So you want to be a Living the Dream GIF?
That’s what I caught myself asking… myself as I absorbed the realization:.
You’ve sold everything you own.
You’ve packed the kids, the dogs, and the rats into an RV.
Your storytelling event capes are MIA.
And your perfect, on-brand green slug bug? Doesn’t fit the tow dolly. So you buy a boring gray box-on-wheels the literal day you’re supposed to leave town.
And yet?
Now. Here I am. In a campground outside West Yellowstone.
Running Facebook ads.
Booking tour stops.
Trying to remember how to regulate my nervous system.
This wasn’t the plan.
(There was no plan.)
But I’ve got stories, splinters, and a GPS that keeps yelling “recalculating.”
So I’m here to tell you what it actually takes to become a real-life living the dream gif.
Step 1: Sell all your possessions.
The Pinterest version of a living the dream might have laminated maps and matching outfits.
I’d downsized everything I owed from a 4000 sq. ft. house into a 33 foot R.V.
What did I have? Grease up to my elbows, a broken dolly ramp, and a slug bug that was cute but useless.
Piles and piles of books. And zero capes. I really needed those capes.
This is the part where you look around at what you have left and make do.
Where you learn that the dream doesn’t start when it’s perfect.
It starts when you’re sprinting between a mobile welder and a car dealership and that little voice is whispering,
“Welp… guess we’re really doing this.”
Step 2: Shed a Tear, Curse a Little, Keep on Trucking
When the car broke, I broke a little, too.
I’d quit my job.
Sold everything.
Bet on a storytelling movement I can feel in my bones—but can’t prove with data.
I’d bet my future—and my kids’—on this.
“Good moms say bad words, good moms say bad words…..” Everythings going to be okay.
And then the welder showed up.
Another vet. And through my grit and panic, he saw my purpose.
He gave me tips on where to go when I was down south, but wouldn’t take my money.
He just tipped his hat and gave me a knowing “you’ve got this.”
And right then, in a parking lot full of chaos, something welded itself back together inside me, too.
Three hours later, after we figure out how to strap the new car down, we were finally on the road.
Step 3: Surrender to the flow… and Call It a Movement
Dillon was our first event.
We were capeless. It wasn’t pretty.
We improvised like champs.
And by the time it was over, every kid there had more books than they came with.
That’s the secret sauce. It was always meant to happen this way.
Story Shaping doesn’t follow an outline or a map. It’s a bumpy, windy road with amazing views.
It’s co-authorship in real time.
It’s handing kids a story and saying, “What do you think should happen next?”
Let Me Leave You With This:
If you’re going to live the dream, don’t expected it to be scripted.
Go without the plan.
Lean into the imperfection.
Take one small, “what if?” and run wild with all the possibilities that could come of it.
That’s your permission slip.
The world doesn’t need more polished business cards.
It needs people willing to bet on messy magic.
So, if you’re off to building something wild…
If you’re chasing a story that won’t leave you alone…
Know you’re not alone.
And if you’re near one of our stops?
Come shape the next story with us.
We’ve got capes (finally!!!).
We’ve got chaos (always).
We’ve got space for you to live the dream.
