Loving it

"Where are you from?" He was movie-star handsome with his black hair, close-cropped beard and dark blue eyes. His kilted outfit was impeccable.

We were from Switzerland, Maine, Connecticut and Copenhagen and we were about to take his guided tour of Stirling castle. He said he liked to know where people are from because he didn't travel. He had everything he wanted "right here."

 His voice was so strong it was like he had a mike--but he didn't. He explained in depth without being boring, an hour-long story hour that left us wishing for more.

When he finished he said, "Thank you for visiting MY castle."

I was taken back a couple of decades to Gstaad, Switzerland when I was wrapped in furry blankets keeping me cozy as a horse-drawn sleigh carried me across the snow. Despite language challenges: the driver spoke with a Swiss German accent. My rusty German was barely related, but even with my bad French accent we communicated.

He talked about his work and joy played through his words as he said, "It is my life." He turned when he said it with a smile that was as warm as the furry blankets.

How wonderful that people can find joy in their work, not necessarily high-paying jobs, but those that make them happy to got to work. They can't chase the expensive car, the McMansion or the next promotion but they have found something far more important.

Happiness.