Following his bliss

Met a very cool young man at a Thanksgiving gathering in Vermont. He was sitting across from me at a long, family-style table taking in all the conversation around him but not contributing much himself. He had thick, dark hair, a square chin and a handsome face and I tried to engage him with a standard question about what he did for a living. He gave a little half-sigh and said he had been an engineer for years, had been employed by the state of Vermont for most of that time, and had worked mandatory long hours and made a ton of money. Then he had worked as an engineer for a green environmental outfit, again working long hours, before he decided to chuck it all. Now he was doing what he loved -- potting -- and he showed me a picture on his iPhone of a table full of voluptuous bowls, vases, urns and other creations, most done in the soft blues and greens he favored. He had also bought a parcel of land, he said, and his dream was to move out of the rented house he was living in, build up a farm on that property and do his potting there. He certainly wasn't making the money he used to, he said, but he was a happy man. I would guess he wasn't yet 30. I love meeting someone who is not only young, but wise.