Part 1: We Chose to Retire at 38 To Travel With Our Kids Forever

We are the Lev-Rans: Liron, (37), and Yoav (38), a very average couple of parents from Hadera, Israel, together with our two children Amit (8), and Gil (6) decided to leave everything behind to start traveling the world.

We bid farewell to family and friends, quitted our jobs, rented out the house, and got rid of our belongings.

With only four backpacks and two suitcases, it's July 10, 2023 and we are one-way from Israel. Destination: Innsbruck, Austria. Return date: None.

This post is about us and the process we went through until a decision was made to take a leap and embark on our journey, one that we hope will never come to an end.

I consider myself a practical person who tends to analyze situations and make decisions that I can explain. Honestly, I can't recall the last time I made a decision purely driven by emotion. At work, I am an organization and planning machine. Every task is accompanied by a Gantt chart, an Excel table, or a to-do list. Regarding the management of our household, Liron might think differently, but I take pride in being neat and, dare I say, handy?!

Anyway, when it comes to maintaining order and organization, Liron is the true champion. She manages the family budget down to the Penny and on a daily basis. With time I learned that my standard of folding clothes fails to meet her meticulous quality control, and friends often tease her that the sink "beeps" if any dishes are left behind.

This sense of order permeated the kids, shaping their habits and routines. Our home operates on a clear agenda. Everyone knows when to wake up, when to sleep, the allotted screen time per day, etc. We could have extensive discussions about our educational worldview, but that's a topic for another post.

The decision to live life of continuous journey was logical

Prior to departure, I worked as an Internal Auditor for a large company. A job you might think is boring, but in fact I was privileged of delving into various parts of the company worldwide again and again. My work was incredibly fascinating and took me on countless trips alongside co-workers who eventually became a second family to me and we still maintain strong bonds of friendship. I spent approximately 10 to 12 weeks per year traveling for work, venturing to captivating destinations, immersing myself in new cultures, and encountering individuals I wouldn't have met otherwise. Each place had its unique work methods, which added an extra layer of interest and learning.

Excitement was also in the air for Liron. After a few years she worked in a job she hated and quitted during Covid-19, Liron completed her second year in a new challenging role as a CPA in a Global Tax Department of another large company in Israel. She was genuinely happy to wake up and go to the office.

So we loved our jobs... but to talk about our motivation to change our way of life, we need to go further back in time.

We May have reached our destination

I vividly recall the moment in August 2015, just before Amit, our eldest child was born. I told Liron that the next five years are going to be rough and we just have to get through them together. We had already decided to have two children, and it was important to us that they would become the best of friends. Consequently, we believed that keeping the age gap between them relatively small would facilitate this bond. We assumed that life would get back to normal only once our youngest child is at least three years old, here is the math: we determined that welcoming our second child within two years (2017), followed by three years of nurturing the little one, would lead us to the challenging five-year milestone. And now, looking back, I can confidently say it wasn't easy. Both Liron and I can attest that until 2020, we found ourselves caught up in the familiar routine that many young parents face. It's a loop that, when you're immersed in it, leaves you questioning life's purpose and destination. At times, I questioned my own motivations for willingly having two children, who drained all of my time, sanity, and energy. Thinking about it, I guess this is my last decision driven by emotion. I just love Liron so much. And that's what kept the whole thing going: Liron and my promise to myself that soon it will pass. And surprisingly it worked!

Towards the end of 2019, our children were nearly 5 and 3 years old, and we finally felt that life was returning to a sense of normalcy. After enduring years of sleepless nights, the kids were growing, and the nights had become peaceful once again. I had just returned from a work trip to the Netherlands, which I combined with a visit to Prague for a friend's bachelor party when the news started telling about some new disease in China. In February 2020, I even managed to squeeze in a skiing trip with another friend in France. Before we left, the news broke of four confirmed cases of COVID-19 in France, and within a matter of two weeks, borders were closed, bringing my wanderlust to a halt. I have always cherished traveling, and suddenly, I found myself facing 21 months without setting foot abroad. Ironically, my first post-coronavirus flight was to India, where we were handed transparent face shields to wear throughout the entire flight, in addition to the obligatory masks.

