Planning Long Term Travel Part III: Providence

Originally posted April 23, 2016

We all have two lives and the second one doesn’t start until you realize you only have one.

-Confucius

 

Leaving my career for a year of travel has been a major life change and during the ‘road to the road’, I’ve had my fair share of lessons learned.   But rather than being hard lessons, they have provided a much-needed personal intervention or divine kick-in-the-pants, if you will. 

I can’t say that what I’m doing is for everyone and it’s not a decision to be taken lightly, but the learnings below tell me it’s been absolutely the right choice for me.

1)   Living with less… and loving it

We all know ‘you can’t take it with you’, yet modern culture suggests that the person without things has ‘nothing to show’ for their life.

Learning to live with fewer possessions has been a curious paradox. 

On one hand, whittling our worldly goods from a five-bedroom house (which, in the small home standard of Britain feels like an obscene finger gesture towards restraint) to a one-bedroom apartment lifted me both physically and psychologically.  And by unburdening myself externally, I suddenly found I was addressing my internal ‘stuff’- questions of identity and character.  I didn’t just want to aspire to be fearless, kind, patient and grateful but to really be that person with an inner glow of wisdom.

On the other, while de-cluttering was an overwhelmingly positive experience, it also exposed my control freak angst as I no longer felt anchored to the identity those things had come to represent.  If I no longer appeared traditionally ‘successful’ with a career, home, car and nice things, then who was I?

<awkward silence>

It’s tough to let go of the known for the unknown, especially when the unknown is ‘under construction’.  I wasn’t going to achieve transformation just because I took a year off, but the minimalist life of a long-term traveler would certainly provide the right environment to get started. 

To be clear, it’s not that I don’t like the nicer things in life.  I love beautiful things as much as the next gal, and someday I might revive my stuff-loving ways (albeit in a muted form), but for now, I’m going to trade it in for a year that is ‘stuff austere’ but rich in time and experience.

2)   If you have enough for a week, you have enough for a year

My initial packing list was so lengthy, that it was ridiculous—I looked at it recently and had a good laugh.  Even more comical was the first time I tried to pack my 44 liter Tortuga, as the initial pile of stuff I deemed ‘necessary’ for travel was 5x bigger than the bag.  Bit by bit, I culled my items down to the bare necessities, and by the time we boarded the plane, I had one week’s worth of clothing and toiletries.  Yes, I will need to wash clothes often and yes, I will need to get used to personal items that aren’t my favorite, but since we are not traveling to outer space, I’m certain it will be just fine.

3)   Working from home improved my life balance AND productivity

I used to be skeptical about working from home full-time.  I thought my extroverted self couldn’t possibly be successful without having others around me.  Wasn’t bringing people together my core strength after all? 

Turns out that my desire for efficiency trumps my desire to be around people.

Skipping the morning ritual of getting ready (hair/make-up/dress for success) and commuting gave me two hours back in the morning and an hour back in the evening.   I was able to put that time to good use by tackling difficult tasks first thing in the morning when my brain was freshest and patience at its peak.  As well, I didn’t have nearly the number of interruptions and as a result, my output was prolific.

It wasn’t just my work that improved, my health improved as well.  I was better able to control my food intake and I took a long walk everyday, which resulted in an eight-pound weight loss over the course of the year I worked from home. 

I love, love, love being location independent and a digital nomad.  Knowing I can take my skills and work anywhere has been a revelation.  Whatever the next chapter of my career, I know working from home (wherever that may be!) will be a central part of it.

4)   Personal validation must come from within

Not to get all existential crisis-y, but this has to be my biggest learning of all.

I’ve always enjoyed ceremony that surrounds school and work.  Solving problems, the camaraderie with colleagues, and the rewarding feeling of a job well-done have always been satisfying to me.  I liked the challenge.  I liked the validation.  I didn’t hate the money.

