It’s ironic… the people you spend time with who make time go by the fastest… are the ones you should continue to invest in.
Not because you want your days, weeks, months, years, life to fly by… but, because “flying by” is one of the surest signs we have of time well spent.
People will occasionally ask me if I have kids.
“…I have 300” I’ll sometimes jokingly say—referring to my 300ish martial arts students.
But, the more time I spend around parents—and get an *actual* look at parenting life—the more I realize how much of a joke it is to say that.
Parenting life is no joke. And I know all of the parents out there know it. But, to those who think they know it, but aren’t, let me just tell you—you don’t. There are as many different ways of parenting as there are parents.
And the thing that blows me away more than anything else is seeing parents devote everything they have (and more) to figuring out how to best educate/mold/raise their child to become a great person and community member. From the second they wake up (or maybe more properly put—get woken up) to the second they go to bed (if that ever even happens)—it’s all about that child or the children.
And what an incredible devotion it is, indeed.
This is all to say: shout out to the parents out there doing it. Devoting everything they have to the next generation even if it’s at the expense of themselves. Not all parents make the decision to parent—but if you did… and you are… thank you.
…It’s something I feel you might not hear often enough.
Safa is 84 years old. He’s a born and raised Bosnian. He worked as a copper artist—hammering and contorting the metal from his own store in Mostar—for 30+ years. He’s incredibly light on his feet—jumping up from seated positions, skipping while walking, and spontaneously dancing when his spirit calls for him to. And is the living embodiment of ćejf.
I got to spend an entire day with him, sipping coffee and 0% beer for hours at a time, touring through some of his favorite local restaurants and artisan shops, and hearing stories from his life.
Of everything we discussed, here are three highlights I thought were worth sharing:
1. I asked: Do you exercise? He said (and I’m paraphrasing here): Never (formally) a day in his life. He always just worked hard—hammering away in his copper shop. And he was always trying new things physically—like “L-Sits,” “Planche Holds,” one arm pull-ups, hanging from a bridge with one hand, or even high jumping from bridges into the water below. He said the more he successfully did things physically, the more confident he became with himself and the more he continued to try. One of his favorite things to do was “bust jacked people’s egos” by one-upping them. And he said the other aspect that really helped with his physicality was that he always spent a lot of time with women (lol).
2. I asked: What are some of your favorite memories? He said the time he spent with his wife.
3. I asked: What are some of his regrets? He said not being able to build the family he wanted and help raise his son.
Pronounced /chey-if/: not just a Bosnian word but a way of life. It’s a slow and silent enjoyment of something or someone; it’s a deep satisfaction or contentment; it’s what I wrote yesterday about coffee culture.
And it’s not just coffee that we might be doing wrong… maybe it’s food too? I did not see a single drive thru restaurant my entire time here in Bosnia. Not one. Because here, drinking coffee and/or eating “to-go” is almost blasphemous.
Coffee/food is something meant to be consumed slowly… something to be shared generously… something that’s supposed to elicit a deep contentment in-and-of the act itself.
The idea with ćejf is the same idea that many of us daydream about as we kill ourselves working 9-5 jobs. We imagine ourselves sitting on a beach, by the turquoise water, sipping on a margarita—experiencing ćejf.
Or even more simply, getting home after a long day, kicking off our shoes, loosening up our tight clothes, and finally sitting in our most comfortable chairs next to loved ones—to experience ćejf.
The problem is that too many of us are far too busy to experience ćejf.
…We wake up and we’re already late for work. We rush to work, but only want to be back home. Exhausted, we pick escapes and quick dopamine hits via screens and ignore everything and everyone around us in reality throughout.
Ćejf is not something that can be rushed.
…Just like anything of quality can’t be rushed.
And if you’re the type who is always rushing… it might be worth thinking about whether there’s enough space and time in your day/life for ćejf to slowly… silently… gracefully… seep its way in.
I’m in Bosnia on vacation.
It’s a beautiful country with gorgeous scenery, friendly people, and a culturally relaxed vibe—especially in comparison to my New York, USA, hometown.
In fact, one of the first distinct differences I noticed was how easy it was to just sit down and not do anything… for hours.
It has happened several times already (and it has only been two days) where I’ve just sat on a porch, sat at a café, sat by the water… and did nothing for hours on end.
When you can find little pockets of complete presence and contentment like that, it can feel like pockets of heaven.
But one of the reasons I think I’ve been able to appreciate it as much as I have is because of the full time commitment I’ve devoted to my work.
I’m sure it’s possible to have a lifestyle complete with presence and contentment, maybe that’s even what enlightenment is… but I don’t think it’s plausible to expect to have pockets of one without the other and pockets of the other without the one.
In other words: wherever you are, be there.
Don’t wish for a work-free life, but don’t live a work-only life either. Appreciate work in full and appreciate (and work hard to create) heaven-like moments in full.
Pockets of work are what make pockets of heaven—heavenly.
…Without it, they just become an expected norm.
Nothing will give life “problems” perspective like hearing a good friend with Stage 4 cancer—eyes swollen with tears—say, “I am just so thankful for each day…”
I hope this is never something you have to hear.
But, if you imagine you did, like I did, you might leave this short reading with a life perspective that’s costing somebody else the threat of their life to gain.
…And all you need to do is shut up the noise… and really hear.
People will pay thousands and thousands of dollars for a comfortable seat in an airplane. And, generally speaking, will cherish every moment of it when they think about what they might’ve had to sit in in comparison.
What if you could channel that same appreciation when you sit in a comfortable seat in your house or at work? Generally speaking, the seats you sit in daily are probably more comfortable than even the nicest ones on some airlines…
Appreciation is an attitude. It’s a mindset. It’s a perspective. And you don’t have to pay thousands and thousands of dollars to obtain it. Generally speaking, all you need to do is… change your mind.