Guides · Levels · 18 min read · Updated September 2026

Levels, ceilings and floors

The third dimension. The tradition reads a step down as a pool, a low ceiling as a beam, a loft as a hill and a basement as the ground itself. What it asks of houses on more than one level, and what the studies of ceiling height found.

Oriented SW 228°

Earth

Fig. 01 Sunlight down a concrete stair. A change of level is a change of room, and the tradition reads each level as a different kind of ground.

Most of feng shui is drawn in plan, because the sites it was written for were flat courtyards on a hillside and the houses on them had one floor. A modern house has a section too: a living room three steps down, a loft under the roof, a bedroom in a basement, a ceiling that slopes. The manuals have rules for each, and the rules are the plan’s rules turned on their side. This guide draws a house cut through and reads it level by level.

The house in section

Fig. 01 A house cut through. On the left, a living room half a metre below the main floor: the tradition reads a step down as a pool, and a sunken room as a place where qi settles, which suits a room for sitting and not a room for sleeping. In the middle, the main level and its stair. On the right, a loft under a sloping roof over the kitchen, with the bed under the high side of the ceiling and off the stove’s line, and a ghosted bed under the eave and over the stove, where the manuals will not put a sleeper. Below, a basement: below ground, dark and yin, which the tradition keeps for storage and the research keeps for anything but sleep. Heights are the usual ones: 2.4 m for the main rooms, 2.9 m in the sunken room because the floor dropped, and under 2 m at the loft’s eave. The tradition’s ideal ceiling is neither low nor cavernous, and the studies on ceiling height agree with it from the other side.

The tradition’s section is the site’s: ground below, sky above, and the house between them at the height the armchair gives it, with the hill behind higher than the water in front. A house is read as well-sited when it sits a little above its approach, and a room is read as well-placed when it sits at the level the body expects. Everything that departs from that, a drop, a loft, a cellar, a ceiling that presses or vanishes, is read as a change in the ground, and the ground is what the tradition is about.

Ceilings

The tradition reads height as yang and lowness as yin, and wants neither in excess. A ceiling that presses is read as a beam is read, a weight over the head that the body does not stop noticing; a ceiling too high for the room is read as cold, a hall in which nothing settles. The manuals’ ideal is the ceiling the body does not think about, which in most houses is between 2.4 and 3 metres, higher in the rooms where people gather and lower where they sleep.

Fig. 02 Three ceilings and one person, drawn in section. A: a low ceiling at 2.2 m, the height of an attic bedroom or a study, which the tradition reads as yin and enclosing and which suits the close, concrete work the priming study found under it. B: the usual 2.6 m, the ceiling the body does not think about. C: a high ceiling at 3.4 m, the height of an old hall or a gathering room, which the tradition reads as yang and under which the same study found people thinking in more abstract terms. Neither extreme is a fault. The tradition asks that the height suit the use, high where people gather and low where they sleep and concentrate, and that a house have both; the studies on ceiling height, which primed freedom under high ceilings and confinement under low ones, agree from the other side.

The three ceilings in the drawing are the three the tradition names, with the same person standing under each. Under 2.2 metres the room is yin, enclosing, a bedroom or a study, and the head has less than half a metre of air above it. At 2.6 the ceiling is the one the body does not think about, which is what most rooms want. At 3.4 the room is yang, a hall or a gathering room, and the air above the head is more than the head’s own height. The tradition asks that a house have all three in their places; the research adds that a low ceiling suits the concrete task and a high one the abstract, which is a reason to write under the low one and talk under the high.

Sunken rooms and split levels

A living room a few steps below the hall is the sunken room the manuals accept: a pool for sitting, with the sofa against the wall that the step makes, so that the drop is at the sitters’ front and not their back. What the tradition dislikes is the house that changes level at random, a step up to the kitchen, two steps down to a bedroom, a landing between, so that no floor is the floor. Its reading is that unsettled ground makes unsettled people; the designer’s is that each level should read as a room and not as a hazard, which means a step where the room changes and not in the middle of one.

Lofts and sloping ceilings

A bedroom under the roof has the ceiling the tradition worries about most, because it is low where it meets the eave and the bed must go somewhere. The rule is the drawing’s: the head of the bed under the high side, where there is room to sit up, and the low side for the wardrobe, the chest or nothing; the desk, if there is one, under the highest point or under the dormer. A bed with its head under the eave, the ghosted one, has a beam over the sleeper’s face by another name, and the beams and corners guide gives the remedy, which is to move the bed.

