I Quit My Job and Moved to Panama

Deciding to live life on my own terms.

Photo by: Adam Murauskas

I had lots of time to think during my 60-mile daily commute.

I listened to audiobooks, podcasts, and sometimes music. Occasionally, I called my sisters or close friends. Mostly I drove in silence, pondering my life.

I had long internal conversations that conjured various questions about my purpose.

The heaviest question, the one that took my breath, was, if money, time, and resources didn’t matter — what would I do?

How could I utilize my time, talents, and energy to enjoy my life and make a difference in the world? Surely, there must be other options.

I left a lucrative corporate career to work for a small sporting goods company with a Camelot culture. It was a unique haven of passion and authenticity filled with bright, generous people. It was my tribe, and I loved helping athletes of all ages improve their skills.

Unfortunately, a year in, the company was bought by a conglomerate focused on profits, not our people or the athletes we served. I stayed eight months praying the transition would smooth out and we could get our positive juju back, but it never came.

When my commute became filled with dread in the morning and tears in the afternoon, I knew it was time to leave.

The question transformed into, what’s next? Candidly, I was proud of myself for pausing to even ask.

As the child of a 35-year factory autoworker, I have a penchant for the certainty of a steady paycheck. My mind screamed, get another job! Stay in the safety and security of the 9-to-5, even if it’s a complete sham.

Yet, in the quiet of my commute, I could feel the nudge toward something different.

What that actually was, I never imagined.

Journey’s that matter most rarely come with a map ~ Seth Godin

My husband and I were ready for professional changes. We dreamed of starting our own businesses but couldn’t afford to live in our hometown and not get paid.

I also craved an adventure. Sure, we could move to a small town in rural America and live inexpensively. Yet, I kept feeling that internal nudge to dig deeper. Where else could we go?

I literally googled, where can you live in the world on $25K a year?

It turns out, lots of places. Thailand, Portugal, Spain, Belize, Ecuador, and Panama are all promoted as great options to live inexpensively.

Reluctant waves of excitement flowed through me as I thought about living in another country. Who does this? Could we really live outside the US?

While living in Europe or Asia has a strong appeal, I didn’t want a vast time difference between friends and family. This left the Central and South American countries to consider. Above the rest, Panama kept sticking out.

The tiny isthmus country of Panama has a stable government and thriving international business base due to the transportation phenomenon of the Panama Canal. The canal provides security, structure, and resources that other countries just don’t have.

With its easy access to the States, the official currency of the Dollar, and thriving ex-pat communities that speak a mixture of English and Spanish, I grew more connected to the potential.

A gal can only do so much internet research. It all sounded fantastic, but I had to visit and see for myself. I was curious about the Panamanian vibe toward gringos and social norms that an in-person experience would reveal.

Boquete is a lush mountain town of 30,000 residents, including 3,500 ex-pats. While Panama City and the beach communities are hot and humid, the mountain region has average temperatures in the 70s year-round.

With a moderate climate and gorgeous mountain views, Boquete is a vacation destination for Panamanians with a bit of money. It has a small-town feel with a few dozen stores, restaurants, and a beautiful library. There are numerous fresh produce stands, a plethora of outdoor activities, and award-winning coffee.

While Boquete is safe and pleasant, it’s not The States. Was I willing to adjust to the nuances and cultural differences of living abroad?

My biggest fear was willingly stepping into uncertainty.

What sealed the deal was the people. We met three couples and a handful of others that were unbelievably kind and generously helpful with our hundreds of unrelenting questions.

Most of all, their eyes shined with presence and peace.

I felt their inextricable joy in deliberately choosing a slower, simpler pace of life.

That was exactly what I craved.

Terrifying Yet Completely Doable

Change is hard, and making significant life-altering decisions is not for the faint of heart. It takes courage to see past the initial waves of fear into the full potential of our lives.

I can’t tell you how many times I cried, ate dark chocolate, crushed a workout, ate more dark chocolate, went for a run, froze in fear, and subsequently went into robot task mode for the few months leading up to our move.

There were hundreds of decisions and tasks to tackle, and it took an exhausting amount of energy to prioritize and execute.

One of the biggest mental obstacles was deciding what to do with all our possessions. We could check eleven 50-pound bags into the flight, plus two carry-ons. Some of the best advice we received was to bring the things we used daily.

For me, cooking is essential. This meant dedicating two of our eleven bags to our food processor, Vitamix, cookware, and kitchen utensils that we use consistently.

Sorting through the contents of our lives is no easy task. Thankfully, we sold many items through online stores and apps and hosted a few yard sales. Many things we gave away to neighbors and friends or donated to Goodwill.

While moving abroad takes a tremendous amount of detailed work, it’s entirely doable.

As with any large-scale project, we developed a fluid plan of tasks and priorities and talked about it regularly as more information became available. We enlisted experts, unabashedly asked lots of questions, and when we needed it, we weren’t afraid to call on friends, neighbors, vendors, and even strangers for help.

Detaching from my professional identity was the piece that conjured heart-pounding anguish.

Who would I be if I no longer worked? This uncertainty was terrifying.

On my last day in the office, our leader and I shared an intentionally long hug, and he kindly whispered, “Are you sure?”

We’d been through an emotionally charged, tumultuous year of acquisition. I cared deeply about my teammates. And, while I loved the idea of our company, reality didn’t match.

