And then suddenly, it happened. Before Christmas, we picked up the keys to our new home. We were away for most of the holidays so I had a few more weeks pretending things weren’t going to change…but here it was, still waiting, when we got back.
After about six weekends of visiting open homes last year, we found this one. It’s an older home that’s been relocated. A bright, open, airy 2 and a bit bedroom house with polished floor boards and a decent sized block. We’ve got room to build a garden, and we’re close enough to town that our bikes won’t be gathering dust. It’s so wonderful and still so surreal.
What now?
The natural question that follows is, so what now for the tiny? The truth is I still don’t really know. I have some ideas, a few of which I outlined in the last blog post. I have, since then, even considered the possibility of selling it. I’m not really sure how you go about making a decision like this. Part of me knows that one house is already a big project. The tiny still needs finishing and this house needs work too – and by my math that’s more than one house. Sometimes I think it’s foolish to hold on to the idea of something, just in case. But on the other hand – it’s not as simple as moving forward with no looking back either.
I’ve put off writing this blog post because I still haven’t quite come to grips with what this means for the tiny. What does this mean for the part of me that swells with pride when I tell people that I live in a tiny house? Who does this make me now? Where does this leave the blog? What do I have to say that’s any different from any other person, doing their best to build something beautiful that brings joy? Tiny go Lightly – the blog and the house, all of it – has been a massive part of my life for the last 3 years. It still is a big part of me. And although everything is changing, in the most important ways, nothing will.
Tiny go Lightly
I will keep writing. This project may be less romantic, less exotic, less appealing to audiences in many ways. I said in an interview a while back that the idea of a 2 bedroom brick house in the suburbs had zero appeal to me. As it turns out, the houses aren’t the things that matter in these situations. It’s how we choose to live and let these places define us. Sean and I have chosen to do this for a certain period of time and in a certain way. It’s not off grid (yet), it’s not hand made and it’s not bucking the system the same way that tiny houses do. But it’s a chance to change things in a different way. And that’s what I’ll keep writing about. I don’t mind if that’s not something you’re interested in. I won’t be upset if this is where our adventure together ends. The photos I’ll be sharing from here on in will reflect a different stage in my life and I’ll cherish them the way I’ve shared every other photo with joy, or sorrow or frustration or amazement. I hope you will too.
Truthfully, there are still chapters to come in Tiny go Lightly’s story. I was ahead of a curve when I moved into my tiny and have watched a movement grow enormously. There are parts of this movement still to come, including the limits of tiny houses and their natural conclusions too. For all of you out there still dreaming and building and preparing for your tiny, don’t dismiss this as a failure or as me giving up. Your tiny journey will shift and evolve too, perhaps more like mine than you may think. I wish you all the best with whatever projects you are undertaking. I hope you gain as much along the way as I have.
With love,
Sarah
