“The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”

— Henry Miller

This month, I found myself embarking on a cross-country road trip as I accompanied my oldest son, Greg, and his dog, Bodie, on their journey home to Philadelphia after a six-year chapter of living in Los Angeles. It was the pleasure of my life to travel nearly 3000 miles in his new Subaru, immersed in a masterclass in what Henry Miller called divine awareness. The life lessons were experienced in the car, and sandwiched by two unexpected trips to the emergency room. The contrast was illuminating: eight days of meandering highways, discovering off the beaten path cafes and dog parks, and sharing hours of uninterrupted conversation, followed by the jarring reality of hospital waiting rooms and the sobering reminder of life’s fragility. Both experiences, in their own way, became invitations to practice what positive psychology researchers call “savoring”, the deliberate attention to positive experiences that amplifies their impact on our well-being and sense of meaning.

“The best way to take care of the future is to take care of the present moment.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

What I’m Experiencing: The Geography of Connection

Over eight days, without the distractions of daily routines, the three of us fell into rhythms I hadn’t experienced in years: long stretches of comfortable silence punctuated by spontaneous conversations, shared discoveries of landscapes we had not seen before, sharing playlists and favorite podcasts, and the simple pleasure of choosing our next stop based on curiosity rather than efficiency.

Our route took us from Vegas to Salt Lake City, with unplanned stops at the Run Amok Dog Park in Park City and The Creamery in Beaver, Utah; then continued East. We walked across the bridge in Laramie, Wyoming, enjoyed lunch at Turtle Rock Cafe and let Bodie explore Optimistic Dog Park. We continued to Boulder where we lingered an extra day to savor the magnificence of the mountains. From there we traveled through North Platte, Nebraska, where The Espresso Shop became a fan favorite, then a jaunt in Thornbury Dog Park in Iowa City, on to Chicago where we each spent time with dear friends, then Pittsburgh, and finally home sweet home.

What I’m Learning: The Deliberate Art of Savoring

During my Certificate in Applied Positive Psychology (CAPP) program, I encountered research that focused on “savoring” as part of living a fully engaged life. Pioneered by positive psychology researchers Fred Bryant and Joseph Veroff in their book Savoring, savoring is our capacity to attend to, appreciate, and enhance the positive experiences in your life. Their research reveals something profound about human happiness. Positive events alone are not enough to bring about happiness. People need to be able to attend to and appreciate the positive feelings that emerge from positive events. Savoring operates across three dimensions of time: anticipating future positive experiences, being fully present to current ones, and reminiscing about past joys. What makes savoring so powerful? Research shows it increases positivity, shifts our focus to what my CAPP literature referred to as “beautiful, auspicious, delicious, and life-enhancing”, increases gratitude, and counters what psychologists call the hedonic treadmill, our tendency to quickly return to baseline happiness levels despite positive events.

The road trip became an unexpected masterclass in all dimensions of savoring. Each morning, we’d savor the anticipation of discovery, wondering what our first coffee shop would be like, what conversations would unfold during the day’s drive. In the present moments, we practiced what researchers call luxuriating, allowing ourselves to fully experience the simple pleasures of a comfortable car, the delights of a new city, the satisfaction of finding the perfect dog park. We found ourselves marveling at Boulder’s mountain magnificence, and thankful for the gift of unhurried time together. Even Bodie seemed to understand the research on physical expression by showing his pure joy at each new dog park, tail wagging and body wiggling.

Even in the stark fluorescent reality of the ER, first in Philadelphia before our journey began, then again in Chicago near its end, I found myself practicing a different kind of presence. Not trying to rush through the discomfort, but allowing myself to fully experience the relief when tests came back clear, the gratitude for competent medical care, clearance to take the long anticipated road trip, and in Chicago, the profound comfort of my dear friend Julie’s steady presence. These moments taught me that presence itself can transform even anxiety into an invitation to notice what we might otherwise take for granted. What struck me most was how this intentional savoring didn’t just make positive experiences more pleasurable. It fundamentally changed my relationship to time itself. When you’re truly present to what’s happening now, whether it’s watching Bodie’s pure joy at discovering a new dog park or holding space for uncertainty in a hospital room, minutes expand into something deeper than duration. They become invitations to experience simply being alive.

What I’m Reading and Watching: Stories of Connection and Renewal

I’ve been drawn to narratives that explore how proximity to life’s fragility can paradoxically enhance our capacity for connection and joy. Ocean Vuong’s Emperor of Gladness and Alison Espach’s The Wedding People both center on strangers who meet at moments of profound vulnerability when one is contemplating ending their life, and ultimately discover unexpected meaning through human connection. Surprisingly, Billy Joel’s recent documentary And So It Goes also reveals his own brush with suicidal thoughts and how music and relationships became lifelines back to purpose.

These stories resonate with something I experienced this summer: how my own mild health scares, bookending what was meant to be a joyful homecoming journey, actually heightened my appreciation for every ordinary moment. When you’ve sat in an ER knowing that you will be okay but imagining the worst, the simple pleasure of watching your son introduce his dog to the family pack, or sharing coffee or a long walk with a friend, becomes luminous with meaning.

“You don’t experience life by drinking coffee fast. You experience life by savoring every last drop.”

– Anthony T. Hincks

What I’m Reflecting On: The Practice of Presence

As I reflect on the summer so far, I find myself carrying these insights forward. The research suggests taking what Bryant and Veroff call a “weekly vacation”— 20 minutes once a week to let time pass more slowly, to notice each pleasurable stimulus and build active memories. Creating space for unscripted discovery becomes not just a vacation luxury, but a practice essential to sustainable engagement in all meaningful work. When individuals and families cultivate the capacity to savor, to intentionally anticipate positive changes, stay present to moments of impact, and take time to reminisce about transformations they’ve witnessed, they develop what I have come to think of as resilience through appreciation.

This summer taught me that taking time to connect and recharge isn’t a luxury or a distraction from meaningful work. It’s the foundation that makes sustained impact possible. When we cultivate our capacity for wonder, presence, and joy, we become more fully alive to the gift of being here, now, with the resources and relationships that make savoring and transformation possible.