But there was a downside to that affirmation as my work had become personal and my job became me.   I was conflicted because while I enjoyed my career, I wanted to unlink my identity from my work.  I also wanted to stop linking my standard of living with the things around me.  The desire for nicer homes, nicer cars and nicer vacations was becoming a rabbit hole trap, forcing me to make trade offs between maintaining a lifestyle and personal discovery.

I gave myself a year to do it. 

In my last post, I discussed how gratitude training helped me build the skill of appreciation, which was key in redefining my views on success and work identity.   Through it, I was able to get some much-needed personal distance from my work.  I found that when I didn’t make my job a direct reflection of me, it was far more enjoyable and I rarely experienced negative emotions such as fear, anger and anxiety. 

CONCLUSION

What I learned over the past year preparing for long-term travel will serve me well on the road.

• Relieving the physical burden of possessions has alleviated the psychological burden of ownership.  I am learning to separate the value of things versus the value of having them as well as the opportunity cost of having things vs experiences.  Long-term travel will further cement this change in my mindset as I will not be able to accumulate things—and I would suspect that each additional day spent living minimally will reinforce its virtues.
• The confidence in knowing a week’s worth of clothing can last a year has increased confidence in my ability to make adjustments on the fly.  You can’t prepare for every scenario that ‘might’ come up (which is what I think leads to people packing wayyy to much—“what if there’s a formal event?”, “what if I decide to go camping for a week?”, “what if I run out of [some product]?”, “what if I get sick of wearing this shirt?”…
• Location independence is something I’ve come to value highly and because of that I will be more receptive to these types of opportunities going forward.  But what good is location independence if you don’t have a location or locations that you view as desirable places to be?  Extended travel will further illuminate places where I would like to live / spend more time in as to reap maximum value that location independence affords!
• I separated my personal identity from my work identity by peeling back 20 years of career accumulation in an effort to reach the core, then began to build new layers by redefining success and discovering challenge, camaraderie and validation though other means (i.e. outside of traditional work environment) while maintaining a consistent vein of gratitude throughout.

Thanks for reading!

Planning Long Term Travel Part II: Patience

Originally posted April 1, 2016

Regardless of how long it takes to earn your freedom, remember that you are laboring for more than just a vacation.  A vacation, after all, merely rewards work.  Vagabonding justifies it. 

-Rolf Potts, Vagabonding:  An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel

After our long-term travel decision had been made, there was an initial flurry of planning that led to a stagnant period of waiting. Unlike the comparative ease of preparation, waiting turned out to be hard work and required a certain capacity for patience before hitting the road.   So, while patience is a virtuous teacher, waiting is her killer final exam.

Why wait? As mentioned in the previous post, a bit of planning was needed to extricate ourselves from our lifestyle. Jobs, cars, homes and a houseful of possessions- all of these needed to be dispensed and while getting rid of stuff is easier than losing weight, it does takes time.

Equally important, we needed funds for the trip, with extra for a return to the US someday. Saving money definitely takes time and patience, and while there were things in our stripped down lifestyle we needed to get used to (like sharing one car), the learning curve wasn’t as steep as we thought it might be. Turns out, we didn’t miss a bigger apartment, shopping at the mall or frequent dinners out when the trade-off was freedom of time.

So, while saving money is one form of patience I can manage, there were other examples where I had to dig into my reserves, which are about as deep as the California water table.

One involves the selling of my condo. Perry and I had agreed in June 2015 to leave in April, but unaware we would have that fateful eureka moment, I had made the regrettable decision to extend the current lease on my condo the month before, requiring a ten month wait before I could sell it.  My eleventh year of home ownership proved to be the most tiresome and expensive one yet, with financial obligations ranging from major (assessment for historic brickwork repairs) to minor (bathroom and kitchen maintenance). Every email from the management company raised my ire as I watched precious funds meant for the road flow out the door.  

Breathe deeply, Paula.

