A Tiny Move
A Tiny Move
I remember reading an article about a local couple living in a tiny house. It was watercooler talk in the office at work and I recall someone asking me if I could ever do that. “Oh I could never do that!” I said at the time.
Less than five years later, here I sit on the couch of our tiny house, which boasts plenty of natural light, more space than we need, a composting toilet, a washer/dryer combo, and glorious sunrise views that we enjoy from a panoramic window in our bedroom every morning.
I wouldn’t change a thing, and I don’t know that person who said “heck no” to tiny living a few years ago. She didn’t know what she was missing. She was caught in the interia of what was comfortable.
A tiny move is an idyllic dream to those who can separate themselves from a mountain of personal belongings. It is a scary prospect to those of us who have a difficult time parting with our items. We invest a lot of sentiment into objects, which I have come to find as a bizarre phenomenon (and am totally guilty of being part of it).
Minimalist living was something Tim and I both needed to prepare for – and purge for – with months of details to iron out ahead of moving. I will be the first to admit that I struggled to part with books I had not yet read, kitchen items we didn’t need in a smaller space, and random stuff.
Despite getting rid of half my clothes, I somehow still ended up with way too many clothes for a tiny house. We come from a part of the country that has four distinct seasons, so there are definitely clothing items I cannot get rid of just because of the current climate.
There is plenty left to purge. After getting rid of what I thought was a lot, the remaining belongings piling up in a somewhat organized array totally stresses me out.
The move itself was also a process. In the weeks ahead, I made a few trips to my parents’ house, where a few items will stay in the meantime (like a bed, bed frame, TV mount that I got for free with Best Buy credit card points, and a few other items that are useful only in a larger house).
Upon moving these belongings into my childhood room for storage, I discovered several bins full of stuff from high school that I didn’t know were still there. Oh. My. Goodness. Facepalm.
My mom and I threw out four full garbage bags of things, and that was only half of it! I wanted to leave knowing that all of my belongings could fit in our tiny house. Time and energy did not permit, but I expect to return and throw out a heck of a lot more forgotten stuff.
I packed my Jeep full with essentials that stayed there for a few days while I finished my last week at work and stayed with family. My mom and I hit the road for a multi-day trip, ending at the tiny house.
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