A Tiny Start Towards Freedom

The few morning rays crossing over the horizon were enough to fill the space with light and wake me from a deep slumber. The moon sinking in the sky was the first thing catching my eye as I took a long breath and held it in my lungs. This is not a dream anymore, I reassured myself, looking down the long loft space into the living area of my tiny house. A swarm of butterflies rose in my stomach as I quickly pushed away the comforter and pulled a pair of clothes from a nearby bin before descending the ladder.

Stretching in the open space, I caught sight of the sun lifting above the ocean waves as the tide started its journey towards the grassy area where my tiny house rested. I chose this location a year ago while looking through real estate properties online. The ocean view from a scant spot of land was just enough. It was an amazing year that had finally resulted in this unbelievable view.

It was exhilarating not worrying about closing the bathroom door as I quickly showered and changed. I pulled down the mirror attached to the side of the miniscule window overlooking the sand dunes. It was hard focusing on my make-up with the breathtaking view of the ocean stretched before me. It tempted me to travel towards the sandy shore but as I looked up into the sky, the sun was no longer present as the rays were obscured by rolling black clouds looming in the distance.

“It can’t all be perfect,” I said to myself, truly ready to start this new journey. It took just a few feet from the bathroom to be positioned inside the kitchen. Cracking a window in order to enjoy the sounds of the ocean before the storm commenced, the rhythm of the waves reassured me as I lit the burner of the small stove top and placed a silver kettle over an open flame. I wasn’t accustomed to a propane stove top but it seemed easy enough as I discarded the match and pulled a single mug off the shelf above the sink. One step to the left and I was able to retrieve the solo box of tea bags.

Two packets of sugar and a tea bag of peppermint rested next to the mug as I took a few steps towards my dining table which hung sideways when not in use. It was effortless to set up the table and pull a folding chair from the narrow closet to complete my seating area. The whistle of the kettle overpowered the sound of the ocean, but it was easy to rescue the kettle from the flame that was quickly extinguished. It was comfort to see the flame disappear as I poured the hot water into the cup, quickly filling the room with the aroma of peppermint.

The sweetness awoke my senses as I sat down at the table that was a perfect fit, as I pulled the laptop from its resting place underneath the food pantry. I waited for the computer to start as I sipped the soothing tea, glancing out the window to notice the dark clouds drifting over the house. The first signs of rain were made clear as water splattered against the double pane windows that stretched towards the thirteen and a half feet tall ceiling. The rain no longer held the ability to strike fear into my soul as I witnessed a flash dance over the rolling waves. The ocean was tossing but there was a majestic dance to the action as I turned my eyes away from the performance and focused on the light of the computer.

I couldn’t help but smile as I logged into the faculty portal and started reading the student answers to the week’s discussion question. This had been the last part to securing my freedom. The start of a new career had opened the doors to the beginning of a different lifestyle situated on the edge of the ocean in a small home. The house had been designed shortly after finding the perfect location to park the tiny house. Everything within these twenty four by eight feet walls had been ideally located and created to appease my wants. But it had been more than just a want; secretly it had all been triggered by a deep need to escape the mundane lifestyle a noisy city had created for me.

The memories were still recent enough to shut down my mind and focus on the rolling images. The mortgage was my master; forcing me to work long hours in an office that had few windows. Only the pictures I had pinned in my cubical allowed me to shrug off the feelings of claustrophobia. Eventually, I was able to push out the sound of ringing telephones, but by five o’clock I was forced into taking pain medications to relieve the aftereffects of my workplace.

The rage of the storm pressed against the metal roof, bringing me back to reality. This is not a dream I repeated three times as I placed my focus back onto the computer screen. I no longer feared the building storm because I knew in these walls nothing could distract me from the things I held dear. This place was my deliverance, manifested into a tangible object that would always hold the important things in life: time to spend with friends and family, less time worrying about money, more time spent doing things what I loved. The master’s degree in accounting had finally paid off as I guided student discussions on basic principles of college level math.

The tea was cold by the time I finished, but the day still stretched out before me. As I sat still in front of the closed laptop and glanced out the French doors, I watched the storm depart. In the distance lay a glistening beach and the rest of my glorious life to explore.