Anticipating that a long fuse is a critical skill in approaching guaranteed mishaps on the road, I worked on my patience during the everyday, garden-variety irritations we all encounter: a traffic jam, picking the wrong line at the supermarket, navigating an automated phone system or getting your car dinged in a parking lot. I tried to approach such situations with a shrug and a smile, pretending I was in a foreign country and these minor calamities were just part of the adventure.  And while I definitely improved my approach, let’s just say I won’t be nominated for any Zen Master awards anytime soon.

However, of all the effort I put into cultivating patience, work is where I really learned to embrace it, and appreciate it more fully.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t just turn into some kind of Pollyanna. I still felt irritated during unproductive conference calls or bored during interminable PowerPoint presentations (performance metrics…zzz), so I’m not pretending that I magically transformed into the patron saint of patience.

But my attitude in how I approached these situations changed. Recognizing how this job would fund my travels, I adopted an attitude of gratefulness. And while that might sound trite, my daily gratitude exercise proved very effective in creating a positive mindset. I didn’t worry about having visibility, securing the best projects or being promoted- I simply appreciated things for what they were and was grateful for whatever learnings I could glean. I found an additional upside to cultivating this ‘skill of appreciation’, as my newfound outlook was mirrored back at me by my colleagues, where we formed strong relationships and even stronger results. This attitude wasn’t just some feel good woo-woo either, as I achieved better performance in the last few months than I had in the last few years.  Sure, knowing the end in sight was a contributing factor, but I'm convinced my 'gratitude adjustment' was key.

Gratitude is a bit of squishy thing, so you might be wondering how that works, practically speaking. I use a gratitude journal, which Tim Ferriss calls Gratitude Training and the premise is that by focusing on the positive, you can dramatically improve your happiness and success. Thus, my daily ritual involves answering these questions:

• What am I grateful for? (AM)
• What would make today great? (AM)
• What were three amazing things that happened today? (PM)
• How could I have made today better? (PM)

I can feel anxiety and stress melt away (similar to meditation) when I do this, so even with confrontational customers, office politics or marathon conference calls, frustration and irritation are kept in check.

As we begin our travel adventure, I’m still working on my patience, especially when it comes to waiting, but I’m packing my newfound impatience-busting secret weapon: gratitude.

Planning Long Term Travel Part I: Preparation

We had come to a fork in the road.

After returning to the US in September 2014, Perry and I had settled in St. Louis, Missouri, and those first few months proved to be a fairly difficult re-integration.  With nearly three years in the UK, we had fallen in love with the country, had made great friends, learned the nuances of British English and even enjoyed the dulcet tones of the King’s Cross station announcer.  Personally, we were fulfilled, but professionally, we were struggling. 

My job, which had brought us to England, was not going well.  Changes in the organization and conflicts with my manager had created a stressful existence and nearly a year of trying different approaches had not improved the situation.  Perry had completed an MBA (top of his class), but had not landed a job after nearly eight months of pavement pounding.  We had severely underestimated how much of a hurdle the visa would present in his job search.

It was not a sustainable situation and we knew we would have to leave.  As we landed in St. Louis for my new job, we both felt a bit demoralized and American culture suddenly felt incredibly alien.  I remember driving around gazing upon countless strip malls and fast food chains feeling slightly nauseous. 

Things eventually perked up.  Perry quickly scored a great consultancy job at the Federal Reserve Bank and I settled into my new marketing role.  We made a few friends and started to enjoy some of St. Louis’ cultural amenities, including Forest Park and Cardinal baseball.

Six months later, we still felt off.  We had a comfortable lifestyle and good jobs, but something just wasn’t right.  Longing for my days as an expat, I cheered myself writing stories about those experiences.  Perry and I reminisced about the good times, and vowed to do it again, someday.

Then, in April 2015, Perry encouraged me to listen to an episode of the Tim Ferriss Show podcast entitled, ‘How to Earn Your Freedom’ which consisted of two chapters from Rolf Potts’ revolutionary travel book, Vagabonding.

I listened to it during a long drive and remember being completely entranced by what I was hearing.  I savored every word of it like some kind of proverbial chicken soup for the soul. 

