I can still remember sitting there, staring up at the shelf like it had just slapped me in the face.
It had come loose from the wall, and literally fallen on my head. A wiser gal might have taken it for a sign.
It was moving day, and I was trying to find room in our gloriously small cottage for our gloriously large amount of possessions. I began to realize that tiny living wasn’t going to be all cake and party punch.
When we first visited our small house, I fell in love with the idea of tiny living. The space was well-designed. The rent was economical, the house closer to work. I envisioned a simple home would naturally lend itself to a simple life.
We’d pared down a lot in preparation for the move — but even so, with every item we brought over to the new house, the space just kept getting smaller. Panic set in, and then along came panic’s best friend and traveling partner, regret.
With big changes, there’s always that split second of fear, isn’t there? To some degree, whenever we try something new and bold and different, we’re always going to wonder if we’ve made a mistake. The more unconventional the decision, the more room for fear.
And for me, it was the same with tiny living. I started to forget the reasons I wanted a smaller house and focused instead on the immediate problems: Where were the towels going to go now that the shelf was on my head?
But as they normally do, things settled down. I made a few more trips to Goodwill, and I figured out how to remount a shelf, this time with heavy-duty hardware. Eventually, we began to reap the rewards of downsizing, the ones that had faded into obscurity amidst the fear. And life went on, a little bit better than before.
**Have you moved beyond fear to make a big decision? Please leave a reply and tell us about the outcome.**