Tag: Bosnia

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.