Rachel Schwartzmann: Welcome to Slow Stories. I’m Rachel Schwartzmann. I'm a writer, consultant, and the creator and host of this podcast. For those of you just tuning in, I interview artists, entrepreneurs, and innovators who share slow stories—and big ideas—about living, working, and creating in our digital age.

This episode begins with a story from Amy Snook, who shares a book that reminded her to slow down and appreciate the simpler things in life. Here’s more from Amy.

Amy Snook: My name is Amy, and I’m the founder and CEO of Parea Books, the first reader-centric publishing company. Something that made me slow down recently was reading the book called Silence in the Age of Noise. It’s written by a Norwegian arctic explorer [Erling Kagge], and it’s all about reducing the noise in our lives and just being really comfortable with silence and appreciating silence. I read it during a time when I was processing a difficult breakup, and it really prompted me to simplify. It prompted me to spend at least an hour every morning walking my dogs in nature. It prompted me to reduce the number of things I have in my life instead of trying to add to them.

I think a lot of us want to add stuff—we want to buy stuff, we want to sign up for things—and I think actually reducing and making life even more simple is really the key to happiness. And it encouraged me to spend an entire day without my phone. And it was one of the most liberating experiences I’ve had because it enabled me to just exist. I just sat on the couch with my thoughts. I sat by the beach with my thoughts, and I didn’t tell anyone any of them. I didn’t reach to see who was trying to contact me. I simply existed in a really beautiful, simple way.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Thanks so much again to Amy for sharing. Again, the book she mentioned is Silence in the Age of Noise, and you can learn more about her company, Parea, at pareabooks.com. Now here’s my conversation with Naj Austin.


Rachel Schwartzmann: Think about the places you frequent most. What’s the experience like? How does it make you feel? How are you connecting? And who are you connecting with? Whether online or offline, Naj Austin has been exploring these questions through her visionary endeavors, which include Ethel’s Club and, most recently, Somewhere Good, an “audio platform for intimate community conversations.”

With its distinct, design-driven app and a growing suite of partnerships and offline offerings, Somewhere Good is poised to become a leader in how we can authentically connect in our complex digital age. For Naj, shifting away from scrolling our feed towards feeding our relationships remains a through-line in her life. And with that comes recalibrating how we pay attention to ourselves and each other, online and off. And in this interview, Naj shared more about her role of slowness and solitude in her work, her relationship with listening, and the importance of community participation. This episode also opens with a story from Amy Snook.

In an age of so much uncertainty, Naj’s steadfast commitment to community-building was a welcome reminder that moving slowly and steadily really does win the race. And once you hear from Naj, you’ll see what I mean, so on that note, here’s my conversation with Naj Austin, Founder of Somewhere Good.


Naj Austin: I am Naj Austin. My pronouns are she/her. I am an at-home chef. I am a reader, specifically of The Atlantic and New York Magazine. And I’m a person who cares deeply about my family and friends.

Rachel Schwartzmann: All amazing things. Where did you grow up?

Naj Austin: I grew up in Summit, New Jersey, a very small town known for our lacrosse and tree-lined streets. [Laughs]

Rachel Schwartzmann: Nice. Did you play?

Naj Austin: I played in sixth grade—and by played, I mean, I had a lacrosse stick. So do with that what you will.

Rachel Schwartzmann: I wish I had athleticism—like natural athleticism—but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards.

Naj Austin: Yeah, I gave up on that a while ago.

Rachel Schwartzmann: But I’m sure that was a nice introduction into community, which is such a core part of your life today.

Naj Austin: Oh, absolutely. I think even my family within it—my mom is a child of nine. I have twenty-five first cousins. I was born into either a sports team and/or a community of people who, I would say, generally, all have this similar goal in life, and [we] leaned on each other when we needed to. It was a really nice way to grow up.

Rachel Schwartzmann: I can imagine. Can you tell me a little bit more about a space that was so important to you in terms of being somewhere good or an environment that conjures that vision for you?

Naj Austin: Absolutely. The first one that comes to mind is definitely my grandmother, Ethel, who I named Ethel’s Club after, and her home was so alive and dynamic. I almost feel like my memories are a little bit romanticized at this point—sort of like a constant swinging door. There were neighbors and my family, and there were toys and music, and there was always food cooking, and someone was dancing, and there were kids doing homework under the table, and it was just so vibrant.

And I’m a middle child of five—I feel like that’s important to say as an introduction to me. But I sort of play the role of peacekeeper in my family. I was always a little bit on the periphery. I’m never in front, never in the back. I’m literally always kind of in the middle. And I think being inside her home, all I did was sort of watch what was going on. I was always in the grown people’s business. I always knew what was going on over there. I was, was sort of making sure the kids were playing and behaving. I was always in the kitchen helping. And I just sort of felt like this...

Rachel Schwartzmann: You’re kind of like the eye of the storm, it sounds like.

Naj Austin: Yeah. A little bit. Just, as you were saying that I was somehow involved in everything, but also kind of involved in nothing. It was just—the very best word I have is—alive. And I think I’ve taken that feeling and wanted it to be felt in everything that I built, from Ethel’s Club to Somewhere Good. In my personal home—this feeling that there’s life there, and you feel it immediately.

