Street Rats + Life Satisfaction + Sam's Birthday

Yesterday afternoon, a friendly-enough-looking shopkeeper chased my friend Sneh and me out of his store WITH A BROOM.

Can you even imagine?

We walked into a shop wanting to browse some art, both more than happy to make a purchase if something caught our fancy. But, instead, we were chased out.

Chased! With a broom! While the shop owner shouted, “Street rats aren’t welcome here! Get out! OUT! Out you filthy vermin!”

Now, obviously, this didn’t happen.

The less “ugh, these Carneys with their exaggeration” version is that Sneh and I were strolling through town, stopped in an art shop and then were greeted with less-than-welcoming vibes. The shop owner could simply be a curmudgeon. Or he could have just had an unpleasant encounter. Or he could have recently lost a loved one and lacks the necessary enthusiasm to effusively welcome every single passerby with the verbal equivalent of a hug.

But the story that we chose to laugh about for twenty minutes was that he thought we looked like street rats and he doesn’t allow rodents in his store.

I am, if you can’t tell, having the most delightful experience staying with my friends Sneh and Gyula in Sweden. Being around them satisfies a longing that goes unaddressed in my day-to-day life, which is to be surrounded by people who live like I do.

Other “working but not traditionally employed” folks who, like me, require hours per day of uninterrupted, deep focus, able-to-access-flow creating time in order to feel fully alive.

People who, when that deeply nourishing solo time is complete, can then gather in the equally nourishing folds of community. To break bread. To share what we’re working on. To connect over what’s inspiring us. To laugh and be absurd and make up stories about being kicked out of shops because street rats aren’t welcome.

Sneh, Gyula, and I - we have that. We have the space for solitude that our particular type of human needs in order to thrive. Then we have the deep community that all humans need to thrive.

And now Sam’s here too, so it just got doubly as good. He finished his first week of European business meetings, and now he’s here with us in Sneh and Gyula’s cozy abode for the weekend. On his birthday, no less.

So life’s feeling pretty darn good right now. Magical. Enchanting. Oh-so fulfilling.

And I want to make this point: there were years when I didn’t know what I wanted or needed to feel deeply fulfilled as a human being.

Then there were years when I knew what I wanted and needed, but didn’t know how to communicate that effectively.

Then there were years when I knew how to communicate it, but not how to actually live by what I communicated (overuse has made me hate the word “boundaries,” but this chapter was about boundary stuff).

And now there’s now. When all the puzzle pieces have come together. When there’s the knowing + the effective communication + being surrounded by people who either want similar things (like Sneh and Gyula) or by people (like Sam) who show love through the platinum rule (treating others as they want to be treated – much better than the golden rule which is about treating others how you want to be treated).

I once heard a happiness expert (Shawn Achor) say, “Some people are born where happiness is an easier choice than it is for others. That’s where most people stop…but it’s really just the starting point,” and I think that’s true for so many things. Maybe you’ve felt fulfilled every single day of your adult life. Maybe you’re in your fifties and you haven’t yet experienced fulfillment. Maybe it comes and goes for you.

Shifting into greater delight in the human experience – it’s possible. If you’re not satisfied with your fulfillment levels or your life satisfaction or your communication skills – maybe where you’re at today is just your starting point.

Wishing us all deeply nourishing lives and my hubbalicious the best birthday ever (I know I’m a scoundrel for not musing about him on his birthday, but this writing style only works when I surrender to whatever idea wants to play that morning. Sorry hubby. Half the credit for my shift from “human-ing suckkkkks” to “could I possibly love being a human on Earth any more?!?!?!” belongs to you and I am grateful for you on a daily basis. Our marriage is the best part of my life 🥰…and yes, that is my mom you hear retching),

Keely