Yesterday, we received news that a mother within our extended family had passed away unexpectedly. A sudden loss like that shakes something deep inside. It reminds you, once again, how fragile life is. How short. And how precious.

In recent weeks, we’ve met many new people who, like us, have chosen a different way of living. The conversations we share often circle around the “why”. Why did we step out of the familiar? What called us to live more simply, more freely? It fascinates me to hear their reasons. So many of them echo our own: the death of a loved one, burnout, or a moment of clarity where you realise this can’t be it.

For us, it was all of the above. And more. We felt the urgency to live now, not later. We didn’t want to wait for retirement or for ‘someday’. The desire to spend more time with Philou, to live more connected to nature, to rediscover a natural rhythm, pulled us in this direction.

We both grew up with the belief that hard work is virtuous. That you should stand on your own two feet. That making a decent living is essential, preferably doing something you enjoy (which, let’s be honest, is already a life-long quest for many). And we did just that. Before we set sail, life was good. Very good. We had it all on paper: fulfilling jobs, a strong social circle, family nearby, a lovely home, holidays abroad, and above all, a happy family life.

In many ways, we were already rich.

For us, wealth meant having the freedom to do what we wanted, within reason. That belief became the compass for our journey. After Covid, the idea of spending more time on the water, away from rigid schedules, began to feel not just desirable but necessary. Even if it meant letting go of securities, this life called to us. We longed for something more spacious, more alive.

And so we left.

Of course, it’s not lost on us that our previous life made this one possible. We’re deeply grateful for the foundation that brought us here. But over time we’ve realised: real wealth is not measured in things or numbers, but in time.

Time with each other. Time with visiting family. Time with old friends, and the space to make new ones. Time to just be. To sit by the water. To laugh. To reflect. Yes, this life also takes time, shopping takes longer, boat maintenance even more so. But somehow, it feels different. Less rushed. More intentional.

There’s a certain magic in this way of living. It takes us places physically, emotionally, spiritually, even when we don’t know where we’re heading. Often, we look at each other and smile, filled with gratitude. Through all the highs and lows, this really is the life we envisioned.

Watching Philou grow up up close, every day, that’s priceless. Discovering how work fits into my life on my terms, and learning to enjoy it. Finding joy in writing, letting my thoughts roam freely. Because with time comes space. And with space comes clarity.

Don’t get me wrong. Even now, we don’t always feel like we have time. There’s still pressure, still demands. But it’s different. Because now, we get to choose.

That is true wealth.

We’re learning to let go of rigid plans, to move with the moment, to respond rather than control. It’s not always graceful. It’s often clumsy, uncertain, messy. But it’s ours. And it’s real.

Written by: Mirjam