1The bed, its head on the gable wall and the whole bed in the band over two metres
2The ghosted bed along the eave, the sleeper’s head under one and a half metres: a beam by another name
3The desk under the dormer, where the roof is cut and the height is full to the window
4The wardrobe and the low cupboards in the band under one and a half metres, the eave storage
5The stair, arriving at the gable end with two metres of headroom over every tread
6The ridge line, the room’s one full-height axis; the tradition’s hill, and the place to stand

Plan 03 A room under the roof, in plan A bedroom of six metres by four under a double-pitched roof, drawn with the head-height contours that a section would show and a plan usually hides. The ridge runs along the room’s long axis and the ceiling falls to both eave walls, to a metre where it meets them. The dashed lines are the heights: two metres, inside which a person stands, and one and a half, inside which a person sits. Everything the room asks is a matter of which band a thing is in. The bed stands with its head on the gable wall, under the ridge, entirely inside the two-metre band, so that the sleeper can sit up and nothing slopes over their face; the ghosted bed along the eave, which is where the room seems to invite a bed because the wall is long, puts the sleeper’s head under the one-and-a-half-metre line, which the tradition reads as a beam by another name and the sleeper reads as a ceiling they hit. The desk is under the dormer, where the roof has been cut and the height is full to the window, which is the one place in the low band where a person can sit at a table. The wardrobe and the low cupboards take the rest of the low band, which is the eave storage every loft conversion ends up with. The stair arrives at the gable end, where the roof is highest, because the regulations ask two metres over every tread, and a loft stair that arrives under the slope fails it. The ridge is the room’s one full-height axis: the tradition’s hill, and the line a person walks.

The plan above draws what the section says in the only form a person furnishing the room can use, the head-height contours. Under a double-pitched roof the ceiling falls from the ridge to a metre at each eave wall, and two lines matter: two metres, inside which a person stands, and one and a half, inside which a person sits, and every piece of furniture belongs to one band or the other. The bed goes with its head on the gable wall, under the ridge, entirely in the standing band, so that the sleeper can sit up; the bed the room invites, along the long eave wall, puts the sleeper’s head under the sitting line, which is the beam by another name. The desk goes under the dormer, where the roof has been cut and the height is full to the window, which is the one place in the low band where anyone can sit at a table; the wardrobe and the low cupboards take the rest of the low band, which is what every loft conversion’s eave storage is. The stair arrives at the gable end, where the roof is highest, and this is regulation and not tradition: Approved Document K asks two metres of headroom over every tread and landing, and allows a loft conversion 1.9 metres at the centre of the stair and 1.8 at its side, so that a loft stair that arrives under the slope is a stair that fails its inspection. The ridge is the room’s one full-height axis, the tradition’s hill and the line a person walks, and a loft that has been furnished across it, with the bed athwart the ridge and the wardrobe under it, has been furnished against the roof.

Basements

Below ground is yin in the plainest sense: dark, cool, damp and still, the qualities the tradition gives to the earth itself. It uses basements for what belongs to the earth, storage, cellars, workshops, and keeps sleeping above ground, where a window gives the sleeper the morning. Where a basement room must be lived in, the manuals ask for light, dry air, a ceiling as high as can be had, and the bed away from the retaining wall.

1The light well in front, its window also the way out: a third of a square metre clear, the sill under 1.1 m
2The bed with its head on the inner wall, the hall behind it and the window before it, away from the earth
3The ghosted bed against the retaining wall, the sleeper’s head to the cold and the damp
4The desk under the window, the one place with daylight, the well’s wall painted pale to send it in
5The extract fan on the retaining wall and the dehumidifier beside it: the damp measured, not smelt
6The radon sump under the corner and the membrane under the floor, where the gas comes from the ground

