good life

Somewhere out there, a lizard’s living its best life while a guy I know is still waiting for Friday.

Do squirrels ever get bored collecting acorns?

Does a lizard zone out while waiting for a bug to fly into striking range?

Every day, without fail, the squirrel shows up under my oak tree, and the lizard sprints by like he’s on a mission from nature. No complaints, no sighs, no dragging their tails or twitching their ears in protest. Just another day in the wild—and they seem totally cool with it.

Meanwhile, I know a guy who’s been at the same job for twenty years.

He hates it.

He’s smart—has a master’s degree—but you’d think his foot’s super-glued to the floor. His only motivation? Retire and finally live the good life.

But here’s the thing:

The squirrels and the lizards? They’re already living it. They show up. They do their thing. They seem satisfied.

(I admit, I haven’t seen official research on squirrel or lizard happiness, but I trust their vibe.)

So it got me wondering—what if the “good life” isn’t something you earn after decades of dragging yourself through days you dislike?

What if it’s available right now, in the rhythm of small joys and simple routines?

Today, I’m taking notes from the squirrel.

And the lizard.

They’re not waiting to retire to enjoy their lives—

Why should we?