Why We’re Building Oak Hollow—and Why I’m Sometimes Scared
There are days I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
We’re building cabins on raw land. We’re pouring savings and sweat into off-grid systems, a hand-built hub, and a philosophy that runs counter to everything culture screams at us. And we’re doing it not because it’s easy—but because something inside won’t let us do anything else.
And if I’m honest? Sometimes I’m afraid.
When I stop and think about the monstrosity of the undertaking—the money, the time, the effort, the pressure to “make it work”—it can spin me out.
Are we crazy for trying this? Will anyone actually want to stay here? Can we really build something from scratch and convince people to come?
I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this:
This project didn’t come from ambition. It came from desperation. Not a desperation for attention, but for escape—from the noise, the pace, the digital flood that never lets up.
Where This All Started
For years, I’ve felt something unraveling—quietly but steadily—in the culture around me. Attention spans are disappearing. People can’t sit still. We scroll past our lives in search of something to scroll into.
And I started noticing it in myself, too.
I craved something slower, something quieter. Something real. Not just a vacation—but a place to think. A place to be. A place to remember what it feels like to live on purpose.
That’s where Oak Hollow was born. Not from a business plan—but from that ache.
Now, we’re building our first cabin. We’re restoring the land. We’re creating a place where guests can unplug, breathe, and come home to themselves—even if just for a weekend.
What We’re Really Offering
This isn’t a resort. It’s not luxury. And it’s not for everyone.
But if you’ve felt the pull I felt—if you’re craving quiet, or clarity, or just a damn break from your notifications—then you’ll understand what we’re trying to do.
We’re offering:
- A simple place to rest
- A quiet place to think
- A reset from the algorithm
- A return to the natural rhythm of days and nights, sun and moon
And yes—it’s still small. One cabin. One hub. A work in progress. But every board we place is intentional. Every decision rooted in the same question:
What helps people simplify? What helps them reconnect?
So… Is This Possible?
I think so. Not because we’ve cracked some marketing code. But because we’re building what we need ourselves—and we’re betting that other people need it too.
We’ll keep telling the story. We’ll keep inviting people into it. We’ll keep living this thing out in real time—mess and all.
And somewhere down the line, when a guest steps out onto the cabin porch, coffee in hand, silence in the air, no notifications buzzing—maybe they’ll whisper the same words I once did:
This is what I needed.
Want to Follow Along?
We’ll be sharing the build process, stories from the land, and reflections like this one right here on the blog. If you want to be part of the journey, sign up below.
If you’re already thinking I need this—well, that’s where it starts.
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🏡 Bookings open soon — Check availability here
Let’s simplify on purpose—together.
Oak Hollow Cabins 