What Is Your Source of Income?

Families who want to travel or are traveling often get asked this question. We have multiple streams of income and the one that’s been around the longest is Spinhead Web Design.

In paradoxical leap worthy of Dr. Who, the Spinhead website has reverted to our design from September of 2002, based on Joel’s favorite Dr. Seuss book I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew.

Spinhead website with theme based on Dr. Seuss book

Paradoxical, because Joel has completely updated the 10-year-old code, and converted it to a WordPress theme, making it about as up-to-date as you can get.

Maybe you don’t want to go back to the future—but is it time your website at least joined us in the present?

Why We’re Not Crazy

Amidst all the excitement and enthusiasm, some very real consternation has surfaced among some who know us. Since its source is their genuine concern for us, and since others may well be thinking the same things, I thought it was time to clarify things so y’all know you don’t have to worry about us.

First and foremost, I will never knowingly endanger my family’s well-being or happiness. My primary job is to care for my wife and daughter, in part, by caring for myself.

And the first of the first is our spiritual well-being. Whether or not you share a specific religious bent, you certainly realise that there is more to life than what we eat and what we wear. I know that there are things more important than me, that the Greater Good outweighs my personal benefit, and, by extension, my family’s. We plan to continue, and, if possible, increase our volunteer work, and have plans in place to reinforce ourselves to offset the potential instability traveling can introduce.

Which brings up the second point: stability. Don’t we need a home, a car, a fixed place, to provide our daughter the life a 6-year-old needs?

No, we don’t. What she needs is not things, but people. The love of her family, undivided attention, counsel and guidance, correction and discipline, play and adventure—those, she needs. She does not need to live in the same house for five years, or know that the store is only five minutes by car. Those are luxuries which the bulk of the world lives without every single day. I want her to know that.

As far as luxuries, here’s a sneaky little tidbit: I firmly believe our standard of living is about to experience a serious upgrade. Now, we’re pretty frugal. We live a simple life. But not a life of deprivation. We love good food. We love sitting in front of a great movie on TV. We love good music (and my room full of musical instruments and recording equipment.) We like sturdy fun clothing, and maybe more than anything else, we like sleeping in a nice soft bed.

I’m not giving that stuff up. We’re not planning on using our backpacks for pillows as we collapse exhausted under the hedgerows. That’s no kind of life, and not what we’re seeking.

But we’re not materialistic. We have far more stuff than we could possibly need or will ever use. If we got rid of 90% of it, we’d barely miss it. Even if we decide to call this whole adventure off, that’s still gonna happen because we’re just plain tired of being responsible for all this stuff.

How can we possibly make a living if we’re traveling? Well, my short answer to that is, I sure haven’t been wildly successful making a living by not traveling. My last two jobs disappeared overnight when the companies shut down. Our own companies have started growing, finally, and that’s the very reason travel has become essential. There is plenty of work for us, but for now, we need to go to the work, since it’s not coming to us.

Aren’t we biting off more than we can chew? Not yet. Sure, there’s a banquet on the table. Right now, we’ve simply put a nice salad on our plate. The only thing we’ve committed to at this point is that we’ll be in Vancouver for most of the month of August. After that, we could come home and announce that the experiment is over and we’re done. It’s not likely, but for now, we’re not committing to anything without knowing what we’re getting ourselves into. This is an experiment, and each step is a gentle testing of the ground to ensure that we don’t lose our footing.

Sure; I’ve shared some wild goals here, talking about living without most of our possessions, a home and car, all that. It’s still the plan.

But plans change. We can’t foretell the future any better than anyone else. But we’d rather choose a future and try to make it happen than to simply sit here and let life be something which happens to us.

We’re seeking a simpler life, not a more complicated one. We’re trying to need less stuff and have more time.

We’ve settled on some tentative goals; I’ll share those later. But even those are subject to review and adjustment every step of the way.

Like I said: we know we can swim, but we’re still gonna make sure there’s water in the pool before we jump in.

It’s Work, Not a Vacation

Nice thing about believing that there’s no such thing as work/life balance is that we can mingle the two, or separate them, at will.

Sue wrote a great post at our Chief Virtual Officer site explaining that we want to add a more human dimension to our virtual work. Meeting folks in real life is enthralling; shaking hands and hugging and sharing a meal; seeing the look on their face when they grasp what you’re teaching; showing our daughter that there are real people out there, not just avatars on a Facebook page.

Our goal isn’t to retire with our immeasurable wealth in order to frequent the hotspots of the nouveau riche; our goal is to live, every single day; to work and love and share and learn and live.

House Concerts Along the Way

Could I possibly end up performing in St. Helens, Oregon, Everett, Washington, and Vancouver? (Edit: St. Helens is out, this trip.)

House concerts beat coffee shops hands down. Coffee shops are really a place to go practice, knowing that absolutely no one is listening.

But show up to someone’s living room, where they’ve invited all their friends, and everyone brings something to drink and a snack, and you’re the guest host of a very cool party. When the hat is passed, literally or metaphorically, even a few drachmas from each guest turns into more than I’ve earned in every coffee shop I’ve ever played in.

There’s more than you really want to know about my house concerts at my tunehenge site.

More of the Plan

The long-term goal is to own nothing but what we can carry in a few suitcases, besides a few possessions too expensive or emotionally precious to replace. This isn’t meant to be Sherman’s march to the sea, slashing and burning as we go. At some point it’s likely we’ll come back to a more traditional lifestyle, and I’ll regret getting rid of all my books and my Dad’s stuff.

We rent our home right now, so we won’t have to sell anything that huge. Sue’s son might find a roomie or two and stay here, meaning we’d have an attic to store stuff in, an address to get mail at, and a place to sleep when we’re in town. Otherwise, we have dozens of friends who’d offer a room, an address, whatever we need.

We’ve got a tentative test trip planned for August 2nd through the 24th-ish. We’d be house-sitting just outside Vancouver, British Columbia. I mentioned the trip to a close friend today and he talked endlessly about the marvelous vacation he and his wife took there; about the mind-boggling beauty of the scenery.

Sue discovered that another one of her virtual assistant contacts is in Vancouver. She was going to track her down when she noticed late this afternoon that said VA had Tweeted something about looking for accountability partners to help her take her business to the next level . . . so tomorrow, we have a call planned to talk about arranging some sort of workshop (or workshops) while we’re there.

In the spirit of transparency, if we can make $600 in extra income while we’re there (beyond what we would have earned staying home) it will completely cover the cost of the trip. And if the big web job we’ve signed issues the first payment within the next month (almost a foregone conclusion) we’ll even have the funds up front, seed money, so to speak, and earn it back on the trip. Lather rinse repeat.

Might make a pre-dry-run (yeah, I just make this stuff up) to San Diego in July. Don’t tell Sue. If we can arrange a small informal event in LA and one in San Diego, we could make up the $300 that trip would cost.

These trips would let us test out what it’s like to work completely remotely. My wonky little Sony Vaio laptop; Sue on her son’s borrowed Dell beast (don’t tell him, either.)

Skype calls? Have to test. No headphones. Do we take speakers? Do we take the musician-quality microphones we’re used to using?

House concerts: if I could connect with folks who’d host a house concert, I show up, play music for an hour, pass a hat, play for another half hour.

Video everything (already a habit.) Take notes about everything (already a habit.)

Van needs rear tires and rear brakes. And windshield wipers.

There must be a dozen things I’m forgetting.