Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Living small

I often wake up in the middle of the night and worry. I worry about a lot of things. Like my various illnesses (see post below), or I worry about the adoption, or paying bills. As David could tell you, I'm never at a loss for things to worry about. His nickname for me is "Ms. Worst-case-scenario." Nice.

Sometimes, I worry that we're so far behind "where we're supposed to be" at this point in our lives. You know, big house in the burbs, 2.5 kids, minivan, large retirement funds. Then I realize how silly I am. I mean, why try to keep up with the Jones's when the Jones's have already lapped us about 6 times? And is that what I really want, anyway? Or do I just think I want it because that's what I'm supposed to want?

It's all very confusing, and you'd think at this point in my life I'd have a better idea of who I am and what I want. But it's all muddled and mixed up with society's expectations, what my family and friends want for me, and my obsession with competition. I have a drive to compete with everyone around me, and at the same time, I hate competition. More often than not, I'll just let the other person "win" because I don't think I can win anyway. I'd rather just step off the track and drink a Gatorade. It's my way of short-circuiting the whole thing.

So as I see people around me buying bigger houses, popping out more kids, buying more expensive cars, I have this urge to chuck it all and run in the other direction. As David and I cleaned out our rented storage unit last weekend so that we could save $66 a month on the rental fees, I kept wondering why we have so much stuff. We almost came to blows as we were trying to squeeze my cool antique church pew in our little basement storage room. We rearranged boxes of junk that we haven't cracked open for 3 years. Old books, knick-knacks, grade-school papers. When we got married we got rid of tons of stuff, but we still have so much. And it's weighing us down.

So lately I've been thinking maybe we should be really counter-cultural and get rid of everything and be total odd-balls. I want to sell our place and buy a really tiny house, like this. It's one of the tiny homes made by the Tumbleweed House Company.


Then I want to sell our car and buy a minuscule car like this Smart Car.



I want to live small and light. It sort of like traveling to Europe with a backpack instead of a trunk. It will make the journey so much more pleasant and allow us to focus on the scenery.

7 comments:

jerilynn said...

Crazy? Naaaah.... Scott and I decided a long time ago that "the Jones have won" so that we don't have anyone to compete with anymore. :) As pathetic as this sounds, we have filled 2 (yep 2) dumpsters of worthless crap in the past 8 years.... and we are still brimming with the stuff. Hang in there!

Anonymous said...

Your ideas are not crazy. We are in the process of downscaling big time. Within the next 6 months my husband and I are going to purchase at tiny house from this company: http://tortoiseshellhome.com/

We just visited the company and Bill is amazing. http://rowdykittens.com/?p=613

Good luck!

Karen said...

Rowdy Kittens,
Check back and let me know what it's really like living in a tiny house. I'm fascinated with the whole "small house" movement. I love the idea, but I'm wondering about the reality of it....

David said...

We'll get the tiny house, then the tiny car, then have ourselves miniaturized...

David said...

And it aint true we "nearly came to blows". Sheesh. You coldcocked me, I went down for the count then got up and did your bidding, as per usual.

Val said...

I think you're on the right track Karen! I just started doing more serious purging because I've been wondering too what in the world I need much of my stuff for? If it's been sitting in boxes for years, chances are I don't need it. I love your thoughts on all this and love the tiny house idea.

amy wolgemuth bordoni said...

You know I love the way you think. Be sure to tell us where you put your little house so we can be your neighbors.

p.s. David rocks. The worrier can't do any better than to end up with Mr. Nothing-to-Worry-About. Much, much better than a Mr. Jones.