Stepping Out of Your Zone

This seems to be a human condition that surpasses all ages, genders, and social/economic status. We all experience it on our first day of school, our first game, our first date, our first job, etc.
One would think this would go away, or at least diminish in intensity, with experience and age. I thought it would. But it didn’t…
My wife and I are both successful professionals in our mid 50’s. We had been traveling and researching resorts and surfing in Central America for 25 years. We finally made a decision and bought property in southwestern Nicaragua in 2007, with the idea of building a small, upscale resort.
In Managua, we hired an architect, a consultant to help with all the foreign paperwork, and an attorney. And our stepping out of the comfort zone began.
My wife’s Sales/Marketing business was winding down, so this was a good time for her to assume new duties as project supervisor. She began doing extended stays of 2-4 months in Nicaragua, splitting her time between our project in Tola, Rivas, and Managua where she was enrolled in a Spanish school.
At first, it was exciting, despite the numerous problems, delays, miscommunications, etc that occurred almost daily. It was nice to have time to ourselves, we agreed. We both came from West Seneca,a small town in Western NY. We started dating in high school, got engaged during college, and were off to California the day after we were married.
But slowly, as the project took on its own velocity and demanding identity, doubts began to creep into our conversations: “Do you think we made a good choice?” “Will this ever get built” “The carpenters still haven’t shown up?” “Are we crazy” “what are we doing?”
Now, almost three years later, we are just about ready to open. Only a few weeks away. We have survived a very expensive architect, 2 contractors, a shipping container nightmare, the rainiest rainy season on record with road washouts, sink-holes, river crossings with water up to the windshield (and that’s just the part Casey would tell me about!) We’ve spent most of the last 2 years apart, (save for Skype), hired and fired a number of workers, and slowly watched our once formidable portfolio dwindle down to a shadow.
I have difficulty sleeping at times. My stomach churns. I get headaches.I feel alone-I am here working in San Francisco, and Casey is down in Nicaland. Our son is in Santa Monica. Our parents are in Buffalo. What in the hell are we doing?
Then my rational voice tells me. We are stepping out. We are going for our dream. If it was easy, everyone would do it. We’re almost there…
I am down at Soma, sitting on the steps in front of our bungalow. I can see the Popoyo outer reef barely breaking. To the east are the pastures with the teak farm. Volcanoes rise in the distance. Birds are chirping. Cows are grazing and I just watched a couple riding horses on the beach. Workers in an oxcart are hauling firewood to Las Salinas. The east breeze is warm. The sun is on my face, and I think that this is an amazing place.
This is our new home.

Bill Morton
Soma Surf Resort Nicaragua

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