Wanting Less

So far, the journey to our tiny house dream has been all in our minds. When I say dream, I mean just that.  Living in a tiny house is not just going to be cool. It will mean freedom from a huge mortgage, freedom from having the need to accumulate stuff, freedom to pursue other aspirations that cost money that would otherwise be spent on housing and utilities, freedom to spend more time with our children, and the list goes on and on. The more we plan and dream, the more the dream becomes a reality. We're now set to take action. Our plan includes nailing down a floor plan, pre-purchasing items to go into the tiny home, speaking with builders who can build the initial structure, researching by-laws, putting the word out to potential landowners looking to rent or lease land, and so on. Here is what we have so far. We have settled on a floor plan and we will be ordering the official plans shortly. We have a line on a couple of builders that we can order structures from to be built o

In minds crammed with thoughts, organs clogged with toxins, and bodies stiffened with neglect, there is just no space for anything else. - Alison Rose Levy I haven't had much room to breathe over the last several weeks; and, in many ways, I only have myself to blame.  I'm just terrible at taking care of myself.  Spoiler alert readers: I'm about to get real . If you don't know me well, you are about to; and, this absolutely terrifies me. I'm not sure how it all began.  For as long as I can remember, I haven't been able to relax, truly relax, my mind, body, or spirit.  My muscles are tight and sore much of the time. My shoulders sit just below my ears as if I'm a tiger ready to pounce.  Getting a massage makes me feel guilty because I worry about how hard the therapist would need to work to get through the stiff clenched sinew of my shoulders, back and legs.  My brain works overtime thinking of every possible scenario regardless of how important it may

When I was a little girl, we traveled a lot.  We'd take my dad's 1980 Chevy Chevette all over the Northwest United States.  In those days, seat belt laws were lax and my folks would put my sleeping bag and a pillow on top of our luggage in the hatchback.  I'd lay there and look up at the stars repeating the same rhyme over and over: Starlight, star bright,  First star I see tonight,  I wish I may,  I wish I might,  Have the wish I wish tonight... Inevitably, I would wish to be a princess with fancy gowns and a beautiful palace.  I'd smile and curtsy knowingly to my adoring subjects.  "Oh, thank you," I'd say as they lavished compliments about my attire or plush decor...  My wishes and dreams evolved over the years, as maturity allowed. A university education was beyond my grasp; but, I worked hard and had the opportunity to move up in my career at a time when experience was valued as much as education.  Life, of course, had other plans.  Mike and I

I crave silence. I miss stillness. Perhaps it is because I have moved from the prairies to the bustling city thousands of kilometers away; or, maybe it is just my age. I cannot remember a time where I sat in utter peace, able to focus on each breath. For some, it may be as spiritual an experience as meditation, for others just a welcome reprieve. To me, it is oxygen. I need to be able to breathe again. My husband, Mike, and I have been married nearly 16 years. We've lived in several cities, always hoping to find that better job, better salary, better life. We're in our very late 30's and have never owned a home. Our children have never truly had a back yard of their own or a place to really put down roots. We've always thought it was because we needed more. More money usually. We've tried to fill the void in our hearts and minds from self-doubt and childhood trauma with gadgets, trinkets, toys, (and food; but, that's another matter for another blog