We find ourselves at a rockclimbing exhibit a few years ago.
My boy Jack, then 6 looks up at three paths.
The easy path with lots of handholds. The hard path with few handholds and tricky angles.
To Jack, it’s not a choice. He tells the attendant “Our family rule is that we do everything the hard way.”
Too true. He tries to go up the hard way – his first time rockclimbing. Admirable, but foolhardy.
Our family. Same deal. A wind sprint from the couch.
We eloped and didn’t have the support and sendoff from the people that loved us. This put us on a rocky path.
We bought real estate in the ghetto. The place where the cap rates were high, but the tenants were even higher. That was the overhead lesson. (Thank you, Robert Kiyosaki).
I changed jobs every 2 years or so to chase away wanderlust.
We’re both stubborn people and we wanted justice at the expense of everything else. Someone had to be right, someone had to be wrong.
We didn’t take care of our health. Good genetics kept us out of the hospital.
We sold all we owned and then packed everything we owned – everything – and put it in a minivan to get a change of scenery and we moved from Columbus to Portland.
Then, Heather was enrolled in an intense program that selects a select few and works them hard.
With a 3 and a 6 year old.
That’s the hard way.
That’s how we did things. There’s more: taking on overhead, running a startup. It was ugly and it was terrible.
Now, we’ve gotten Heather earning income. We’ve gotten into a house that we love. Everything – everything should be easier.