I remember exclaiming ‘Yes!’ every time he said something that resonated with me.    I must have yelled a dozen times.  Here it was- the thing we were yearned for, but couldn’t yet articulate.  A different kind of life we didn’t realize existed- the long-term traveler.

When I got home, we discussed the possibility of our own long-term travel.  As we talked, we would give each other these incredulous looks of ‘How have we not considered this before?’

By the end of the night, we said ‘yes’ to travel, but still had to figure out how to get on the road.

The initial exhilaration lasted for nearly a month and those first weeks were a rush of planning, but as I mentioned before, not the itinerary building kind.

We had a lot of questions to answer.  We had the ‘who’ and ‘why’, but ‘what’, ‘when’, ‘where’ and ‘how’ stood in front of our travel dreams like NFL linebackers.

Where do you start when giving up your old life and beginning a new one?  What about our stuff?   What about our homes?  How long would we be gone?  How much money do we need?  Where would that money come from?  Where would we go?  When would we go?  What type of travelers were we?  What would we bring? 

Whoa.

While we tackled them one at a time, we learned these decisions are not sequential.  What you decide to do with your stuff, identifying what type of traveler you are, where you will go and how much to save are inextricably linked.  But for ease, I’ve broken them down individually as we approached them. 

THE RIGHT STUFF

With people that are a bit more established (ahem, older), this can be a really difficult step.  There are many reasons that young people embark on long-term travel more often than older people, and I’m convinced dealing with ‘stuff’ is one of the bigger deal breakers. 

Our first thought was to rent a storage locker, which seemed like a safe and reasonable thing to do.  Then, we started costing it out.  The average 10’x20’ locker (3 rooms) runs between $100-$150 per month with a 10’x30’ going for $200+.  Spending $2400 to store ‘stuff’ gave us pause and we decided to re-evaluate our relationship with it.  

Having lived internationally and done a bit of travel, we felt confident we would be on the road long enough to justify selling everything.  I was on board with this, and for the most part, didn’t mourn items as they departed.  Well, except for the kitchen table, where I’ve spent most of my time writing and planning this trip.  While selling the table felt like a betrayal, most of the purging felt great, as though every item I separated from made space for a new experience.

We eventually sold most everything (save for 20 totes of personal items) over the course of a year, in stages.  Our initial sell-off included one car and enough furniture and clothing, that we could downsize from a large two-bedroom plus office, to a small one-bedroom apartment.

Perry and I each owned homes in Minnesota that we had been renting out- something we were forced to do when we moved to the UK, owing to the housing market crash.  By this time, however, things had improved and we were anxious to unburden ourselves completely, so we aimed to sell both before we left.   So far, I have been successful, but Perry’s will take a bit longer.

Dealing with your home is another big step, and many long-term travelers will rent out their place, just as we did when we became expats, as a bit of a safety net.  Selling your home can be scary.  Our culture teaches us this is a responsible investment (it can be if you don't move around very much!) and to some, there is a stigma attached to renting.  I understand that the feeling of being ‘homeless’ on paper might be overwhelming if you have been working long and hard to achieve ownership. 

But keeping your home and renting your place isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.  While I admit, I’ve had mostly positive experiences renting out my condo, the trade-off is a whole lot of risk.   You still assume all the financial responsibility- repairs, taxes, assessments, etc.  Hopefully, the rent will be enough to cover all your expenses, but in my experience, that wasn't always the case.  Plus, there is the matter of your time.  Even if you hire a management company, there is still a time commitment in the way of communications over decisions.  It isn’t a completely carefree situation.  

In my opinion, there is little upside, other than having a safety net of somewhere to return, provided the lease is up at that time!   Yes, your home might end up being the perfect place after all, OR you might discover another spot in the world that feels even more ‘like home.’ 

In our situation, we had had enough of the home ownership game, and deciding to sell was an important step in freeing ourselves for extended travel. 

