The Reboot Family is Moving to Austin, Texas!

Most people underestimate the power of incremental change.

Tony Robbins powerfully illustrates in his motivational seminars that even a 1 millimeter shift in trajectory can yield astonishing results over time.

But what happens when you don't have the luxury of time?

What happens when the clock is running and your life and the lives of your family are on the line?

Times like these call for a hard reboot.

After three extremely eventful years in the San Francisco Bay Area, my wife and I realized that while our careers were accelerating at breakneck speed, we still weren't healthy, wealthy, or even happy.

In fact, our accounts were severely overdrawn in each of these areas.

My soul-crushing commute coupled with my demanding (yet extremely fulfilling) job resulted in nearly zero family time. Aside from hurriedly dropping the kids off at school in the mornings, I didn't see them at all during the week days. They were sound asleep by the time I got home around 8:00 pm or later every night.

After the birth of our second child, my wife was struggling with her decision to return to work. Her heart was with our babies, and she wanted desperately to come home and be with them. But the math didn't work out.

Meanwhile, I was eating myself to an early grave to cope with the stress.

My marriage and my health were at the brink of total collapse. And while I derived immense satisfaction and fulfillment from my job, the sheer cost of raising two kids in one of the world's most expensive markets was draining our bank accounts at an alarming rate.

Something had to change.

Unsure of what to do, I spent a long time just feeling trapped and hopeless. Like I was destined to die young and alone, and I might as well just get used to the idea.

But I couldn't get used to it.

So I do what I always do when I feel confused and directionless.

I consulted a spreadsheet.

I mapped out our budget and tried like crazy to get it to balance. It wouldn't.

Childcare, student loans, housing, and other cost of living factors were all conspiring against us. It seemed hopeless, unless we did something drastic.

"We could move," I suggested to my wife one day as we were discussing the stress vortex that had enveloped our lives.

She looked at me with a glint of something in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. Hope.

"But you love your job. And you've always wanted to work in tech," she protested weakly.

It's true. I do love my job. I was employee number 25 for a hot tech startup that is doing its part to make the world a better place. I have a team that I care for deeply and I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction and affirmation from helping to mentor and guide them through their careers and lives.

But where I live and where I work doesn't have to be mutually exclusive.

It was a long shot, but I gathered up all the gumption and optimism I could and explained the situation to my boss. I told him what was at stake and gave him my proposal — I wanted to move to Austin, Texas and work from home half the time and from the office in California half the time. I'd take a pay cut to offset travel expenses, and I'd attend all meetings remotely whenever I was away.

To my amazement he said yes.

And so did the rest of the executive team.

I think this says a lot more about the quality of people that I work with than it does about me. I'm acutely aware that most companies would've quoted some BS policy and ushered me out the door if I had dared to suggest anything so preposterous. But my company didn't. And as a result, they've literally saved my life and my marriage.

This move also makes it possible for my wife to stay home with the kids and invest in her own development. She'll be starting her own business, Limitless Team Enterprises, and will be positively impacting the lives of women across the world.

As I write this, I'm honestly still in a little bit of shock that this is happening. But I know this will be an amazing new chapter for our family, and I can't wait to see what's next.