Plan 04 A basement bedroom, in plan A basement room of five metres by four with the earth on two sides behind retaining walls, a light well cut into the front, and the hall and the stair up on the fourth side, drawn as the tradition and the regulations would both furnish it. The light well is the room’s one source of daylight and, since a basement bedroom must have a way out that is not the stair, its window is the escape window: the regulations ask a clear opening of a third of a square metre, no dimension under 450 millimetres and the sill no higher than 1.1 metres, and the well itself must be climbable. The bed stands with its head on the inner wall, the wall to the hall, which is warm, dry and behind it, with the window before it; the ghosted bed against the retaining wall is the one the room invites, since the long wall is there, and it puts the sleeper’s head against a metre of cold earth, which the tradition reads as sleeping in the ground and a thermometer reads as the coldest, dampest surface in the house. The desk is under the window, the only place a page gets daylight, and the well’s wall is painted pale to send more of it in. The extract fan is on the retaining wall and the dehumidifier beside it, with a meter, since the damp the guidelines warn of is measured and not smelt. The radon sump is under the corner with the membrane under the floor, because the gas comes from the ground and a basement is where it collects. Every item is the tradition’s reluctance to sleep below ground turned into a room that can be slept in.

Where the room must be a bedroom, the plan above gives it, with the earth on two sides behind the retaining walls and the hall on the fourth. The light well cut into the front is the room’s only daylight and, by regulation, its way out: Approved Document B asks a bedroom below ground to have an escape window with a clear opening of a third of a square metre, no dimension under 450 millimetres and the sill no higher than 1.1 metres, and a well outside it that can be climbed, and a basement bedroom without one has a protected stair or is not a bedroom. The bed stands with its head on the inner wall, the wall to the hall, which is dry, warm and solid behind the sleeper, with the window before them, which is the command position below ground; the bed the room invites, along the long retaining wall, puts the sleeper’s head against a metre of cold earth, which the tradition reads as sleeping in the ground and a thermometer reads as the coldest and dampest surface in the house, where the condensation forms. The desk goes under the window, the one place a page gets daylight, and the well’s wall is painted pale. The extract fan is on the retaining wall with the dehumidifier beside it and a meter on the wall, since the damp of the guidelines is a relative humidity above sixty per cent and is measured and not smelt; the radon sump is under the corner with the membrane under the floor, for the reason the next section gives. A basement bedroom furnished this way is the tradition’s reluctance turned into a room that can be slept in; the same room with the bed against the earth, no well and a closed door is the room the studies compared against.

What the ground gives a basement

The tradition kept sleeping above ground and gave the earth its storage, and the research adds two things the ground gives off that the manuals could not name. The first is radon, the gas that seeps from soil and rock into the lowest rooms of a house and collects where the air is still, which the World Health Organization’s handbook of 2009 names as the second cause of lung cancer after smoking and gives a reference level for, a hundred becquerels per cubic metre, above which a house should be ventilated or sealed from below; the basement and the ground floor are where it is highest, a bedroom below ground is the worst room in the house for it, and a monitor for it costs less than a night in a hotel. The second is damp, which the same organization’s guidance on mould, cited by the bathroom page, finds behind the respiratory effects of living in a wet room, and a room below ground is wet by the ground’s pressure unless it is tanked. Neither is in the manuals and both are in their rule: the earth is for what belongs to the earth, and the sleeper goes above it, with a window and the morning. A reader who has a basement bedroom and no choice has three things to do, which the air guide gives in general: a radon test, an extractor that runs, and the door open by day; a reader who has the choice has the tradition’s answer already.

Floors

The tradition reads floors by their element and their level. Wood floors are Wood, warm and yang; stone and tile are Earth, cool and still, wanted in kitchens and bathrooms and disliked in bedrooms, where the manuals want something the foot can land on in the dark; carpet is Earth made soft. A floor should be level, dry and whole, and the classical house sat on a raised platform for that reason, its hall a step above the courtyard and the courtyard a step above the street. The modern version is a threshold: the house a little higher than its approach, so that the ground the door opens onto is ground and not a drain.

Checklist

Ceilings the body does not notice: higher where people gather, lower where they sleep
A sunken room for sitting, never for sleeping or cooking; the step at the room’s threshold
No random changes of level; a step where the use changes, lit, with a rail at a drop
Under a sloping roof, the bed’s head under the high side; the desk under the highest point
No bed over a stove
Basements for storage; a basement room that must be lived in gets light, dry air and height
Floors level, dry and whole; stone in the wet rooms, wood or carpet where feet land in the dark
The house a little above its approach, and the ground draining away from it