Translator: eric vautier Reviewer: Claire Ghyselen
Just imagine.
One, two.
One two, three four, five, six.
Two meters by six meters.
The classic interior dimensions of a tiny house.
That’s the space available
to fit everything you have,
your possessions, your life, your house.
Would you look forward to it?
To me, it does.
I'll tell you why.
Between the ages of 21 and 25,
I lived in different countries for internships or studies.
On each of these trips, I left with a 23 kg suitcase.
And it was an epiphany to me when I realized that in fact,
this suitcase contained everything I needed to live well,
and that everything I had left behind
in my parents' house was finally superfluous.
It was also during those years that I grew my ecological conscience,
at a fast pace.
I heard the warnings from scientists
about the planetary limits that we have already exceeded,
or that we are exceeding.
Climate change, biodiversity collapse,
ocean acidification, chemical pollution, soil degradation,
resource depletion, and so on.
I realized that the material abundance in which I lived
was largely responsible for all this.
So I returned to France.
I decided to stop flying.
And I continued my journey on the path of minimalism.
I fully embarked on the tiny house movement
by creating a village in Brittany, the Ty village.
At the same time, I made my home on a small seven-meter-long sailboat,
Polochon.
And then in Martine, a converted truck.
I went from about twelve square meters for the tiny house,
to about six square meters for the sailboat,
to less than four square meters, two persons, in the van.
I’ve lived super happily in each of these micro-homes.
The current success model pushes us to want bigger and bigger houses.
When I'm looking to buy or rent,
I often start by looking at my budget.
How much money do I have
and what is the largest surface I can afford with that budget?
When you choose micro-housing, the logic is completely different.
You start by asking yourself, “What are my basic needs?”
"What is non-negotiable for me?"
"What do I really need to be happy?"
When I was designing my tiny, it was clear that what was important to me
was to be able to welcome my friends and share food with them.
So when I drew up the plans,
I designed two large cooking surfaces
and a living room/dining room area
where six or eight people could sit together,
if they were really good friends.
Designing a micro-home based on one’s needs
is a demanding and rewarding introspective work
that forces us to know ourselves on how we function on a daily basis,
down to the smallest details.
Because, when space is limited, nothing can be left to chance.
For example, I like to shop in bulk
and store everything in glass jars.
OK, but on a daily basis, how many jars do I need
and how many shelves do I need to accommodate them?
How many hangers do I need in my closet?
How many pairs of shoes do I own?
Once I've completed this introspective work,
it's also an intellectually stimulating exercise in creativity and ingenuity
to arrange my essentials in a small space.
We are forced to exploit the space in its three dimensions,
to use the walls, the ceiling, to multiply the functionalities.
For example, in a space of one meter by one meter,
we can fit a fridge, a sink,
a dish drainer, shelves on the walls,
and upstairs, on the mezzanine, a bed and a bedside table.
Do you have drawers, closets, or bags
in your home that are always a bit of a pain to close because they are too full?
Yes?
When you choose to live in a micro-home,
at some point you have to clear the space,
get rid of everything that clutters your life
and refocus on what is essential.
If an object brings me deep joy, then I can keep it.
But if an object inspires me stress, discomfort, or even disgust,
then I get rid of it.
And counter intuitively,
being a minimalist does not necessarily mean owning nothing.
You can be a minimalist and have a beautiful piano.
You can have a big library
if reading is something that sincerely, deeply matters to you.
You can have kite surfing equipment if kite surfing is your passion.
The magic of micro-homes is that it makes us
question the place of everything in our lives.
When I was in high school, I used to go shopping a lot,
almost every weekend.
I remember spending hours in the morning
in front of my wardrobe, in deep anxiety,
of not knowing what to wear because I had so many choices.
Today, that anxiety has left me.
I have an outfit for my professional interventions and it is my favorite.
When I walk around the city, I feel free to not feel the desire
for everything that the show windows would like to offer me to see.
I actually know that I don't need all that.
Besides, I don't have the space at home.
In fact, I don't even want it anymore.
When I walk around the city, I am free to observe and listen to the sounds,
to feel the wind, the sun on my skin, to dream, my mind is quiet.
We should systematically ask ourselves the question: "Why am I buying this?
Do I buy it because I really need it?
Or am I buying it because I am used to doing it?
Or because everyone around me does it that way?
Or maybe because a marketing strategy worked on me?"
I've asked this question for many things that were present in my life.
