Tiny Life

When I was younger, I wanted to be an 'efficiency expert'. I didn't have an engineer's brain, but I was an environmentalist and an inventor at heart and loved to create things, coming up with better ways to solve problems. I sewed a sleeping bag with strategic zippers so that you didn't have to get out of your cozy cocoon when nature called; I taught solar cooking workshops in Haiti; in my more manic days, I drafted blue prints for a solar powered electric vehicle that would fit into two suitcases you could take on a plane with you so you didn't have to rent a car at the airport.

The ideological efficiency issue became paramount, in my mind, when it came to driving and residing. I saw wasted space as sloppy design. I thought Smart cars were, well, smart, since most trips were made by solo passengers and there was no need to cart around thousands of extra pounds of steel for no reason. I was also fascinated by a trend in eco-living that was starting to emerge of living in small, stand alone spaces. "Tiny houses" appealed to a sense of unconventionality and conscious living--many were built on flatbed trailers to skirt building restrictions and encourage a kind of gypsy mobility ("don't like your neighbors? Pick up and move!" and offered just enough space for one or two people, no more than one would need. Socially responsible. Ecologically sustainable. Wave of the future.

I visit from time to time people who are enamored of efficient living. Some influential figures, like financial guru Mr. Money Mustache who advocates for smart efficient and environmentally responsible living by biking over driving (and if one needs to drive, to do so in a small compact car). and limiting the number of children you have. He also sold a bigger house because of all the 'wasted space' and built a small passive solar house in a suburb of Colorado with just enough space for him, his wife, and his son.  Everything is planned for. Everything has a purpose. Wasted anything is symbolic of the uninformed life. He has been described as a 'benevolent dictator' by reporters. And his blog is incredibly popular, with a loyal following of like-minded engineer, life-optimization type people.

But something shifted when kids came. I don't fit in anymore. My world is no longer efficient. There are extra rooms in our house. Toys are everywhere. I drive to the store, rather than bike like I used to. We have failed in limiting our progeny to the single child, and we buy happy meals in moments of weakness. I have a shed full of crap, and I can't keep up with tracking every financial purchase in a spreadsheet. I have even shopped at Walmart a few times in the past few years.

But you know what? I don't mourn my efficient, planned-out life. It is the best thing that ever happened to me. The wasted rooms in our house we have available for anyone, stranger or friend, who needs a place to stay, and the extra seats at our gigantic dining room table are for guests to join us for dinner. The mess in the family room is a constant reminder of the proverb, "where there are no oxen, the stable is clean, but an abundant harvest is produced by strong oxen." (14:4). Nothing with kids is predictable, though the thought of limiting their existence because of the disruption seems impoverishing.  I try to use some common-sense when it comes to energy usage and sustainability--we still compost, keep the thermostat low, and hang dry our laundry. We will not be financially independent or early-retired anytime soon, but that's ok; the tradeoff is, in my mind, worth it. Our house is full of life and chaos. And there is always room for more.