent you. Help, you think, worried all the planned activities will be too much and you’ll disappoint your family by showing up physically but not being present. You take another look at the schedule of events planned for the next day. Way too many social activities for you. No matter how much you love your family, you know you’ll tire of being around them well before the day’s events conclude.
The same man who greeted you before listens to your plight then ushers you to a seating area in a nook on the far side of the room. You gratefully sink into a comfortable chair. He sits in the chair across from you and begins to ask questions, listening attentively as you haltingly try to describe what you want help with. Deftly, he extracts your wishes for your visit from you. After fifteen minutes of conversation, it’s obvious that your desires for your trip are actually quite different from your family’s. As you realize and accept this, you take in a huge breath and release it, welcoming back the lost bits of yourself that didn’t travel as fast as the plane. You start to feel whole again and calmer.
The kind man suggests a number of places around town he thinks you might find intriguing, based on what you’ve told him you’re interested in—an exhibit on the history of botanical drawings at the town’s museum of natural history, a well-curated bookstore tucked inside the curve of a small alleyway in the old town, an award-winning gluten-free restaurant. He shows you a phone app that makes local transit simple to figure out, and encourages you to pick and choose the family events you most want to attend and bow out of anything unappealing. You nod and stand up, satisfied. You don’t have to fake your smile of gratitude.
After unpacking in your suite, you light the fire in the fireplace and order a room-service dinner from the Haven’s restaurant, which you eat slowly while reading the much-anticipated book you saved to begin upon arrival. The delicious meal makes you want to live full-time at the Haven. Later, comforted by quietude, all-natural bedding, and the individual climate-controlled temperature of the suite, you to sink into a much-needed restful sleep.
By the time you leave the Haven the next morning, you’re excited to reunite with family members you haven’t seen in a while, some of them not in a long while. Your printout of the family’s vacation itinerary in your front pocket sports green highlighter swipes of the day’s events you’ve decided to participate in. You’ve chosen to leave scattered hours throughout the day free to go off on your own alone—to wander, enjoy a meal, or return to the Haven for a while and regroup. The planned forays of socializing seem fun since you know you have a home away from home like the Haven to return to, a place where you’re understood and given the space to be yourself.
The sun shines bars of light across the reception area carpet. Murmurs of conversation float through the air from guests at breakfast in the little cafe. The stress of yesterday’s journey, counterbalanced by the Haven’s warm welcome and a smooth transition, dissipates and fades. You feel safe and ready.
Out the front door and into the courtyard you go. On your way past the scattered tables, you nod to someone who looks up from drawing on a sketchpad in quick strokes. A few people simply sit, seemingly content to soak up the peaceful atmosphere. You sense that you’re among friends, even if you don’t know their names.
At the gate of the Haven, you consult the transit app once more, then tuck your phone away. Your strides as you step through the gate out into the streets of the town are bold and strong.
It’s time to explore.
The Photo Above | White Lanterns
My favorite restaurant is St. Ottilien, located in the forest above the city of Freiburg, Germany. The view from the restaurant's courtyard during the warm seasons, under the trees and the white lanterns, spans a deep green valley and the hills across the way. The steep uphill walk to St. Ottilien make the already amazing meals more rewarding.
I'll meet you there for an early dinner at a table on the patio. We don't have to talk.
Photo by Grace Kerina
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Grace Kerina is the author of Personal Boundaries for Highly Sensitive People and other resources for quiet people. She has more than twenty years of experience helping writers and other creators find their true voices. Get her free ebook 7 Liberating Life Hacks for Highly Sensitive People when you subscribe to her newsletter. She also writes novels as Alice Archer.