SHOW ME THE MONEY

I have a confession.  This section was the most difficult for me to write, as discussing money and providing real numbers felt awkward and uncomfortable.  However, I was inspired by the many travel blogs out there that provide complete honesty and transparency on this subject.  When you first start looking into long-term travel, the matter of money is crucially important- you just want to know 'how much do I REALLY need?'

Well, you do need some money, but definitely not as much as you think.  With the mindset that this is travel and not a vacation, it's pretty shocking just how inexpensive it can be.  You don't live at home like a vacation at an all-inclusive resort, and living long-term on the road is no different.

We read many articles to get to the root of 'how much', and there were some brutally honest conversations about how realistically frugal we could be.   One example of this:  my 40-something self ‘needs’ a decent bed, and as such, we won't be sleeping in hostel dorm rooms (a private room, sure!).   We will need to pay a bit more to get a good nights sleep, but that’s not to say it will be luxurious.  And while I like fine food, I also know how to cook, so the trade off for a better bed might be to spend less money by mostly cooking ourselves.  We had many more talks just like this to help determine what 'type' of travelers we would be.

Perry has me beat on both counts- perfectly ok with budget accommodation AND not much of a foodie, he is made for economy travel!  Mainly for my benefit, we agreed to be more miserly with accommodation in countries known for food and the opposite in the others.  After much debate, we agreed to a minimum of one year and set a travel budget of $100 a day, recognizing we will exceed this in expensive Western European countries and come under it in Southeast Asia.  We have confidence it will balance out in the end, as we have been practicing budgeting and economy living for many months leading up to the trip.

In addition, we are planning on reducing accommodation costs by doing a bit of housesitting and volunteering along the way.  We are listed on Trusted Housesitters, a pet and house sitting service, and I completed two pet sits here in the US as practice for the road.  We’ve also signed up for a few volunteering opportunities, such as the olive harvest in Italy (wwoof.net), a language immersion camp in Spain (diverbo.com) and teaching English to migrant children in Romania and China (globeaware.org), which provide room and board in exchange for volunteer labor.

I can’t stress how important it is to be honest about your travel style and your budget. I took great inspiration from budget traveler blogs and learned many ‘hacks’ that will no doubt save us money.  However, I know I am not in my 20’s and not likely to stick to a bare bones travel budget.  It was worth it to save for longer and have the funds to travel with bit more comfort, however, let me be clear we are far from a luxury travel budget!   Traveling as a couple, we expect to have enough economies of scale when it comes to accommodation and food, especially renting apartments and cooking most of our meals, such that we feel that $100 is realistic. 

We will soon find out.  Stay tuned…

Once we set our travel number, a budget was developed.  With current savings, we calculated it would take us 9 months to save what we needed to travel, plus a 50% cushion, plus enough money to set up a household in the US if/when we return.

The first thing we did was look at our biggest spending areas to see where we could cut back.  By downsizing to a smaller apartment and selling one of our cars, we saved $1200 per month.  We also cut cable and eating out (including my Starbucks habit), which netted us another $600 per month. 

Additionally, we recorded every expenditure (as a list on the refrigerator—for maximum visibility/shame) and reconciled it with the budget every month.  I was surprised at how much of a deterrent this was against spending.  Having a budget meeting with Perry made me think twice about frivolous spending and shopping trips to the mall out of boredom.  It felt like it would be taking money directly out of the travel budget.  ‘Do I want (insert thing of the moment here) or another two days on the road?’

While this may sound depressing, to us, it truly felt great to cut back.  Controlling your destiny, financially and otherwise, is empowering, and living frugally was a minor short-term sacrifice that both enabled and primed us for long-term travel. 

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

After the less-than-fun planning around stuff and money, now we were in my wheelhouse! We agreed to focus on Europe first, as there is so much we haven’t seen, and frankly, feel most confident in tackling.   After a few months getting our travel legs, SE Asia, NE Asia and Australia/New Zealand are next on the agenda. 

