I am beginning to wonder about the wisdom of choosing land so close to my parents’ house. I’d really hoped that Dad and I could work together on it, one project we really did together. “Together” doesn’t work when the plans are diametrically opposed though. Dad dreams of huge houses. My dreams are for small homes. What he sees as success I deem to be excess, and what he sees as saving I’ve learned to view as hoarding.
Success. I’m not even sure how I’d define it. I’ve had a career, but that wasn’t success to me. Success for me is to be happy, to look back and be pleased with what I’ve done, to be at peace with who I am, not to make a certain amount of money, accumulate a specified amount of wealth, or achieve certain statuses. But how can I explain that to someone who’s spent his entire life pursuing the second rather than the first?
I’ve read of people who had difficulty with planning and zoning departments and friends with building what they wanted. I’ve known all along that only one person would stand against me in building my small house. Dad. He wants me to be safe. He wants me to be able to sell at any time, at a profit, and to have everything he ever wanted. He thinks I’m making a huge mistake with the land and the size of the house. He sees it all as a waste of money, but he really has no idea.
Dad won’t ever read this, but here’s my dream. A couple acres. Fruit Trees. A small house. Maybe some chickens. Partly off grid. Near enough to family that I can visit, far enough away that they won’t drop in every day. A garden. Herbs. Wildflowers. Natural landscaping. And eventually maybe working from home or owning my own small business, but that part can wait if it has to. A couple acres and a small house would do nicely for now. To me, that’s success.