We started with
a dream.

I was three months past a layoff I'd seen coming for a year, and bone-tired in a way that sleep didn't fix. My family was fine on paper and unraveling underneath it. I was doing what most of us do — running just hard enough to keep the bills paid, telling myself the bigger life would happen later.

Then came the dream. I was standing at the edge of a cliff somewhere — Patagonia, maybe, or one of those places you see on a screensaver and tell yourself you'll get to. And someone leaned over — I'll say it was God because that's what it felt like — and asked one question:

When are you going to stop working just to pay the bills and actually live the life I gave you?

I woke up shaking. I wrote it on the back of an envelope. Two days later I called my wife from the parking lot of a Trader Joe's and said: I think we're starting a travel company.

That's where this brand comes from. Not a marketing brainstorm. A 3 a.m. confrontation. Live like you're dying — because you are, and so am I, and the only question is what you'll do with the runway you have left. We built Live Like Your Dying Travel for the people who felt that same nudge.