SE Asia is a popular long-term traveler destination, owing to a combination of great weather and low costs.  While this certainly appeals to us, another reason is its proximity to China, Tibet and Mongolia, which are even more exciting and exotic destinations to us.  For me, I’m interested in the history of China while Perry has been studying Mandarin and sleeping in a Mongolian yurt happens to be on his bucket list.

I was in my research element, reading every article and long-term travel blog I could get my hands on.  Scanning AirBnBapartments became my new obsession.  I signed up for travel podcasts (Extra Pack of Peanuts and Zero to Travel are among my favorites!) for destination inspiration.

As I’ve mentioned before, Perry is my planning opposite.  A decidedly ‘let it unfold as it will’ type-traveler, even he got in on the act.   I came home one evening to find a poster size map on the dining room table, complete with pins and thread outlining our travels by season.

After a few months, we started to have a bit of planning burn out.  We initially built a structured schedule of countries by month (as managing the ins and outs of the Schengen area requirements/limits was a practical concern that we didn’t want to lose sight of), but decided to allow for more flexibility so we could say ‘yes’ to opportunities that presented themselves on the road.  Of course, there are trade offs in using this approach, mainly higher costs, but agreed we would prefer a ‘slow and savor’ vs. ‘hard and fast’ travel mindset.

PACK YOUR CASE

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit how much time and energy I’ve invested in the matter of ‘what to bring’.  To me, the idea of wearing the same clothes day in and day out meant that every piece counted and needed to be perfect.  Normally, I like this kind of challenge, but my rigid requirements made for frustrating shopping.

• Wrinkle free
• Performance material
• Machine wash/dry
• Dark color
• Not bulky (rolls up tight)
• Looks chic

Wardrobe selection caused a great deal of consternation, until one day I listened to podcast featuring a man who has been a long-term traveler for over eight years.  When the interviewer asked him about what he packs, I turned up the volume with great interest, even though guys’ needs differ from that of the ladies.  His answer was ‘Honestly, most rookie travelers spend way too much time and money on this, searching for quick dry materials and the perfect pieces.  Just throw some clothes in a bag and go.’

Gulp.  No one was in the room with me, but I looked away and blushed.

I’d like to say I took this to heart, but I didn’t.  While his advice helped take my anxiety down a notch, I subscribe to the philosophy of ‘look good, feel good’ and my perfect clothing search continued literally until the last week before the trip.  I made purchases from a variety of mainstream and travel clothing specialists.

We had planned our travel itinerary to avoid very hot and very cold weather in search of what I call ‘perpetual spring’, so we would not need heavy winter clothing.  I built my wardrobe around black and gray solids, with a pop of red in my scarf and a pair of animal print flats for pattern.    Knowing how much of an issue this can be for female travelers, I will detail my entire wardrobe and sources in a future post!

Then, there was the matter of toiletries and makeup.  I had certainly streamlined my routine over the past year, but there was still too much bulk.  Perry and I made a list of the things we each used and agreed to consolidate common items such as face cleanser, SPF 30 moisturizer and toothpaste, which helped a little.  I kept assessing and tossing until I had pared everything down into one small Ziploc bag for makeup and one for toiletries. 

Now that I had my clothing and toiletries game down, what would house them?  I had learned to pack a small case for a week of work travel during my days in the UK thanks to EasyJet, however, the idea of packing for a year was a bit intimidating.  I googled long-term travel packing lists and watched countless YouTube videos on various packing techniques, and while I picked up a few tips, I never found someone who matched my age and style completely.

We made a few early packing lists to help us make a decision on what size backpack to choose.  I pulled that list out the other day and laughed as the folly of it!  5 pairs of pants, 15 shirts, 2 dresses, 4 pairs of shoes, 15 pairs of underwear, 2 coats… it goes on and on.  This was the result of a lot of ‘well, what if we do this…’  talk that made my list so ridiculous, I would need 100 liter pack and a mule to make it work!

