Reflections
Most of our inner circle has been remarkably supportive as we trade our Rocky Mountain yuppie life for a life-stage August season on an Eastern Kentucky farm. I’d like to think we’ve even inspired a few friends, in ever how small a way, to reconsider their own trajectories. However, the fact remains: some people think we’ve completely lost the plot.
I’m perfectly fine with being the “crazy” ones.
• “You’re in the middle of nowhere.” Exactly. That’s the entire point.
• “It’s an exhausting amount of work.” Rehabilitating 50 acres isn’t a chore; it’s a labor of love.
• “The neighbors are… simple.” Maybe they’re onto something we’ve forgotten.
• “The skiing is a joke.” True, but we actually had snow this winter—which is more than the Rockies can say lately.
• “The architecture is a step down.” Our Kentucky farmhouse doesn’t hold a candle to our CO “executive estate,” but a house is just a shell we can renovate to our liking. And we’ve got a fish pond, multiple streams, and private waterfalls.
• “You’ve lost your mountaineering objectives.” I traded one backyard for another. In exchange for rocky, icy peaks, I have more reservoir acreage than I can paddle, hidden arches, underground caverns, and the quiet dignity of these ancient Appalachian summits.
If we had chosen a life that was hazardous or immoral, your concerns would be a kindness. But we’ve simply chosen a more laid-back pace and a different kind of beautiful.
The Response
To the naysayers: Our life is not your life. You aren’t the ones who have to survive the renovation, clean the coop, or break your back coaxing this land back to life. That’s our burden and our privilege. Sit back and enjoy the stories from afar—or better yet, come see for yourself.
To our supporters: Mike and I are living in real-time technicolor, and your cheers keep the engine running. We are counting the days until the farmhouse is guest-ready so we can share this piece of the dream with you. Thank you for not calling us crazy—even if you’re thinking it.
Your Key Takeaway
A metamorphosis of this magnitude only happens a few times in a lifetime. When the Good Lord hands you the keys to a new existence, you don’t drive with the brakes on.
Some people will be shocked by your evolution. Let them be. It is their job to adjust to your new horizon; it is never your responsibility to shrink your dreams to fit their comfort zone. If you aren’t living a life that confuses at least a few people, you probably aren’t dreaming big enough.