The bra, the moisturizer,
the perfume, the tweezers,
the pencil on the eyes, the stilettos.
And I experimented: what happens if I take that out of my life?
It actually made my life much simpler, much lighter.
In the morning, I get up, put on the one outfit that’s lying at the bedside
and I'm ready to open myself to the world.
I feel like I've regained a form of sovereignty
by putting the awareness of how it will affect my life
on every act of consumption.
A large house can also often be a hassle.
The quantity of objects and volumes to manage is a mental burden.
My mind is constantly challenged by objects that need attention,
maintenance.
I have to tidy up there.
I have to clean there, I have to repair that, I have to buy that.
To the point of sometimes becoming almost a slave to our own possessions.
In micro-homes,
everything is perfectly in its place and requires a minimum of attention.
In a tiny house,
in five minutes, I can have cleaned the whole floor of my house.
And if I really motivate myself to do a half-day of cleaning,
then my house will be spick and span, from top to bottom, literally:
walls, ceilings, inside drawers included.
And when you live in an oversized home and you're tired,
you need a break.
So we go on vacation far from our home to recharge our batteries.
But isn’t our home the place
that should be the best place for us to rest?
Each micro-home in which I have lived
has been for me a true temple of serenity.
They have given me more energy than they have required.
They have allowed me to simply be there.
And in the mental burden of possessions,
there is also the fear of loss.
The fear of getting robbed when you have jewelry,
high tech equipment or other valuables home.
The only thing I would be really worried about losing is my computer -
it's my main work tool -
but it's almost ten years old, it's not very attractive anymore.
If burglars came to my house, they would be very disappointed.
Having nothing to lose is also a great source of peace of mind.
The accumulation of material possessions can really become a burden at times,
a hindrance in our lives, an obstacle to our dreams.
We see people who are not fulfilled in their situation,
but who remain prisoners,
so much the idea of moving seems insurmountable,
so much stuff to manage.
It would take weeks, sometimes months.
By limiting what I own,
I know that I am able to move and rearrange somewhere else,
all in 24 hours.
As a result, I can remain open to opportunities
and constantly follow my life's momentum.
I'm 27 years old and I feel like I've already lived several lives.
With freedom also comes financial freedom.
All the money I don’t have to spend on things I don’t need anymore,
I don't have to earn.
My financial security becomes that much easier.
I'm free to choose my work activities
based on what they mean to me,
rather than what they pay.
And I'm free from the social pressure
to move up the ladder and earn more and more.
Let me tell you one more thing.
When I'm in a tiny house, a sailboat or a converted truck,
there is literally only one step separating me from the outside.
Wherever I am home,
I am at most a few dozen centimeters away from a window.
So every gust of wind, every drop of rain, every ray of sunshine,
every cloud, I see them, I feel them pass.
I am ultra-connected to what surrounds me.
Rid of the superfluous, I am even more available to myself,
to others, to the world.
In fact, I have less living space, but in reality, I have more space,
outside space - the world -
and inside space - my own interiority.
A few -
A few days ago,
I sold the converted truck I had bought a year ago.
I realized that it, too, had become a mental burden
and that it was actually dissonant for me,
in terms of my ecological convictions, to move around
in two tons of metal and plastic propelled by fossil fuels.
I realized that I was happier hitchhiking
with a tent in my backpack.
It's not as comfortable,
but it’s much richer in adventure, encounters
and super fulfilling in the sense of alignment it gives me.
Today, although I graduated from one of the best universities,
I don't have a nice Parisian apartment,
I don't have a loan,
I don't have a car,
I don't have a TV,
I don’t have a connected watch and I don’t have a hairdryer.
On the other hand, I have a rich life of beautiful relationships,
family,
friends,
work,
love.
My life is materially sober, but humanly and internally rich.
Today, I would like to invite you to ask yourself
about your basic needs.
What are your essentials?
Are there things in your life that you could let go of?
And I invite you to imagine what would happen if, tomorrow,
we stopped thinking in terms of material accumulation,
if, you, you, all of us,
started to give, rather than buy,
to empty, rather than fill,
to get rid of, rather than collect.
If, instead of wanting to buy things, we wanted to live things.
If, instead of offering gifts to our loved ones, we offered them time,
quality of presence,
authentic moments.
If we stopped accumulating on the outside to grow on the inside.
If we decided to possess less to exist more.
Thank you.
(Applause)