For a few years my husband and I have been having a regular conversation about how to change our lives. All of our parents are still working hard to pay their bills, and none of them are too happy about it. So, here we are in our late 30's with 2 kids and we figure, hey, let's be smarter than them, let's start doing something different now.
We live in the San Francisco bay area where both of us were born, and mostly raised, my entire family is within an hour of our home, and his is scattered a little south of SF. We love it here, it's our home, we have history here that go generations deep. We are not in any hurry to exit, even under the extraordinary financial pressures of this area.
We make a good living, yet we are living month to month. Each month we get excited to put away money, and every month we watch it disappear under the weight of good food, a car payment, insurance, gasoline, clothes (growing children), and the tension-causing "treat" category. Because, after all, we work hard and deserve some treats!
So we put away less than hoped, and we commit to "doing better" the next month. And now here we are two years down the line of this concerted effort with really nothing to show but some stress lines around our eyes, some weathering from heated arguments, and some really sweet memories of delicious dinners, and a few get aways.
We want more out of life.
The conversation has been getting harder as my husband has been working at a job that he's been ready to leave for about 6 years.
Five months ago I tossed out the idea of him quitting his job and us living on my income in Thailand, or Croatia. He laughed. But slowly, this idea of living outside of the metered out parameters became more and more legitimate. We both went down a few different rabbit holes. His involved over land vehicles with extensive equipment. Mine involved tropical islands and hammocks.
Eventually we braided our findings together in a vision that combined a tropical island and building a home. The day we got the loan we realized it wasn't the right thing for us.
I felt frustrated and exhausted from treading water in the uncertainty of how to move forward in our lives. And then, divine providence struck and to this day we have no idea who uttered the word, but there it sat like a large looming mother waiting to take us in, nurture us and transform us. That word, that idea that took shape and now sits in our driveway, our beloved (we hope) Trailer.
Suddenly Wayland was scouring craigslist, and I was trolling RV and Camper sites hoping for a mint condition Airstream, or a Casita, or some such pristinely adorable vintage mini home. It only took a few weeks for us to settle into the reality that this shit was NOT in our budget.
And then we found our beautiful compromise. A 1990 Layton trailer that had been coddled by an elderly couple in a tiny town.
Cut to tonight.
The last night in our absolutely perfect bed.
The trailer (haven't known her long enough to name her) is packed with all we hope we may need for the next three months, clothes, art supplies for craft time, flashlights, auxiliary batteries, propane, a solar panel, more clothes, diapers, toiletries and not much more.
We are hitting the road tomorrow with our 12 year old daughter & 19 month old son not just to expose them to the magnificence of the redwoods and Oregon coast, Glacier Park, or the alien landscape of Zion, which is actually reason enough.
We are going to build a business on the road.
I have been a part of a wonderful company for a few years and now is the time to see what we can create.
In trying to create a different path way than our parents we recognize the need for residual income, and that is what we are mining with this business. Sharing health and wellness with people in beautiful places.
It's the eve before we depart and I still can't digest that we are leaving tomorrow to build our dream.
We are going to build a dream..
We live in the San Francisco bay area where both of us were born, and mostly raised, my entire family is within an hour of our home, and his is scattered a little south of SF. We love it here, it's our home, we have history here that go generations deep. We are not in any hurry to exit, even under the extraordinary financial pressures of this area.
We make a good living, yet we are living month to month. Each month we get excited to put away money, and every month we watch it disappear under the weight of good food, a car payment, insurance, gasoline, clothes (growing children), and the tension-causing "treat" category. Because, after all, we work hard and deserve some treats!
So we put away less than hoped, and we commit to "doing better" the next month. And now here we are two years down the line of this concerted effort with really nothing to show but some stress lines around our eyes, some weathering from heated arguments, and some really sweet memories of delicious dinners, and a few get aways.
We want more out of life.
The conversation has been getting harder as my husband has been working at a job that he's been ready to leave for about 6 years.
Five months ago I tossed out the idea of him quitting his job and us living on my income in Thailand, or Croatia. He laughed. But slowly, this idea of living outside of the metered out parameters became more and more legitimate. We both went down a few different rabbit holes. His involved over land vehicles with extensive equipment. Mine involved tropical islands and hammocks.
Eventually we braided our findings together in a vision that combined a tropical island and building a home. The day we got the loan we realized it wasn't the right thing for us.
I felt frustrated and exhausted from treading water in the uncertainty of how to move forward in our lives. And then, divine providence struck and to this day we have no idea who uttered the word, but there it sat like a large looming mother waiting to take us in, nurture us and transform us. That word, that idea that took shape and now sits in our driveway, our beloved (we hope) Trailer.
Suddenly Wayland was scouring craigslist, and I was trolling RV and Camper sites hoping for a mint condition Airstream, or a Casita, or some such pristinely adorable vintage mini home. It only took a few weeks for us to settle into the reality that this shit was NOT in our budget.
And then we found our beautiful compromise. A 1990 Layton trailer that had been coddled by an elderly couple in a tiny town.
Cut to tonight.
The last night in our absolutely perfect bed.
The trailer (haven't known her long enough to name her) is packed with all we hope we may need for the next three months, clothes, art supplies for craft time, flashlights, auxiliary batteries, propane, a solar panel, more clothes, diapers, toiletries and not much more.
We are hitting the road tomorrow with our 12 year old daughter & 19 month old son not just to expose them to the magnificence of the redwoods and Oregon coast, Glacier Park, or the alien landscape of Zion, which is actually reason enough.
We are going to build a business on the road.
I have been a part of a wonderful company for a few years and now is the time to see what we can create.
In trying to create a different path way than our parents we recognize the need for residual income, and that is what we are mining with this business. Sharing health and wellness with people in beautiful places.
It's the eve before we depart and I still can't digest that we are leaving tomorrow to build our dream.
We are going to build a dream..
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