Some Questions Are So Harmless You’re Happy to Answer Them. But Some Will Leave You Speechless...
By Regine Rauin | When Rooms Tell Stories
I like questions.
Not the sort that go:
“How are you?”
The sort you automatically answer with “fine”.
I mean the others.
The questions that make you stop talking for a moment.
The ones that make you realise:
Shit. I’ve never thought about that before.
Those are exactly the kind of questions I used to love asking during my readings from How About a Sheep?
Because sooner or later, the same thing always happened: I asked a question. And suddenly, it went quiet.
Very quiet...
Imagine you are a stranger.
You don’t know yourself.
You walk into your home.
You know nothing about your own story.
You don’t know why you live here.
You don’t know what matters to you.
All you know is what you can see.
So look around.
Not to judge.
Not to tidy up.
Not to buy new cushions.
Just to ask yourself some questions.
1. What would I assume about the person who lives here?
And I mean really.
Not:
“They have lovely taste.”
But:
What kind of person might this be?
2. What seems particularly important to this person?
What gets space?
What is made visible?
What is allowed to stand right in the middle of the room?
3. What does this person seem to prefer not to see?
Can you sense things that had to disappear?
Or do you see corners that are best avoided?
4. Where does this person like spending time most?
And why there?
Is it the most comfortable place?
The quietest?
The brightest?
The only place where nobody wants anything from them?
5. Is there a place in this home where you are simply allowed to do nothing?
No working.
No tidying.
No organising.
No “I could just quickly...”
Just sitting.
6. How easy would it be for people to turn up here spontaneously?
Could someone say tonight:
“I’m in the area. Fancy a glass of wine?”
And would this person think:
“Of course!”
Or:
“Good God. I need to tidy for three hours first.”
7. How much space does work take up in this home?
Not just the desk.
Mentally, too.
Is there actually anywhere where work really ends?
8. How much space does the past take up?
Photographs.
Heirlooms.
Gifts.
Furniture.
Boxes.
Things from old relationships.
Things from old chapters of life.
How much of it says:
“This used to matter.”
9. And how much space does the future get?
That’s an uncomfortable question.
Because the future sometimes needs space.
And space isn’t always created by buying new furniture.
Sometimes it appears when something old is finally allowed to leave.
10. How many minutes a day does this person actually spend doing something that brings them joy?
Not:
“I watch a series in the evening.”
If you love that: wonderful.
But honestly.
How much time actually belongs to them?
11. How often do they really talk to the people they live with?
Not:
“What do we need from the supermarket?”
Not:
“Who’s taking the bins out?”
I mean:
actually talking to each other.
12. When was the last time this person invited someone over spontaneously?
Not for a birthday.
Not planned six weeks in advance.
Just:
“Come over.”
Now let’s talk about YOU:
13. If I could look ten years into the future today – would I still choose this home?
Not because you have to keep it.
But because the question makes one thing visible:
Does this place fit the life I imagine for myself?
14. If I had to move out tomorrow: what would I absolutely take with me?
And what would I surprisingly leave behind?
You can, of course, take this one step further: if there were a fire, what would I grab on my way out?
15. Which things would I not buy today?
And why are they still here?
16. Which corner of my home has been annoying me for years?
And why haven’t I changed it?
That’s a particularly good question.
Because sometimes the answer is:
“Because I haven’t had the time.”
And sometimes:
“Because I didn’t know what I wanted instead.”
And sometimes:
“Because I couldn’t make a decision.”
17. What would I change if nobody else ever had to see it?
No guests.
No Instagram photos.
No mother-in-law.
No property valuation.
Just you.
What would change?
18. Where in my home do I feel most like myself?
And where do I feel least like myself?
Those might be two very interesting places.
19. If your home could speak: what would it complain about?
Now we’re getting to the fun part.
Perhaps:
“Could you please finally get rid of that box?”
Perhaps:
“I’m a dining table. Not a dumping ground for your entire unresolved life.”
Perhaps:
“I’d quite like to be cosy, but you keep putting your laptop on me.”
And perhaps, eventually, your home would say something that isn’t quite so funny anymore.
20. And now the final question:
If my home could answer honestly today – what question would I really like to ask it?
Not the question whose answer would be comforting.
The other one.
The one that makes you think, even as you read it:
“Oh no.”
That one.
Because perhaps that’s the point.
We often go looking for answers. Yet, surprisingly often, we already know exactly which question we need to ask.
We just don’t necessarily want to hear what comes afterwards.
That applies to homes just as much as it does to relationships, work, friendships and our own lives.
And that’s why I love WOHNUNGS-READINGS.
Not because a home hides magical answers. But because it is full of clues. You just have to learn how to notice them. And somehow, you become the detective in your own crime story – and the solution is very well hidden...
in the things you barely notice at all because you’ve been seeing them every single day for ten years.
You can try these questions on your own, by the way.
Give yourself a little time.
No hoover.
No shopping list.
No “I really should...”.
Just walk through your home.
And answer the questions honestly.
Not beautifully.
Not sensibly.
Honestly.
If a question does nothing for you: move on.
If a question annoys you: interesting.
If you have an immediate answer: also interesting.
And if you suddenly go very quiet at one particular question:
Stay there.
You might find something there.
And if you get stuck on one particular spot ...
Then that may be exactly the question for a 27SECONDS Reading.
You have a specific question. You show me a small glimpse of your home. And I look.
Not to explain what your piece of furniture “means”.
But to work with you to discover what answer that space might have waiting for you.
And if you’d rather explore for yourself what happens when you really listen to your home, you can start with WHISPERING WALLS.
Perhaps you’ll get answers. Perhaps just more questions. Be your own detective.
Which question do you wish you had an answer to?
About the Author
I'm Regine Rauin, also known as Mystic Maveress.
I read rooms the way other people read tarot cards.
And every now and then...
...I write a book.
→ Discover the WOHNUNGsREADING
🗝️ Because many of the answers are already living with you.



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