No longer living small…
Within the next few weeks, I will be moving to a 1100 sf house. I’ve thought a lot about the last three years, what I’ve learned here, what I’ve enjoyed, and what I wished for. I’ve gained a different perspective on possessions, but I still had about the same amount of cleaning and at least as much organizing to do small as large. Yes, there was less space to clean, but the things that take the longest still take the same effort–bathrooms and kitchens take about the same time to sanitize whether they are 5×5 or 8×12 or 12×14, and the lack of space meant constant rearranging in order to maintain a clean environment. There is no moving things to the side to clean under them in a 12×26 space.
I’ve enjoyed some things about living in the country, and enjoyed the peacefulness of living very simply at first. Over time, simplicity became more frustrating because I couldn’t maintain the type of organization I needed in order to keep an appearance of ‘simple’, and societal expectations interfered with what my concept of a simple life–having the same clothes to wear every week seems fine until people begin noticing that you are always wearing the same clothes, and comments about my house became somewhat rude and unkind. Still, there were things to learn in those lessons, too, that I’ll remember going forward.
My new house is on the small side for it’s area. I’m very much looking forward to a few things–having a real couch, a closet, and a full, wired internet connection again. Counter space is going to be a luxury, and a full size refrigerator will be very nice to have. And a bathtub. I’ve really missed having a bathtub at times, and more as time went on. I will have a room with exercise equipment in it and room for a yoga mat. I can jump rope in the garage for cardio. And I will be able to bike to the store. So living somewhat bigger should be healthier for me.
What I’ve decided in all of it is that living smaller is nice, but the concept of living in a small house is somewhat a fallacy. I’ve slept in a tiny house for three years. But my real living was done around the house or near the house but not in it. My personality requires some amount of living in a house, some privacy, some personal time. I am not able to simply live around a house or to sleep in a house and then leave it to live. And at least for me, at least in the country, that has not been as possible as I’d hoped it would be. And so I leave the small cabin behind. I’ve learned from the experience, just as I’ll learn from new ones. I won’t regret my time here, but I doubt I’ll miss it, either.