I was sitting at the counter in my friend’s kitchen on Saturday night. Another friend joined us and we proceeded to fit months of catching up into an hour and a half. It can be done. Wink.
The subject of our cabin came up, as it often does in conversation these days, especially the five-people-living-in-665-square-feet part. In the course of words, both of these friends shook their heads and said something along the lines of,”I’m glad it’s you and not me.”
And you know what?
That’s okay.
Living small is not for everyone. I would never want to assume or promote that our lifestyle is the perfect prescription for all of humanity. I mean, where would we be without Fallingwater, Monticello, or even Biltmore?
Instead, I want to offer a counterpoint to the widely-seeded assumption that more is better; that bigger is best; that you have to nurture a lifetime of striving to attain some lofty kind of material ideal which could, in the end, be more empty than full. I want to present, for those who may wonder, that contentment, fulfillment, and purpose can be found with smaller and less. It doesn’t mean that you have to, or that it’s the only place in which it can be found; it simply means that you can.
It’s possible.
After all, there are five people in this little house who really do say of their 665 square feet, “This is the best house we’ve ever had!”
