A good life isn’t necessarily about having more experiences. It’s about getting more joy from the experiences you’re already having.
Yesterday, I decided to skip the gym and take my two dogs, Rumi and Derby, out to Red Rock Canyon here in Las Vegas for an afternoon of hiking and exploring. We ended up at Calico Basin, surrounded by magnificent red sandstone formations, spectacular desert scenery, and countless trails to explore. My original plan was to spend around two hours hiking, but we were having such a wonderful time that we ended up staying for over three hours. We could have stayed even longer, but I wanted to make sure we got back to my Hummer well before dark.
What made the afternoon particularly enjoyable was watching how much Rumi and Derby loved every minute of the experience. Rumi, my gentle giant, stayed close to my side throughout much of the hike, while Derby, my enthusiastic little adventurer, wandered just ahead, frequently turning around to make sure I was still there. We encountered very few people, and it felt like we had much of that magnificent landscape to ourselves.
Afterward, we headed to Lazy Dog Restaurant in Summerlin for a well-earned meal. The boys enjoyed grilled salmon and green beans, while I had a veggie burger, fries, and an ale. I rarely drink alcohol, but after a wonderful afternoon outdoors, I was in the mood for a beer, so why not? Life is meant to be enjoyed!
As I reflected on the afternoon, I found myself thinking about something that has become increasingly important to me over the years: the ability to appreciate the life you’re living instead of constantly looking toward the next experience, accomplishment, or destination.
So much of human life revolves around anticipation, achievement, and constantly seeking something new. We convince ourselves that happiness is waiting for us somewhere down the road. Perhaps after we make more money, achieve a certain level of fitness, purchase something we’ve been wanting, or reach another milestone. Yet how often do we accomplish what we set out to do, enjoy a brief moment of satisfaction, and immediately start thinking about what’s next?
There’s nothing inherently wrong with ambition. I’ve spent much of my adult life pursuing meaningful goals in business, strength training, and personal development. I enjoy challenging myself and have no intention of becoming complacent. However, I’ve also come to appreciate that there’s an enormous difference between working toward a better future and believing that happiness is something we have to postpone until we get there.
The problem begins when the pursuit of what’s next interferes with our appreciation of what’s now.
This is something my dogs remind me of constantly.
Rumi and Derby go to the same park for walks most evenings, often following virtually the same route. Yet their enthusiasm never diminishes. The moment they realize we’re heading out, they’re excited and ready for another adventure. They don’t seem to care that we walked the same path yesterday or that we’ll probably walk it again tomorrow. They’re simply happy to be outside, exploring their surroundings, enjoying the different smells, and spending time together.
They’re never bored with an experience simply because it’s familiar.
Derby is especially fascinating to watch. He has an extraordinary exuberance for life, combined with a very gentle and affectionate personality. Even something as simple as riding in the car brings him tremendous joy. On our way to Red Rock, he rested his face against the window and gazed out at the mountains and desert scenery with what seemed like complete amazement. Watching him, you would think he was witnessing one of the greatest spectacles imaginable.
And perhaps, from his perspective, he was.
That simple moment reminded me how easily we overlook the beauty and enjoyment available in ordinary experiences. We become so accustomed to our surroundings that we stop paying attention. We look for increasingly exciting activities, more stimulating entertainment, and bigger accomplishments, while overlooking the countless little things that can make an ordinary day wonderful.
Dogs approach life differently. There are always new smells to investigate, interesting sights to observe, and opportunities to enjoy themselves. They don’t need every experience to surpass the previous one.
A good life isn’t necessarily about having more experiences. It’s about getting more joy from the experiences you’re already having.
There is another reason Derby’s enthusiasm for life means so much to me.
Last year, only a few months after losing my beloved dog Reyna, I agreed to foster Derby, a rescue from Korea brought to Vegas by my friends at Retriever Rescue Las Vegas. Reyna had been my constant companion for nine wonderful years, and losing her was devastating. She was an exceptionally beautiful, affectionate, playful dog who loved being by my side. Whether we were hiking, going for walks, spending time at the beach, or simply relaxing on the couch, she always seemed happiest when we were together.
I still think about her every day, and I always will.
When Derby arrived, I wasn’t planning on adopting another dog so soon. In fact, the idea felt a little strange because I was still grieving Reyna. However, it didn’t take long to realize that Derby was a remarkable dog.
I’ll never forget his first night at my house. Think about what he had experienced in a single day. That morning, he woke up in Korea. Then he endured a long plane ride, arrived in Las Vegas, was picked up by a complete stranger, and brought into an unfamiliar house with another large dog.
When I reached down to pet him in the kitchen, he flinched as though he was afraid I might hit him. That absolutely broke my heart. I gently touched him and reassured him that he was safe and that I would never hurt him.
I didn’t force affection or interactions. I gave him the space he needed to decompress and become comfortable with his new surroundings. That first night, he slept downstairs by himself and spent much of his time alone in the living room while Rumi and I watched television in the den.
By the next day, he was already becoming more comfortable and wanted to be closer to me. During our walks, he stayed nearby and seemed increasingly relaxed. Two days after his arrival, I took him and Rumi to Lake Mead to meet our friend Julia and her fun loving rascal dog Bernie. Derby had a wonderful time playing with Bernie and Rumi and exploring the beautiful surroundings.
By the end of his first week, he was running around the park with Rumi, playing enthusiastically and showing the exuberant personality I’ve come to love so much.
