We have officially started the downsizing process. Our Sechelt house is rented and when we come up to visit and to do maintenance we’ll be staying in the back cabin.
As I was pounding a few nails in the walls to hang up our two towels, a couple of shirts and other basic cabin clothes, I found myself grinning like a crazy woman.
It reminded me of when we first moved to Sechelt in 1998; we had sold our 3800 sq ft home and, in a major downsizing, moved to our new seaside home, which was then a 625 sq ft cottage. It was perfectly derelict and the kind of place that encouraged sand on the rugs and nails bashed into the wall whenever I needed a place to hang a straw hat or a walking stick.
Time went by, and like coral, we accreted layers of stuff and expanded and grew…
First Kevin’s son moved in, we built the back cabin as a boy’s bedroom (pictured above), and then later, after he’d moved on, my nephew moved in. We added on to the main house; added another bathroom, another bedroom, another floor (!) painted and tiled, we acquired more clothes for when we went to the city.
More time went by and we found ourselves spending more of our time in our Vancouver apartment than here by the seaside.
So, now we’ve rented out the main house for most of 2013 and we’re back to our beginnings in the garden cabin. One pair of jeans, a few T-shirts, a hat for gardening and oh-my, I remember what I loved about this whole experience. Luckily, the renter is a lovely friend and we will occasionally visit so we can play in the dirt and do any maintenance that’s required.
It is all part of an experiment. We’re trying to figure things out. One thing seems apparent. We want to live smaller and are looking at downsizing the city apartment as well.
There are a few questions to consider. Should we stay in our apartment? Should we sell it and find something smaller? Are we even going to stay in the city? Or will we miss this place so much that we’ll leave the city for the seaside again? We don’t know and that is part of the beauty of this arrangement…the unknowingness.
Of course, some might call us flakes, but hey, we kind of like that particular label.
I used to feel the need for answers. Occasionally, I still wish I knew what we were doing. But as I grow older I’m finding it more interesting to set things in motion and watch the unfolding possibility of what might be. There might be a path we haven’t even considered.
Meanwhile, I’m looking forward to coming back to our new tiny patch of the world whenever we can.