The coronavirus pandemic became a pivotal moment in my life. It forced me to see things from a perspective I had never considered before its arrival. What used to seem routine and ordinary suddenly gained newfound significance when I couldn't even leave the house. The simple act of obtaining a small inflatable pool to provide some relief for the children became an enormous achievement. It taught me about proportion and gave me the ability to appreciate the things that were once taken for granted. This ignited a need for change within me. While it wasn't immediately clear what exactly was required, we started thinking about moving to another city in Israel. The catalyst was the discovery that Amit showed signs of being a gifted child, yet there were limited educational options for gifted students in our area. In fact, as of the end of 2020, there were only six elementary classes for gifted children throughout the entire state of Israel. One of them happened to be in Haifa, prompting us to consider relocating. We had even come close to finalizing a deal to build a new house, which would have entailed taking out an additional mortgage of NIS 1.5 million. Fortunately, the deal fell through, and while we started checking an option to move to Kfar-Saba, Liron's father got sick, prompting us to put our transition plans on hold. Thankfully, he has since recovered and is in good health today.

The combination of a global pandemic claiming millions of lives, our stalled plans to move houses, repeated lockdowns, and Liron's father falling ill... the dots have started to connect, raising a monumental question in my mind.

It was yet another day of working from home due to the pandemic when I turned to Liron and asked her where this entire journey was leading us. She gave me a perplexed look, so I explained: We had achieved what many consider to be the traditional milestones of life. We had a house, a growing family, and jobs that we genuinely enjoyed. But what now? Are we destined to continue this pattern until we reach retirement age? Will our days be defined by the repetitive routine, simply allowing the years to pass us by, hoping that we'll be healthy enough at age 67 to truly start living?

So, what do you want? Asked Liron.

A profound question indeed!

Our life path has been well-defined and paved since birth. School, military service, higher education, work, marriage, home, and children. Now, at this point, we can confidently say that, without delving into the specifics, we have ticked off most of these boxes. So, what more do we want? Another promotion at work? A new role? Perhaps a fancier car? None of those things hold any real significance for me.

I have everything I need, and anything I don't have is likely unnecessary (sang once an Israeli singer). I want nothing.

What I yearn for is our time. Throughout the week, our primary concerns revolve around getting the children ready on time, commuting to the office, and when we return home, exhausted from traffic, we simply long for the children to go to bed so that we can fall asleep in front of the TV. Admittedly, weekends and vacations do exist, but if we truly calculate, maybe only 10% of our time is spent doing what we genuinely want to do. We must change this ratio in our favor, and we must do it now.

What does this mean, exactly?

It means we need to stop working, withdraw our children from their structured environments, and embark on a journey to explore the world.

"Okay," Liron asked, "but how exactly do you envision making that happen?"

I replied honestly, "I have no idea, but someone must have done it before us."

And so, I began my search, stumbling upon an Israeli blogger who had not only accomplished this feat but had been living this way for over a decade with three children. We delved into more reading, engaging in discussions about the possibilities, and ultimately decided together that it was indeed feasible.

The questions that immediately flooded our minds were the same questions posed by everyone we shared our plans with, and they consistently followed a predictable sequence:

"How are you going to fund that?"

"What about the children's education?"

"And you're giving up your jobs?"

"Don't you find it challenging to be together 24 hours a day?"

"And what about friends for the children? And family?"

These questions are valid and even now, as we find ourselves in the midst of this experience, having already left everything behind, we still cannot claim to possess clear-cut answers. We have crafted an economic model that we believe in, and we have faith that we can provide our children with a quality education at home. Yes, we have quit our jobs, and yes, being together 24 hours a day presents its own set of challenges. However, as a rational person who recognized the need for more family time and embraced the belief that change was possible, it simply didn't make sense to continue on the same life path and not accept the challenge. Friends and family, particularly for the children, are indeed sacrifices. That is the true trade-off. We understand that if this dream becomes a lasting reality, our children may not have deep-rooted connections or a full understanding of what "childhood friends" truly means.