Introduction

Sounds cliche, but it is starting with a dream. His dream is made up of independence, autonomy and the great outdoors. My dream is made up of my baby (babies), seascapes and writing with freedom. Our dreams coincide. We're going to live them together.

Our five year plan is to move from Charlotte, North Carolina where we live very comfy suburban lives and open a resort on a Philippine island. This includes selling all (most) of our worldly possessions, including two rental properties, the house we live in now, our two vehicles, cashing in any retirement savings and putting all that into this venture. We would also take our daughter Elyanna, currently four and a half months old, along with us.

The implications make my head spin!

Where did we get this silly idea?

JT's background is in hotel management. He's been in the hospitality business for over ten years. The idea came to him when living in the Florida Keys where he started his career. He has said that that time in his life made him feel like he was constantly on vacation. Though he was working hard - fifty to sixty hours a week were typical - his downtime was spent basking in the Florida sunshine, exploring the Everglades and fishing on the reef. So he wants to live somewhere tropical. He likes the work too. Though a little shy, he is whip smart, a guru with numbers and passionate about the business. What he doesn't like is answering to a boss.

JT is also an outdoorsman. He loves to hike, rockclimb, mountain bike and ski, but most of all, he loves the ocean. Basking at the beach, surfing the waves, snorkeling and diving. He wants to live where he can open the door and the ocean is right there to greet him good morning.

Combine all this and the plan begins to form - move somewhere tropical, open a small resort to make some cash and the work might not seem so hard.

And then Kate comes along.

We met in January 2009, in the haze of Barack Obama's election. (More on that later) Since meeting, we have moved in together, traveled to Calgary, Canada to meet my family, traveled to Rochester, Minnesota to meet his family, adopted a dog, gotten pregnant, birthed our beautiful baby girl, bought a bigger house and created a pretty complicated life for ourselves. We get up at the crack of dawn, feed our child, get her to the babysitters, take the dog out to potty, fight traffic to go to the office, work 8 - 12 hours, commute back, pick up the baby, play with her for all of an hour until her bedtime, make a healthy dinner, every now and then fit in some exercise, go to sleep and repeat. Weekends are spent catching up on what we didn't do during the week. It's an exhausting routine. We want to break that.

What about me? Am I just going along for the ride? Or is there more?

I've lived in Charlotte, North Carolina for ten years. I work for one of the biggest banks in the US. I've survived the economic crisis and though I consider myself lucky to have a job, I'm hoping that the rest of my life will not include sitting in a cubicle for eight hours a day. I love to write. I've been published. I have a novel written that has been sitting on my hard drive collecting dust for nine years.

Right this moment, my world revolves around a beautiful little baby named Elyanna. For three glorious months, we spent every waking moment together and then the harsh reality of going back to work set in. I barely see my baby during the week. I pick her up from the babysitter's and she's in bed an hour and a half later. On the weekends, we are so busy, I don't usually have dedicated time to play with her. Is this how I want her to grow up?

On the resort, we would live, work and play in the same place. We'd hire a staff to do most of the labor, leaving our family free to surf, explore, play, learn, read, write, whatever. Our daughter would be with us and we as her parents will be her primary caregivers. That is a beautiful possibility.

That is the sunshine happy potential. I do realize that there is more to this - there are consequences too.

This adventure has enormous risk. We're talking about taking whatever wealth we have built up in twenty combined years in the workforce and risking it all on a business venture that may not succeed. What if we choose the wrong location? What if the constrution is shoddy? What if we can't overcome the language barrier? What if we can't find competent staff? What if we can't attract guests? These are all business risks that we have to work through and mitigate.

In addition, we are moving to the other side of the world. Yes, I have some family in the Philippines. But I haven't been back there for almost fifteen years. We won't have the support system that we have in Charlotte. My mother is only thirty minutes away. On a remote island, who would we trust?

The fear is there. But the hope is so much stronger.