Nat Cornacchione says she and her partner share a 250 square foot tiny house in a small community in California, and the experience has made her feel more grounded than she expected. Living among neighbors who think carefully about time, money, and their environmental impact has been deeply reassuring for her. In a place built on intention, the day to day rhythm feels less like keeping up and more like choosing what matters. That mindset shapes everything, from how people shop to how they show up for each other.
One of the biggest surprises is how naturally the community runs on mutual support. Cornacchione describes a give and take that looks like jump starting a car battery one day and borrowing a cup of sugar the next. The closeness is practical, but it is also emotional, since help is rarely a big production. It is simply what neighbors do when they know they are all a little off the beaten path together.
That shared spirit extends to pets, which are treated less like an add on and more like part of the neighborhood fabric. Cornacchione says there are a dozen dogs in the community, and residents even built a dog park using recycled materials. One retired neighbor has a fenced yard she jokingly calls a doggy daycare, inviting others to drop their dogs off to play with her German shepherd. It means people can enjoy the comfort of animals, even if they do not have the space or lifestyle for a pet of their own.
Because the community sits in a remote area near Mount Laguna, everyday convenience works differently. Cornacchione says the nearest goods and services are about 20 miles away, so residents lean on each other’s skills instead of defaulting to a quick errand. Someone might mend clothing, another might install a faucet, and the unspoken rule is to ask a neighbor first. Keeping work and money circulating locally also builds trust fast, since favors and paid help often come from the same familiar faces.
Still, tiny living is not always as peaceful as it sounds, especially when outsiders treat it like an attraction. Cornacchione says the community has 25 tiny homes, including a few vacation rentals, and weekends can bring curious visitors from San Diego. Some wander too close, step onto decks, or even pose for photos as if the homes are theirs. The residents want tiny living to feel normal and respected, not like a backdrop for someone else’s social media moment.
The lifestyle also pushes sustainability in a way that feels simple rather than performative. Cornacchione says small space naturally limits clutter, and neighbors share items through a communal spot they call “Our Goodwill.” Since many avoid single use appliances, borrowing becomes the default, and trips down the mountain are often shared to save gas. Less storage, more sharing, and fewer solo errands add up to a lighter footprint without constant effort.
Would you ever consider living in a tiny home community, and what would you want neighbors and visitors to understand about privacy and respect? Share your thoughts in the comments.
