Perpetual Break

“La Dolce Vita,” “Savoir-Vivre,” “Saber vivir”—all three expressions are about knowing how to live. They conjure a vision of wasting away in Margaritaville. Margaritaville is probably not a great example. There are people all over the world who have taken the concept of living well to heart and practice it daily. Somewhere, I missed that class. Now that I am older, I have the motivation to learn what I should have when I was much younger.

It wasn’t until my mid-thirties that I made my first trip to Europe, specifically the U.K. My perception of England was that it was almost like a third-world country: poverty, high unemployment, weak economy. My travel partner and I were sitting at a bar close to the famous department store Harrods when the Concorde flew over, and more mega-expensive cars drove by than I had ever seen. Obviously, my worldview got a massive upgrade. It wasn’t long after that my wife and I visited Paris for her fortieth birthday; this was her first trip to Europe as well. We spent a week doing what tourists do, and the impression that trip made has never left me. London doesn’t necessarily embody “La Dolce Vita,” but what I witnessed—even Londoners had a better grasp on living well than I did. People in Europe know how to live.

When I think of living well, it has been hard to separate the idea that I need a lot of money—even though that would be nice. I am not wealthy and won’t be unless I win the lottery. Living well can mean many, many different things; there isn’t one definition. I believe there is a way to have each day carry a little vacation attitude in it. Now that I am older, it has become even more important to me.

So tonight, when I get home, I will have a Negroni and toast all the men who, like me, feel like they need to slow down and smell the roses.

Cheers