Rumi played an instrumental role in helping Derby adjust. Rumi is also a rescue from Korea, and despite his imposing size, he has an incredibly gentle, loving personality. He’s the consummate big brother. He welcomed Derby, helped him understand the routines of our household, and made the transition to his new life much easier.
What makes that especially meaningful is that Reyna played a similar role when Rumi first joined our family. She helped him adjust to his new surroundings, just as Rumi would eventually help Derby.
There’s something beautiful about that continuity. The love and security Reyna helped establish in our family didn’t end when she passed away. Rumi carried some of that forward and shared it with Derby.
One of the main reasons I ultimately decided to adopt Derby was how much he reminded me of Reyna. They share a similar exuberance for life, playful enthusiasm, affectionate nature, and desire to be close to me. Both love to explore and play, but they’re equally happy relaxing afterward. I often refer to Derby as Reyna’s brother because I know they would have adored each other and had so much fun together.
Of course, Derby could never replace Reyna, nor would I want him to. Every dog is an individual, and the relationship we develop with each one is unique. But Derby has helped me heal from losing Reyna, and he continues to do so.
I’ve always believed that one of the best ways to heal from losing a dog is to help another.
Helping another animal doesn’t erase the grief or diminish the relationship you had with the one you lost. Rather, it gives you an opportunity to direct that love and compassion toward another animal who deserves a wonderful life.
Watching Derby enjoy Red Rock reminded me so much of Reyna. She absolutely loved that area, and I thought about her frequently throughout our hike. There were moments when I wished she could have been there with us, running around and exploring alongside her brothers. But I was also grateful to be sharing such a beautiful afternoon with Rumi and Derby, creating new memories while cherishing the old ones.
I think that’s an important part of learning to appreciate life. Gratitude doesn’t require pretending that everything is perfect or that we haven’t experienced painful losses. We can deeply miss someone while still finding tremendous happiness in the life we have today.
And we don’t have to stop loving what we’ve lost in order to appreciate what we’ve gained.
This perspective also carries over into how I approach strength training and fitness, especially now that I’m in my 50s.
I’ve been training consistently since I was 18, and there was a time when much of my enthusiasm revolved around lifting heavier weights, pushing my limits, and achieving new personal records. Those accomplishments were rewarding, and I’m grateful for what I achieved. However, my priorities have evolved.
These days, I’m far more interested in maintaining strength, fitness, and mobility that I can enjoy for decades than constantly proving what I’m capable of in the gym. I don’t need every workout to be more challenging than the last. Sometimes I simply want to train, move well, put in some quality work, and leave feeling better than when I arrived.
I often describe this as making deposits rather than withdrawals with my training. Every session doesn’t have to leave me exhausted to be productive. In fact, approaching training with a greater appreciation for the process has made it more enjoyable and sustainable.
The same principle applies to life outside the gym.
I could have spent yesterday afternoon lifting weights, but I decided that spending time outdoors with Rumi and Derby would be more rewarding. We still got plenty of exercise, but the real value of the afternoon wasn’t how many miles we walked or how many calories we burned.
It was the experience itself.
It was watching Derby gaze out the window on the drive to Red Rock. It was seeing Rumi happily exploring the trails with his little brother. It was appreciating the remarkable desert landscape, enjoying the fresh air, and spending several hours away from screens and everyday distractions.
And it was sitting down afterward to enjoy a good meal, watching Derby relax peacefully while Rumi, despite three hours of hiking, remained surprisingly energetic because he wanted to socialize with every person and dog on the restaurant patio! He finally settled down once the grilled salmon arrived.
Those are the moments that make life enjoyable.
I also think it’s worth recognizing that being present and appreciating what we have doesn’t mean abandoning our ambitions or losing the desire to experience new things. I’m still excited about future adventures, business projects, training goals, and countless other experiences.
But I don’t want the anticipation of those things to rob me of the enjoyment available right now.
There will always be another goal to pursue, another place to visit, another accomplishment to achieve, or another possession we imagine will improve our lives. If our happiness depends entirely on reaching the next milestone, we’ll spend much of our lives chasing something that continually moves farther away.
The ability to appreciate what you already have may be one of the most underrated ingredients of a happy life.
I think about this often when I watch Rumi and Derby. Neither needs an extraordinary event to have a wonderful day. A familiar walk, a good meal, some playtime, and the opportunity to be close to the people and animals they love are more than enough to make them happy.
Their enthusiasm is infectious, and their appreciation for simple pleasures is a reminder that we don’t have to constantly seek bigger and better experiences to enjoy life.
Sometimes the most meaningful moments are the ones we could easily overlook.
A peaceful evening at home. A familiar walk through the neighborhood. A satisfying workout. A beautiful sunset. A good conversation. Or a dog resting his face against a car window, looking at the world with unmistakable wonder.
I have no doubt that I’ll continue pursuing new goals and seeking out exciting experiences. That’s part of who I am. But I also want to remain conscious of the extraordinary value of the life I’m already fortunate enough to live.
Reyna taught me a great deal about love, loyalty, and companionship. Rumi continues to remind me of the importance of gentleness, patience, and looking after those we care about. And Derby, with his joyful personality and appreciation for seemingly ordinary experiences, reminds me not to take life’s little pleasures for granted.
Yesterday’s adventure at Calico Basin was a wonderful experience, but perhaps the most important lesson from the afternoon was something the boys demonstrate every day.
Don’t become so preoccupied with creating an extraordinary life that you forget to enjoy the ordinary moments that make life extraordinary.
Because a good life isn’t necessarily about having more experiences.
It’s about getting more joy from the experiences you’re already having.