I had come too far to consciously choose to stay in a daily grind of unnecessary struggle, stress, and blows to my integrity.

I was scared out of my mind, yet I knew I had to try. We could always come back. I could always get another job if things didn’t work out.

But if I didn’t leap now, I would never know what could have been.

The Path Forward

After a long, stressful day of travel, customs, and immigration, we arrived in Panama City. It was 9:00 PM when we walked out of the airport into the thick, humid air pushing carts of luggage.

We hired a local transportation guru to assist with a variety of logistics. At the time, our Spanish was unreliable. José’s calm confidence and true Panama Jack style helped us navigate entry into the country with welcomed humor and a small sense of ease.

As we put the last bag into José’s van, he stopped me.

“We have your family, your pets, and all your bags safely here in Panama,” he said. “Now is the hard part. You must bring your mind to Panama to find what you are seeking.”

I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears I discovered streaming down my face. Within an hour of meeting this benevolent man, he’d read me like an open book and called out my most significant challenge.

José drove us with our three pets and thirteen bags across the country, seven hours to Boquete. As I intermittently napped and stared out the window at the lush, tropical landscape that was our new home, the freedom of our decision began to sink in.

It was a Friday afternoon, and for the first time in decades, I didn’t have any sales reports to file or PowerPoint presentations to finish before kicking off the weekend.

When I chose to prioritize my happiness, my life became a perpetual weekend.

Searching for the Comforts of Home

The people of Boquete are extraordinary. We woke up on our first morning to welcome messages, connections, and helpful resources. Days quickly filled with house hunting, car shopping, and learning our way around the area.

It’s a unique, life-altering process to quit your job, sell your stuff, and move to another country. We shared this commonality with 3,500 other townspeople, and many of them generously stepped up to ease our transition.

While I wish I could tell a story of immediately arriving in Panama and being enveloped by sensations of serenity and grace — that’s not what happened.

Amidst dozens of life changes, different cultural norms, and a daily treasure hunt for food and household supplies, I found myself entrenched in doubt. I was challenged to make even the smallest decisions and obsessively questioned everything.

I felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of change and the absence of certainty. My mind reeled, replaying our decision and reaching for the comforts of home that didn’t currently exist.

However, the more people we met, the more relief I found. Folks shared stories of their arrival and acclimation process. Over and over, I heard encouragement to be patient, give myself grace, and ask for help when I need it.

This sense of communal camaraderie was instrumental in easing my anxiety and indecision. When a question arose about living in a particular area, reliable cell phone providers, or where to find household items — all I had to do was text a few folks, and thoughtful options arrived.

Freedom Arises Through Making Hard Choices

I quit my job and unofficially retired the day after my 44th birthday. This act was both terrifying and unbelievably liberating.

I never dreamed I could live on my own terms. I thought I needed permission to choose myself and my happiness.

For most of my life, I was stuck in societal norms of what I thought I was supposed to do — work till near death, trading time for money, and buying frivolous things that helped me feel important and secure.

Then I realized I get to choose.

I had to remind myself that I’m a capable adult and I have choices.

With the stressful busyness and unrelenting pace of the daily grind, it’s easy to forget.

On those long commutes home, I remembered that I have a say. I get to decide where I live, and most importantly, I get to decide how and with whom I share my time, talents, and energy.

The most precious gift in this life is my time. If I don’t cherish and protect it, no one else will.

I was resolute from early on that I would use this sabbatical to focus on self-care and healing. I wanted to challenge myself to stop incessantly doing and learn to simply be.

The intention is to quiet my mind so that my soul’s purpose may shine through.

The Gifts of Living Abroad

My husband and I rented a two-bedroom home on a mountainside lemon farm around 4,200 feet in elevation. We have hot water, pretty good internet, and a large covered porch where we spend most of our time.

Being high up provides a fantastic view of the lush, tropical mountains. When it’s clear, we can see 50 miles to the Pacific Ocean and the multitude of sandy islands that dot the coastline.

The quiet is my favorite aspect. I hear birds, crickets, frogs, rain, and an occasional cow, but that’s it. The consistent peace of being surrounded by nature is a tremendous gift.

I love to sit on our back porch and watch the clouds form and dissipate. When anxiety creeps in, this contemplative activity helps me reconnect to my breath, allowing emotions to flow through and release.

I’ve also discovered an eclectic group of new friends. As we got involved in local groups and activities, a tribe of like-minded people appeared. We’ve made friends through our hiking group, meditation meet-ups, and volunteer opportunities.

Today is the one-year anniversary of our arrival in Panama.

I never dreamed we would actually make the leap, let alone successfully manage to adjust to life abroad so quickly. Compared to the gal who arrived last year, I’m a different person.

I see the benefits of deliberate self-care and holistic health in my physical and emotional presence. My body feels strong and energized, and my mind is open and aware.

My new normal resides in a content state of acceptance and grace. And I’m grateful for this time to replenish and write.

I feel the rewards of detoxing from constant busyness and stress deep within the marrow of my bones. My nervous system has been rewired by the peaceful companionship of nature that surrounds me.

As if a key unlocked the secret door to my true potential, for the first time, I feel that I am living my life’s purpose.

Today, the paralyzing fear of saying goodbye to my friends and family, career, and conveniences is gone.

In its place has grown an overwhelming sense of being guided that can only be described as faith.

. . .

Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.