My Idea of a Good Life Has Changed

Last Saturday, I started the morning with a Pilates class before wandering through The Tattered Cover, one of my favorite places in Denver. Bookstores have always felt like sanctuaries to me, and I spent nearly an hour browsing shelves with no particular book in mind. Afterward, I stopped at Trader Joe’s because, in my opinion, they have the best flowers in the city. I picked up fresh eucalyptus to hang in my shower and a bouquet of peonies for the kitchen table. Then I came home, baked blueberry muffins for Sunday morning, and finished Go Gentle by Maria Semple.

Ten years ago, I would have considered that an uneventful, even boring, Saturday.

Now it feels like a perfect one. Somewhere between Pilates and blueberry muffins, I realized just how much my idea of a good life has changed.

Blueberry Muffins, anyone?

In my twenties and thirties, I measured my life by momentum. There was always somewhere to be, an event to attend, a dinner reservation to make, an opportunity I didn’t want to miss. I was the personification of FOMO, and living in New York only amplified that feeling. The city has an energy that convinces you if you slow down, you’ll miss something important.

I loved that chapter of my life, and I’m grateful I said yes to as much as I did. Many of those dinners and events led to friendships, introductions, and eventually jobs. New York taught me ambition. It gave me lifelong friends, an incredible career, and experiences I’ll always be grateful for.

Snapshot from my NYC desk. (A bit cluttered and chaotic and beverage heavy?!)

But somewhere along the way, I started confusing movement with meaning. I assumed a full calendar meant a full life.

Over the past few years, I’ve realized they’re not the same thing. Not even close.

Ironically, my life isn’t any less busy today. My business continues to grow, I’m writing more than ever, and my weeks are full. But the pace of my life is completely different.

My mornings begin with coffee and Pilates before I settle into work. During the day, I take breaks to listen to podcasts that make me a better businesswoman, writer, friend, and citizen. My evenings are often spent writing, and instead of feeling guilty that I’m missing out, I feel grateful that I’ve found something I love doing. I make time for friends, clients, lunches, dinners, and dating, but none of it feels frantic anymore. I enjoy my day-to-day life. I enjoy the rhythm of work, writing, and time that’s mine. I don’t feel the pressure I once did to fill every second with something to do.

My WFH situation today. Quiet. Calm. Organized and peaceful!

Life is slower.

It’s also more intentional.

I think part of getting older is realizing that happiness doesn’t always arrive with fireworks. More often, it lives in the ordinary rhythm of a Tuesday or Saturday afternoon. 

It’s fresh flowers on the kitchen table. The smell of eucalyptus every time you step into the shower. A batch of blueberry muffins waiting for Sunday morning. The excitement of finishing an essay you’ve poured yourself into while everyone else is out at happy hour. Completing a novel before bed. Walking into a clean apartment. Sliding into freshly laundered sheets in a home that feels like an extension of who you are.

For years, I thought happiness should feel exciting.

Now, I think it feels peaceful.

I’ve also stopped worrying so much about whether my life looks interesting from the outside. I no longer feel the need to fill empty space on my calendar. I’ve discovered there’s something incredibly satisfying about building a life you don’t constantly feel the need to escape.

Reading in Colorado

When I moved to Colorado six years ago, I thought I was changing where I lived. Now I realize I was changing how I wanted to live.

I still love adventure. I still love traveling. I still have big dreams and goals that motivate me. But the life I’ve always wanted isn’t waiting somewhere in the future, after the next accomplishment or milestone. It’s here now. I’m living it every day.

For years, I thought the best moments of my life were still ahead of me.

Maybe some of them are.

But these days, I’m paying a lot more attention to the ones unfolding right in front of me.