On a random Thursday night, I was ready to relax. Nothing seemed better than sitting down to watch a documentary with my girlfriend. And so we did. Perched at the top of new releases on Netflix was a quirky looking film called “Tiny: A Story About Living Small.” It was new, and seemed interesting enough, so we decided to watch it. And I’m so glad we did.

The film follows soon to be 30 year old Christopher Smith and his quest to discover himself as he prepares to enter a new decade of life. We learn that owning a home in the vast Colorado landscape has always been a dream of his. So, with the help of his girlfriend, he decides to build a tiny house, no bigger than 500 sq ft, from scratch. The result is a mix of missed expectations and tireless work, all leading up to a charming final product. But like most stories, the reward is found in the journey.

It got me thinking about American culture and our seemingly incessant need to accumulate as many big, extravagant things as possible. As the film notes, the size of the American home has doubled in 40 years despite the average household size growing smaller. Why do we need so much space? To prove that we have “made it?”

I suspect the American home, just like a car or jewelry or clothes, has become a monument for our ability to purchase, a status symbol intended to scoff at anyone who cannot. But the home should be the last place for such ideals. Unlike material items that are easily replaced and exchanged, a home requires real investment. You must carefully tread through available options until you just “know” you’ve found the one. You will share your most intimate moments with close relatives and friends inside those walls. It should be where you feel most secure, most comfortable. Again, it is about the journey.

Tiny houses like those featured in the film seem to re-capture these joys of home ownership, because their miniature size forces us to recognize them. Could you imagine being angry for weeks at your sister if you were forced to share a bed with them? Instead of slinking away to your giant bedroom and locking yourself out from the world, you are forced to realize the relationships around you, and ultimately I think, come to appreciate them. Sit-down family dinners would be much easier to achieve. Sharing a small space with your new spouse is like a marriage therapy session minus the fees. You can be meticulous about the design and functionality of every nook and cranny, making it a house that is truly your own.

Most Americans will continue to disagree. But that doesn’t mean they always will. Tiny houses are growing in popularity in these hard economic times, where a new couple or a young college grad can build themselves a house for $30,000 and save significant amounts of money on utilities. Several blogs now focus on tips and tricks for building your own. And a quick Pinterest search delivers thousands of results.

Perched behind the gigantic houses that have propped up across the country are the mini houses and their occupants — two philosophies of life in direct contrast.

As I was doing quick research on tiny houses, I came across an interesting statistic. Only 1% of Americans own a home less than 1,000 sq ft. I found that incredibly ironic, in light of recent revelations that 1% currently own 40% of the entire wealth of the nation. I’m sure tiny home owners would say, without a doubt, they are wealthy in a very different, more rewarding way.