What does it need to shift our perspective on what we need and what we want to achieve?We are constantly busy: the pressure of time, of being efficient and productive, constant stimuli of both the real and the digital world distract us from calming down. Reducing pace to pause and think—to just be—can feel weird in a society that is driven by the goal of being productive in almost every aspect of live. »Being busy« seems to be the most accepted reason for not taking part or action in what’s productive and effective in the long run.
Since the 1980s, Slow Living is defined as a lifestyle that emphasizes a slower approach to aspects of every day life. That does neither mean to prevent the adoption of certain technologies nor the access to goods and services.⁶ But slow living means a more conscious usage of these. The highest aim is to leave space and energy to rise awareness.
Joining the Tiny House Movement as part of a slowed down life, many people reconsider what they value in life. As a result they decide to invest more into establishing and strengthening their communities, protecting and healing the environment, spending more time with close ones, or reducing their consumption.⁷
Experts in theory, arts and design, like those involved during the Venice Architecture Biennale 2018, did already discuss alternative forms of living—also in a broader context leading to relevant questions reframing our common: "[They] interrogate the commons as an ideology—an aesthetic of the real—as a way of giving a form to society and our contemporary human condition. With an understanding of aesthetics as ‘the art of thinking beautifully,’ as way of seeing a better, more beautiful world, [they] learn from the reciprocating movements for the commons asking questions: how is the commons constituted in society, how does it shape our reality of living together, and what strategies and what aesthetics should we follow?"⁸
When living in the Tiny House in Karrendorfer Wiesen, life automatically seems to happen on a lower pace. On some days, nothing but the daylight, the moving shadows and movement of the sun reminded me of time passing. Being far away from the noise and bustle of my daily routines, I started to listen more carefully to the soundscape of nature: cranes singing, rain clattering on leaves and soil, thunder rolling. Calming down, I allowed myself to change my expectations, daring the shift from producing to observing. What do I see when I look closer? What questions rise when there is nothing that distracts me? When I stop «being busy», an excuse we seem to use uncritically?
