My Pearl


Well, my “tomorrow” came and went and I still couldn’t conquer my second bird. Here I am, two weeks later, after sweating over drafts and drafts, still not sure how to start this thing. But, instead of trying to craft the perfect real “first post” of this blog, I’ve just decided to hell with it all, skip the rules of blog-land, and just keep writing something that may not be exactly introductory. So, here is bird number two. (If you aren’t sure what birds I am referring to, check out my first blog post here).

I have never been able to understand the hold that stuff has on people. I have been a minimalist all my life. It has helped that I grew up in a smallish house with six people and I had to share a room and closet with my twin sister. It also helped that we were trained from a young age to go through our toys and clothes on a regular basis to purge what we no longer needed or wanted.

I grew up in a religious home and went to church regularly. One Bible story that really stuck out to me as a child was the story of a man who sold all of his possessions in order to buy a pearl. And he was so happy with just that one pearl. I took that story literally, instead of seeing it as the parable it is. I remember I used to lay in my bed and look at my shelves with all of my stuff and imagine them empty, gleaming in glossy white clean paint, with only a gigantic beautiful pearl sitting there. It seemed like such a beautiful fantasy to live so simply, to need so little, and to own such a beautiful item.

Even when I played Barbies, I remember I would graciously give my sister our large wooden dollhouse all to herself, and instead create a tiny cabin out of Lincoln Logs just wide enough for my Barbie to sit end-to-end in. Giving my Barbie this life, where she slept in a sleeping bag and owned practically nothing, seemed like such a romantic lifestyle to me.

When I first heard about the tiny house movement from a dear friend a few years ago, I was immediately enthralled. I researched and hunted information with a newfound obsession. This was my new dream! This was the life I wanted for myself! A house of my own, something beautiful and unique, something small, and something that would allow/force me into the lifestyle I have always desired.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, that dream became reality. In May of 2015, we moved into our very own tiny house. Here's a picture to pique your interest. Next time I will share with you more on that story and how it all came to happen.