A conversation with Samuel Garza Bernstein & Ronald Shore
Writer, storyteller & real estate agent
How two people who have spent more than three decades together are creating a different kind of life in Porto—not by leaving their old lives behind, but by deciding what to carry forward, what to change, and what might finally be okay to let go.
“You don’t move to a new country and become a new person. You’re still the same person.”
Watch the Conversation
About this conversation
Samuel Garza Bernstein and Ronald Shore weren’t trying to escape their lives.
They had been together for 32 years. They had a home they loved, careers they had built over decades, friendships, art, possessions and a life together in Los Angeles.
But they were ready for something different.
They call it their “third act.”
For Ron, that meant reconsidering his relationship with work. After nearly 40 years in Los Angeles, the pace and pressure of real estate had taken a toll. He didn’t want to stop working. He wanted work to occupy a different place in his life.
For Sam, a writer whose work became increasingly location-independent during COVID, the move offered something else.
Not less work, as it turns out.
Since moving to Portugal, Sam has written three books, ten episodes of a television show, rewritten a film script and worked on a theater piece. He laughs at the idea that life in Portugal has somehow cured his work-life balance.
But something has changed.
In Los Angeles, Sam says he was constantly measuring himself against other people. Was he doing enough? Was he far enough along? Was he enough?
In Porto, that comparison has begun to loosen its grip.
And that has created room for something Sam finds considerably more difficult than work: rest.
Their story complicates the familiar idea of moving abroad to “reinvent yourself.”
Sam and Ron brought a shipping container filled with the things they had accumulated over a lifetime together—including, apparently, enough dishes to serve 175 people. They recreated the kind of home they had always loved. They continued working. They found communities that reflected parts of themselves that already existed.
They didn’t arrive intending to become different people.
Instead, Portugal seems to be giving each of them the space to examine which parts of their lives still fit—and which ones they might want to experience differently.
For Ron, that has meant slowing down.
For Sam, it has meant learning that slowing down doesn’t have to mean becoming less.
And for both of them, it has meant discovering that a new chapter doesn’t necessarily require leaving the previous ones behind.
In this conversation we explore
Why Sam and Ron decided, after 32 years together, that it was time for a “third act”
How COVID made it possible for Sam to imagine his work outside Los Angeles
Why Ron wanted a different relationship with work, stress and time
Their decision to bring their possessions—and their sense of home—with them
The difference between reinventing yourself and becoming more fully yourself
How Ron is learning not to be in such a hurry
Why Sam’s career has actually accelerated since moving to Portugal
The role comparison played in Sam’s sense of accomplishment and self-worth
Learning how to rest without feeling diminished by it
How an unsuccessful meetup in Lisbon helped lead them toward Porto
Building community through shared identities, interests and participation
What they appreciate—and still find frustrating—about Portugal’s slower rhythm
Why moving abroad can be both a thoughtful decision and a leap into the unknown
Memorable moments
“We both felt like we wanted a third act, you know, a different experience, a different adventure.”
“We weren’t running away from our lives there.”
“I’m just not in such a hurry here.”
“Things are going to take a little longer here, and that’s okay.”
“I’m not enough. I’m not enough. I’m not enough. And I’m not doing that to myself here.”
“I need to learn how to rest without my mind turning against me.”
“I’m becoming a truer version of myself.”
“It’s not magic. Moving here doesn’t suddenly make everything different.”
“What the hell? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Well, it’s not prison. If we don’t like it, we can move somewhere else.”
Reflection
Early in our conversation, Sam says something that could almost serve as a warning to anyone imagining a new life somewhere else:
“You don’t move to a new country and become a new person.”
There is something wonderfully unromantic about that idea.
Crossing an ocean doesn’t erase the person you were before you boarded the plane.
You bring your habits.
Your ambitions.
Your insecurities.
Your relationship with work.
Your ideas about what makes you successful or worthy.
And, if you’re Sam and Ron, apparently a very large number of dishes.
They didn’t come to Portugal looking for a blank slate.
In fact, they did almost the opposite.
They brought the art and objects they had collected over 32 years together. They created the kind of home they had always enjoyed. They continued their careers. They sought out communities built around interests and identities that were already important to them.
What changed was not necessarily who they were.
It was the environment in which they got to be those people.
For Ron, that environment has made it easier to question a way of working that had come to feel unsustainable.
He can take fewer clients. Study Portuguese. Go for a walk. Have lunch. Do nothing for a while.
He is discovering what happens when everything doesn’t have to be a pressure cooker.
Sam’s experience is almost the inverse.
He hasn’t slowed down much at all.
What has begun to change is the voice accompanying all that activity.
In Los Angeles, achievement existed alongside a constant comparison with other people. No matter what Sam accomplished, there was always someone doing more—and an internal voice ready to translate that comparison into something much more personal:
I’m not enough.
Portugal hasn’t taken away Sam’s ambition.
It may be helping him separate ambition from worth.
And that distinction has begun to make room for rest—not simply the absence of work, but the ability to stop working without his mind using the silence against him.
That may be one of the more interesting things about Sam and Ron’s third act.
They are not becoming the same people in the same way.
Ron is learning that he can do less.
Sam is learning that doing less doesn’t make him less.
And they are figuring those things out within a life they have spent more than three decades building together.
Portugal isn’t magic, as Sam is quick to point out. They still get impatient. Businesses close for lunch. Things take longer than they would like. They haven’t suddenly acquired a completely different way of moving through the world.
But perhaps a change of place doesn’t need to change everything to change something important.
Sometimes designing what comes next is not about asking:
Who could I become if I started over?
It might be about asking:
What do I want to carry forward? What am I ready to experience differently? And what might become possible if I give myself permission to find out?
A question to consider
If you didn’t need to become someone new, what would you want to experience differently in the life you already have?
