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For those of you who haven’t yet heard, yes—I am currently in the midst of building a 196-square-foot sustainable tiny house. Why would I start building a tiny house at 26, especially in the throes of a bitter mountain winter while couch-hopping myself? I have a few thoughts.

For now, the journey continues, and while it is far from reaching its endpoint, it continues to enrich. I am a vastly different human five months into this project than I was at its start, and the construction process has been nothing short of humbling.

It’s also been deeply instructive, especially in terms of what it means to be an eco-conscious, sustainably minded citizen. Here’s what I mean.

1. We’ve grown addicted to more than we need.

The idea of living tiny first drew me to compact space. Building tiny, however, has meant fresh intimacy with what it actually means to live minimally.

I’ve become deeply familiar with what some might call cramped quarters. (I know how wide most dishwashers are, for example, how much space we typically allocate to showers, how high most windows are up from the ground).

Every possession and necessity must have its own, earned space in this tiny house. I already live fairly minimally, but I’ve had to assess and reassess my belongings, letting many of them find better uses. The design of the tiny house itself has required utmost precision.

There’s nothing wrong with this. I’ve always enjoyed a challenge, and I never wish to be burdened by Stuff. But it has drawn my attention to how much our society has nursed an addiction to having more—more than what we actually need.

Space is a luxury, and not all of us have it. Creating more living space for the sake of space—well, I’m having a hard time really getting behind that. The earth can’t always accommodate that, especially when having more is often paired with other wasteful habits.

I’ve trimmed down what “necessity” truly means, and I think even Marie Kondo would be proud!

2. Fear really can stop you in your tracks.

If you let it, fear will keep you from doing something you don’t want to do, and so easily. I’ve given into the fear impulse all too easily, and building this house has been revelatory in this regard.

For example, I’ve always been a bit anxious around open flames of any kind. When I had to do a bit of welding on our rafter beam, it would have been much more comfortable to pass the torch (literally).

In fact, I almost did. But I sat there with that metal rod, turning it into a molten seam—heart pounding—and felt something: that sensation of expanding outside of yourself. Hesitation is natural, my friends, but fear is not. Fear keeps us from that delicious, revealing exhilaration that makes us growing, powerful humans.

3. It’s not all pretty Insta-stories.

Our instagram feeds never present the entire story. Mine certainly does not. It doesn’t show the late nights at the shop, the floorboard placing in negative temperatures, the mud-tromping, the screws that refuse to sink into wood.

It certainly doesn’t show the couch-hopping I’ve done while building, the receipt counting, the need-for-a-shower.

We need to remember this, and, more importantly, love all parts of our stories. I am more than social media, and so are you.

And: tiny house building is not easy. It may even be the most challenging—and also the most rewarding—thing I’ve done.

4. Nor is it about the end result (not really).

I naively assumed I would have a crude structure in place by February. Here I am, writing this in said crude structure, pausing periodically to check for leaks in the roof (spring rain!).

And this is okay. I’ve spent too long valuing end products and destinations, success stories and taglines. Life grows beyond these things, and there is much more to see—much more to learn—in the meantime. Plus, it means that I get to witness every growth stage of my future home. I wouldn’t miss that for anything.

5. There’s grace in admitting you don’t know how to do something.

The times that I have admitted ignorance—namely, every time a power tool walked onto the scene—I’ve been surprised. I expect disappointment or frustration but, instead, I’ve received compassion and an eagerness to instruct. Lucky, perhaps, but even luckier is the perspective that this is how we learn: by simply saying, “I don’t know.”

6. What it actually means to be eco-friendly.

This is one of the most important takeaways from my humble home build. I’ve wanted so desperately to check all of the eco-friendly boxes at every single stage of this construction.

I want to be zero-waste and plastic-free (meaning that I generate zero landfill waste or “garbage” and rely on materials other than plastic). I also want to be water-efficient and plant-friendly (namely by using biodegradable materials, paints, and soaps). Did I also mention I want to use alternative energy sources—like solar—whenever possible?

These are all noble and impactful desires. But I must say, it is nearly impossible to meet all of these desires at all times. I’ve chosen some building materials that contain chemicals, for example, as a means of prioritizing energy efficiency and independence; I’ve had to bring plastic into the equation for lack of alternatives.

This is okay. I’m developing a new, more forgiving definition of eco-consciousness: as long as I am choosing one aim (i.e., zero-waste), that itself is enough. It’s about the whole rather than the part in so many cases, and we aren’t superhuman.

That being said, I’m fairly proud of the decisions I’ve made throughout this project. It will ultimately be 100% zero-waste, plant-friendly, and plastic-free—at least in the lifestyle it enables!

7. Community is everything.

Creating with one’s hands is an ancient, urgent art. We need more of it in this screen-dependent society!

True creation, I believe, rides the wave of beloved community. I have had incredible support from so many loving, local hearts, and that reminds me of what this effort ultimately is about: cultivating a lifestyle that gives, to the earth and to others. That’s what it means to step into the light.

Thanks for listening, friends. I can’t wait to share more with you soon, once I’m fully living under this sweet peaked roof.