When we first started researching the long-term travel lifestyle over a year ago, we were surprised at how many books, pundits, and bloggers talked about the philosophies of the lifestyle. It felt at times as if we were indoctrinating ourselves into some sort of cult. Yeah, we “got” that you had to change your lifestyle, that you have to learn to give up some material interests, that you have to live a more lean life. After all, you can’t pack it all in a suitcase, can you?
But what we’ve come to learn in addition to the mantra of “live less materialistically”, is that working–as in your career, whatever it might be–should be about building and sustaining the life you desire and not about making money. Money is the fuel for the car that gets you to your destination. Money is the fertilizer that grows the perfect vegetable or flower you want. Money should never be the direct objective of a career. I think losing sight of this is what leads to materialism in the first place.
This is a radical change in our thinking. We’ve been entrepreneurial for more than twenty years: pursuing the dream of building up and cashing out. It’s supported our lifestyle and helped us bring up two wonderful children, but what’s made us happy hasn’t been the work and the dollars, it’s been the kids and the friends and the fun and the travel.
In short, it’s been the relationships we’ve made and the experiences we’ve had that have made us happy.
In talking with people, reading blogs, and researching the full-time travel lifestyle, we’ve noticed with perfect consistency that the people who embrace this lifestyle are the happiest, and are regarded by others as the happiest, people they know. I don’t think it’s because they travel; it can’t be: many people are fine and dandy with staying put in their home town. I think it’s because they’ve learned the true secret, which is that we should work to live, not work to make money. Traveling full-time forces you to shed the unnecessary baggage of life, leaving you with what’s truly important: the relationships and experiences, whether here or there.
Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go burn some incense and learn a new creepy cult chant.
