{"id":88702,"date":"2011-06-20T04:00:14","date_gmt":"2011-06-20T11:00:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/getrichslowly.org\/blog\/?p=88702"},"modified":"2023-09-23T11:01:41","modified_gmt":"2023-09-23T17:01:41","slug":"big-house-little-house","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.getrichslowly.org\/big-house-little-house\/","title":{"rendered":"Big house, little house"},"content":{"rendered":"

I am constantly changing. While many people are much the same today as they were yesterday (or last week or twenty years ago), I’m always evolving. This isn’t necessarily good or bad \u2014 it’s just who I am. Some of my friends think I’m fickle. I get that. (Kris tells me that I go through “phases”.) I prefer to view this constant change as growth. I don’t want<\/i> to be the same person tomorrow as I am today. I enjoy the evolution.<\/p>\n

But this continued growth creates complications. For one thing, it’s difficult for the Present Me to predict what the Future Me will like. Sometimes I’m right \u2014 but sometimes I’m wrong. (It’s not just me. Happiness expert Daniel Gilbert says that people are surprisingly bad at guessing what will bring them joy<\/a>.)<\/p>\n

Related:<\/b><\/i> Last November, I wrote about how tough it is for the Present You to make plans for the Future You<\/a>.<\/div>\n

Over the past couple of years, a variety of forces have been acting on my mind, subtly forcing me in new directions. (Mental glaciation!) I’ve been traveling. I’ve been reading. I’ve been talking to folks with unconventional lives<\/a>. Pressure has been building. Then, earlier this month, the World Domination Summit burst things open. Now I find that I’m eager to shake up my current life and try something new.<\/p>\n

I want to meet new people and see how they live. I want to see natural wonders \u2014 and man-made wonders, too. I want to try new food. I want jump out of airplanes and swim with the sharks, trek over mountains and get lost in the jungle. (But not too<\/i> lost.) I want to taste the world.<\/b><\/p>\n

And so, I came home one night last week and announced, “I don’t want to live here anymore.”<\/p>\n

<\/span>Dream House<\/span><\/h2>\n

Kris and I own an 1800-square-foot farmhouse set on two-thirds of an acre. Our land is park-like: We’re surrounded by trees and shrubs, and we’ve spent the past eight years building a food-producing garden<\/a> filled with herbs, vegetables, berry canes, and fruit trees. Despite the rural feel, our home is located in a typical suburban neighborhood about fifteen minutes from downtown Portland, which makes the place unique. (“I’ve never<\/i> seen a property like this,” our real-estate agent told us when we first toured the house.)<\/p>\n

\"Rosings<\/div>\n

When we bought this house in 2004, it was my dream home. I fell in love with it instantly. I’d always wanted to live in an old farmhouse, a place with charm and character. I was so emotionally invested in the house that I was willing to make a poor financial decision to buy it. (Thus setting into motion the course of events that would lead to my financial nadir and, eventually, the creation of Get Rich Slowly.)<\/p>\n

Over the years, though, the house has become less of an oasis and more of a chore. Today, it seems like a burden. Yes, the yard is beautiful, but it requires constant maintenance. I’d rather be writing than pruning shrubs. And ninety minutes to mow the lawn? Ugh.<\/i> Plus, the house itself seems too big for two people \u2014 even with all of our Stuff<\/a>. We have whole rooms we rarely use. In short, this is no longer my dream house.<\/p>\n

I’ve made oblique references to this problem for years now<\/a>. (And sometimes, in the comments, the references have been decidedly non<\/i>-oblique.) But until recently, my discontent has never taken any form other than mumbling. Now, though, I feel moved to action.<\/p>\n

<\/span>No Quick Fix<\/span><\/h2>\n

Unfortunately, it’s not easy to simply say “I don’t want to live here anymore” and move on to someplace new. Selling (or buying) a home is a huge undertaking. There are many things to consider.<\/p>\n

For one, I’m not sure what I really want. I know what I don’t<\/i> want \u2014 which is this house \u2014 but I’m not sure where I’d rather live. An apartment? A smaller house? In the country? In the city? It’s tough to choose something different when you don’t actually know what you want.<\/p>\n

Also, the Stuff is still an issue. Yes, I’ve been slowly purging things for the past four years, but I still have way too much. I still feel overwhelmed. (This is primarily because my definition of “needs” keeps shrinking. I mean, I can live out of a single carry-on suitcase for a month when I travel. Why do I need rooms filled with Stuff when I’m home?) If we’re going to move, I don’t want to take all of this with me.<\/p>\n

Note:<\/b><\/i> One idea that appeals to me: Move to a smaller place, but only take the bare essentials. Then, for six months (or a year or whatever), whenever we need something from the old house, move it over. At the end of six months, sell whatever hasn’t been moved and sell the old house.<\/div>\n

And, of course, there are financial ramifications. Does it really make sense to sell in this market? I’m fortunate to be in a position that allows me to work from anywhere. Kris has a job that she loves, though, and it’s tied to a specific location. How do we account for this? (Also, what about the costs of my proposed travel?)<\/p>\n

But the biggest reason Kris and I don’t just pick up and move to someplace smaller is that she still loves our home. This is<\/i> her dream house. I’ve changed; she hasn’t. I may be unhappy here, but she’d be unhappy moving elsewhere \u2014 especially when I don’t even know what it is I want.<\/p>\n

Thus, there’s no quick fix to this situation. I remain discontented.<\/p>\n

<\/span>Stumbling Toward Happiness<\/span><\/h2>\n

I’m not sure what we’ll do in the long-term. This isn’t one of those posts where I describe a problem and then share a solution. We haven’t found<\/i> a solution. Instead, after a couple of talks, Kris and I have decided on some stop-gap measures:<\/p>\n