Update to “How to live comfortably in a tiny little apartment”

Now I remember where I read all those statistics on house size and family size from my previous post: it was in Tsh Oxenreider’s book Organized Simplicity.[1] Here are the numbers:

In 1950 the average square footage of a new single-family home was 983.

In 2004 it was 2349 square feet.[2]

In 1950 the average family size was 3.67 persons.

In 2002 the average family size was 2.62 persons.[3]

This means that in 1950,  average-sized single-family home had 268 square feet per person.

By 2002 / 2004, the average single-family home had ballooned to 896 square feet per person—the amount of square footage that 50 years ago housed an entire family of 3 to 4 people.

[1] Organized Simplicity: The Clutter-Free Approach to Intentional Living2010 Betterway Home Books / F + W Media

[2] “Housing Facts, Figures and Trends for March 2006” National Association of Home Builders

[3] Here Oxenreider cites U.S. Census Bureau figures found in an article by Alex Wilson and Jessica Boehland “Small is Beautiful: U.S. House Size, Resource Use, and the Environment.” July 12, 2005. Currently available at GreenBiz.com

Principle 4: Freely Chosen Constraints

Define the limits within which you will be truly free.

On December 10, 1941, Thomas Merton, at the age of 26, entered a Trappist monastery near Bardstown, Kentucky, embarking on a life devoted to silent prayer and contemplation. He had been to the monastery before, to visit. But this time, he was coming to stay. For good:

The Bardstown bus was half full, and I found a somewhat dilapidated seat, and we rode out into the wintry country, the last lap of my journey into the desert…I could not get my bearings until some low, jagged, wooded hills appeared ahead of us, to the left of the road, and we made a turn that took us into rolling, wooded land.

Then I saw that high familiar spire.

I rang the bell at the gate.  It let fall a dull, unresonant note inside the empty court…Presently, the window opened, and Brother Matthew looked out between the bars, with his clear eyes and greying beard.

“Hullo, Brother,” I said.

He recognized me, glanced at the suitcase and said: “This time have you come to stay?”

“Yes, Brother, if you’ll pray for me,” I said.

Modern men and women bristle at the very idea of a young man locking himself behind the walls of a monastic enclosure. It’s like going to prison. Indeed, men and woman living in monasteries call their little rooms “cells.”

Yet, those who enter such a life freely regard it as anything but prison. After Thomas Merton entered the monastery…

 …Brother Matthew locked the gate behind me and I was enclosed in the four walls of my new freedom.”[1]

Freely chosen constraints simplify any undertaking.

For example, for me, it’s actually easier to write poetry that conforms to some kind of form or scheme, such as a sonnet, or a limerick, or a haiku, rather than free verse.[2] Even if I’m trying to write free verse, imposing some kind of structure on myself that I make up, even if it’s just for that particular poem, somehow sets me free to be more creative. When I was writing my novel, I aimed for twenty pages per chapter. Many of my chapters ended up longer or shorter than this, but the constraint gave me a goal. A book review I just wrote for a newspaper had to be between 500-600 words.

Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson, founders of 37 Signals,[3] include in their book of advice for business and life and chapter called “Embrace constraints.”[4] Deliberately setting limits forces you to innovate.

Once your framework is in place, there are certain decisions you no longer need to make:

  • both marriage and a vow of celibacy simplify one’s relationships with the opposite sex.
  • actress Jamie Lee Curtis wears only black & white
  • vegetarians can walk past the meat case without a first glance, let alone a second one

Something to think about:

Are you saying “yes” to too many things?

[1] The Seven Storey MountainThomas Merton, 1915-1968

[2] free verse: non-metrical, non-rhyming lines that closely follow the natural rhythms of speech. See the full definition, plus examples, at The Poetry Foundation.

[4] Rework by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson