Try It Tiny is very excited to have a guest writer, Devon Loftus, for this blog post. Devon has incredible insight on the tiny house community and movement. Grab yourself a drink and sit down to read a beautifully written piece about why Devon believes in the ‘tiny life.’
My father was a psych major and worked as a social worker and at halfway houses for years before they shut them down and he continued his path that lead to working with computers back in the 80’s.
It was evident to me at a young age that I acquired his psycho-analytical mind — always wanting to better understand the drive, intention and “why” behind the things we did.
I took AP psych. Started studying in college + eventually changed majors to English where I remained. But the part of me that yearned to better understand people, to tap into dark alleyways and cozy nooks within in the brain never left and never will (sorry, future children + Bri).
So, when people started asking us, “why tiny?” I couldn’t wait to answer. I had thought about this for some time, felt it before I could put words to it. Before vowels formed and consonants made sentences that came together like an inchworm — one body shrug at a time.
So, you can imagine my surprise when the build was over and I learned my “why” was so much bigger than I realized, was so much more complicated than my analytical mind even knew.
And yet, it all made sense.
Because at the bottom of my why, where the soil had been sowed and the marks made, was a value that surfaced.
And that was the choice to be as alive as I possibly could be.
We went tiny for adventure. For the financial freedom that came with it. For the immense amount of spiritual + emotional space, we knew it would come to create.To start this chapter as young adults with a watercolor brush and calligraphy and word-art on old paper with worn out edges.
We wanted to push ourselves. To learn more about ourselves, each other, and what it meant to build a home while still creating the space for adventure. We wanted to meet people along the way, learn new skills, save up for vacations on islands that felt like home. We wanted to meet ourselves as a newly married couple. We wanted to see ourselves fully and truthfully.
And we wanted to be mindful.
A buzz word as of late.
Our definition of mindfulness can and probably will be different than yours or your friends or your family’s. To me, that’s the beauty of language — our own experiences and beliefs are tied into every pen stroke, every rounded curve + every period.
Mindfulness for us meant focusing on values. We wanted to focus on bringing as much truth into our relationship as possible. Having the hard conversations with as much ease and grace as possible, no matter where it initially started. We wanted to create intimacy in a way we had never known. We wanted to focus on creation, a huge value for both of us, and make as much space for it as possible. We wanted to embrace the life/death/life cycle of tangible items we were holding onto while still being honest about what we wanted to keep and not judging why that was. We wanted to work with brands + people that made us laugh, that reminded us of who we are and where we wanted to lead. We wanted to bring in items that helped the environment, that got us closer to our value of wellness, that supported our dreams.
We wanted love, silliness, closeness, experience, challenge + joy.
If I could put into words how full I feel even in the last two months of living together in our tiny home, I would.
But I’m too close to it. Words escape me.
Look at my eyes or my lips or the way my hands float in the air when the breeze jumps on our deck and dances with me and you’ll have your answer.
The truth is, we’ve gotten to this place because of the sacrifices we happily made and because of the challenges we decided to take on.
Life in the tiny house the first two weeks were lost in a puddle of tears, aches, and fears.
But I asked to feel alive.
To be as alive as possible.
And that’s a crucial part of it.
Along with feeling alive came a birthing of creativity and clarity. Things I had previously told myself to-do fell by the wayside.
I found myself chasing cars + dancing with sunsets. I found a heart open that wanted to serve others, reach others, in a way that felt true to myself.
And Moon Cycle was born.
It had been there in my heart and body, carrying it around like an heirloom around my neck — sacred and true — but it grew tiny feet and waving hands and hit the ground running when we found ourselves in our house.
We found ourselves, in our house. We didn’t find the same people we moved in with. We didn’t find the same dreams stacked tightly like our books. We found vividness. Love. And a desire to make a difference.
With the space to do it.
To learn more about Moon Cycle Bakery, head to www.mooncyclebakery.com