Earlier this month, I stepped away from a respectable position at a reputable organization in the nonprofit sector. After twelve years of passionate, mission-driven work, I decided the time had come for a break. You might call it a “mid-career retirement”: I needed to take my foot off the gas and look after myself for a change. As a sector, we are notorious for caring for others, often neglecting our own lives and burning out repeatedly in the process. Professional passion can take you only so far before it consumes you, which is a disservice to you and your employer.

Last year, I was hit by two personal tragedies: my former boss died suddenly one week after announcing her retirement and, shortly thereafter, the wife of one of my best friends passed away after a long battle with cancer. These interwoven, yet very different deaths had a curious impact beyond grief. While I wrestled with mortality and the fragility of life, I also realized that I was fortunate to be alive, with my health intact and my loved ones close by. I resolved to live life to the fullest, to the best of my ability. This meant that I would have to find a better work-life balance. I never intended to become a workaholic, but somehow I fell into a rhythm of long days, evenings and frequent weekends. Far from being driven by a demanding employer, I pushed myself to perform better in service of the greater good. In time, I realized what I was doing and knew that I needed a hard reset.

Of course, we all set ourselves these types of goals—usually at the beginning of the year, after holiday excesses. This time was different. Together with my wife, I started to hatch a plan to travel the world. Kevin Kelly, Senior Maverick and co-founder of Wired Magazine, has said that travel is “the most intense form of education.” I couldn’t agree more. My wife is an administrator in public education and I am a communications professional. We are both committed to a path of life-long learning, which may explain our love for life on the road.

Whether we are walking through the streets of Athens or Istanbul, Thailand or Tahiti, we like to observe how locals go about their daily lives. We stay in rental apartments, shop at corner stores and cook most of our own meals, all of which stretch our limited financial resources further than a life of hotels and restaurants. We try to walk as much as we can, while being open to new possibilities and adventures. Usually, we manage to see the big tourist attractions and to veer off the beaten path as well. Our more memorable moments are often mundane or absurd, but they stay with us because they are different from our own habits at home or our preconceived notions of “normal” life. This kind of deep understanding of other cultures makes people more open-minded and tolerant toward others—qualities we could certainly use as our international society becomes more complex by the day.

This time, we decided to go big and travel around the world, because we can. Our careers dovetailed at the right moment, so we were both able to “retire” before considering our next move. This is not within reach for many, but it is for more than you might think. Once we had committed to the idea of world-wide travel, we saved money relentlessly for a couple of years, making hard choices about our activities and expenses. With no children in tow and no mortgage to tie us down, we enjoyed considerable freedom of movement. Yet people with kids and homes manage to undertake this kind of adventure as well. Some never return, taking root along the way, becoming full-fledged expatriates or digital nomads who work while wandering from one remote location to the next. In today’s global economy, anything is possible.

On the other hand, it is not an easy decision to make or a simple process to undergo. We have experienced many sleepless nights, wondering whether we are making the right move and worrying about the future. We had to kiss our family, friends and pets goodbye, not knowing if or when we will return. We packed our belongings into a small storage unit in California, after selling, donating and discarding the rest. This was both a labor-intensive ordeal and a valuable lesson regarding our accumulation of “stuff.” We have only just begun our physical journey, yet we have been learning for months.

Today, we find ourselves in a small hut with a thatched roof in a flowering garden in Moorea, next to Tahiti in French Polynesia. We have a wifi connection, but we use it sparingly. Instead, our days are spent finding and cooking local foods, hiking in tropical forests and reading on the public beach. Next up: New Zealand, Australia, Bali and beyond.

I have been out of work for ten days and I am finally able to let go of my responsibilities and sense of duty. There are many issues we need to address as a global society, which, most likely, will remain unsolved when we return from our travels next spring. We have our work cut out for us, but we also need to take care of ourselves and each other if we want to make a meaningful difference. In the meantime, we look forward to our one-year retirement before returning, rested, recharged and ready for the next chapter of our respective careers. While it once seemed like a far-fetched dream, taking a career break has become a viable option for working professionals who struggle to balance the demands of modern-day life.