In the end, we purchased Tortuga 44 liter backpacks and packing cubes, primarily because a 44 liter is the maximum carry-on size.  On the final decision of what to carry, I will only say ‘choose wisely’ and know that you will fill whatever you pick. 

While I’m happy with the decision now, initially, I had reservations about the idea of a backpack vs. a suitcase.  I’m not pretending to be a gap year backpacker (and don’t want to look like one!), but previous experience dragging a rolling suitcase down stairs and cobblestone streets was decidedly more unappealing.  After seeing how sleek and streamlined the Tortuga was, Perry and I deciding to give it a try during a vacation in the UK. 

I was confident I had packed light… until I had to walk a mile from the train station to our hotel.  Drenched in sweat and shoulders throbbing, I knew I had to reassess my packing plan when we returned home. 

Bit by bit, I edited down until I had one week’s worth of clothing and minimal toiletries.  I will be washing clothes frequently, but now have a pack that won’t kill me. 

PLANNING POSTSCRIPT

One final note on the planning process.  Be mindful of Parkinson’s Law, which states that work expands to fill the available time.   While time is needed to save money, you don’t need a year to decide what to do with your stuff and to get your ‘affairs in order’.  It’s a bit like a wedding.  A flurry of initial planning, only to wait until those final two weeks of last minute details- selling items, securing travel insurance, getting a mail service, etc.  If money was in order, you could probably give yourself a month and make it work.

The 3 P's of Planning Long Term Travel: Preparation, Patience & Providence

Originally posted March 6, 2016

Perry and I are about to embark on an epic trip.

But this is no two-week vacation.  We are taking a career break for a year (or more) to travel around the world and pursue our creative passions.  It’s taken many months to prepare as we have transformed our 9-5 lives into those of long-term travelers.  Along the way, I’ve found there is a process to it that requires a little bit of planning and a lot of patience.  If you know us, you know I’m a planner, but not very patient, while Perry is very patient but not much of a planner.  Who won the clash of Planning vs. Patience?

Spoiler Alert:  patience.

Don’t get me wrong.  Planning is important.  You aren’t going to wake up one morning and leave a life you have built over many years.  There are definitely practicalities to work through.  But once the plan is set in motion, it turns out waiting is the hardest part (thanks, Tom Petty) and without patience, you won’t get there.   I struggled with this many times and no matter how often my rational side reminded me to ‘be present’ and ‘live fully every day’, it was tough not to fantasize about boarding a time machine that spit me out the day of our departure.    

I hate clichés, but it turns out the old saying is true.  Life happens while you are waiting.

Initially, I didn’t think much about the wait.  With my Type-A personality, I focused on the business of planning.  I’m the person who readies for a vacation by researching the history of a destination, poring over maps and studying restaurant reviews like I’m preparing to take the GMAT.  I also love the practical side of planning.  For me, making lists, building itineraries and packing are all part of the ‘fun’.

But again, this wasn’t to be a vacation.  This was going to be life, just a life on the move for more than a year and there was a lot to consider.

This type of planning forces you to make choices about the type of life you want to live.  There are trade-offs and tough decisions about money.   On the surface, it may seem like a huge sacrifice, but we actually found the trade-off to be liberating.  But even when you make these choices, you won’t hit the road overnight.  Cue the patience.  Unless you have unlimited funds, long-term travel will not happen without the diligence to see it through.

Luckily, Perry is a very disciplined person and helped me cultivate my own inner patience.  Along the way, I discovered providence in the wait. 

And some entertaining stories. 

The decision to experience long-term travel has been the most exciting and transformational undertaking of my life.  I initially thought that life on the road would be the most challenging aspect of this undertaking, but I’m convinced time will show it was preparing for life on road that was more difficult.  

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to break down how we came to this decision, and the steps we undertook to ready ourselves.  We call it ‘The 3 P’s.'  Along the way, we discovered a few expected challenges, but many more unexpected joys that made the wait almost as revelatory (we assume!) as the travel itself will be.