Rachel Schwartzmann: What’s a story that Ethel shared with you that has become a through-line in your own life—even outside of your professional endeavors? I’m a big believer in the grandparent-grandchild relationship, so I’m always curious to hear what’s passed through generationally.

Naj Austin: Yeah, I think the biggest one is the importance of keeping your people close —whatever that means to you. Whether it’s a blended family, a chosen family, just sort of making space and time for them in big or small ways. She was a big fan of [asking]: who wants to go on an errand with me? You know, all the grandkids are vying for the position to go to the grocery store. But those are some of my favorite memories—her and me at the grocery store. She was big on gum, and you got half of a piece—it was always half, never the whole piece—in the car. And you got to push the cart, which my mom never let me do for some reason. So I think that was really important to me.

You saw how she looked at food and made choices, and you know, as someone who cooks a lot and considers that a core part of my life now and part of my creative practice, I come back to those memories often. So I think making a point to spend time with your people, making space for them, is definitely something I’ve held onto. I even have time every week that I text everyone back. I’m not so great at it most of the time; I try to have dedicated time because I do think it’s important to check in, connect, support, help, [and] just be an ear in all the ways that are possible in today’s current climate.

Naj Austin: Yeah. I’m a voice note [and] phone call person. I’m a terrible texter, but when I am in texting mode, I am a wild texter. I’ve sent you thirty-seven texts—thirty-seven texts or no texts are kind of the options for me. [Laughs] Or disparate voice notes that are kind of connected but not really. Or a phone call, but only at that exact time. You know, are you free right now in this current moment? Then we can have a three-hour phone call. That’s sort of how I move these days. [Laughs]

Rachel Schwartzmann: Yeah. I’m having more friends send me voice messages, and I kind of liken it to an adult version of walkie-talkie.

Naj Austin: Absolutely.

Rachel Schwartzmann: There’s a playfulness to it and a nice kind of surprise and opportunity to slow down and listen. And I think on the subject of conversation, and again, something that’s been so central to what you’ve built, I’m curious to hear about your relationship with listening. Have you always been a good listener, or what’s something that you’ve had to learn?

Naj Austin: I think this goes back to the middle child situation I referenced earlier. [Laughs] I think middle-born listeners—that’s sort of how you come into the world ... I think that I’ve always been a good listener. I think that I enjoy listening. My favorite thing is to be in a group of people and just be taking in the conversation and stories—and adding in when relevant. But, you know, my calling was never to be at the forefront of what’s happening. I’m very backend. And I think that I have made friends with really good listeners. I’m partnered with a really good listener.

So I think I’ve prioritized people who are good listeners in my life. It allows for deeper conversations when you know that the person is actually taking in what you’re sharing and sort of sitting with it a bit versus sort of the high, fast response we’ve gotten very used to with technology. It’s always there, right? If I want immediate gratification, I know exactly where to go, but if I want this deeper, almost silence— being okay with sharing something and having no one respond outside of “I hear that. I am taking that in”—is something that I’ve learned to treasure more and more.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Yeah, that really resonates. Part of the reason why I started Slow Stories as a podcast is because I had spent so much time sort of operating in the digital space, whether it was posting, writing, texting. And I got to a point where I felt like I was losing my physical voice. When I’m having conversations like this, I still have to fight that reflex almost to fill the space—even if something my guest has said requires a little bit of stillness and silence. So I think it’s something we’ll have to practice all of our lives, just given the state of the world and the expectation to always sort of meet the moment, if that makes sense.

Naj Austin: It absolutely makes sense. And I feel that in this interview as well: not needing to say more than what I’m thinking. This feeling to sort of, like, just keep going because I’ve already started is something I practice specifically with my team in meetings. I now unmute and say, “looks great!” and mute myself. [Laughs] I don’t have to go in further just because, and I think that’s something that I was plagued with for a very long time, and I’ve started to rebuke and reject it. It’s a practice, for sure. But it’s something that I’m proud of—I say what I mean and absolutely nothing else.

Rachel Schwartzmann: That’s great. And I’m glad to hear now you don’t feel the need to perform in a sense. It’s always interesting talking to founders—something that I’ve noticed is just this kind of need to tell a story in a certain way because somebody on the other side is expecting it delivered in a certain way.

Naj Austin: Mm-hmm.

Rachel Schwartzmann: So yeah, it’s just something that’s kind of humming in the back of my mind when I’m starting these conversations. You mentioned your team. I think it’d be a good time to formally introduce your professional path a little bit, so people know [more about] what we’re talking about. [Laughs] I would love to have you just give that background.

Naj Austin: Sure! I am the founder of Somewhere Good. We are a platform for conversations on your phone and IRL. What that means is we have an iOS app in which you engage in thoughtful, communal conversations with people around the world. And then we have physical spaces—currently one—where you can bring those conversations to life.

Rachel Schwartzmann: And what was your path leading up to starting Somewhere Good?

Naj Austin: Chaos. [I was] working at a lot of startups where I talked a lot about nothing and did a lot that didn’t actually [result in] anything. I would spend a lot of time looking to make real estate more, interesting and accessible. I would say those are the two biggest aspects of what I did. Generally, what I noticed was that I was often the only Black queer person in the room, and often the things that I felt were important and vital to the product’s success were not seen as important and vital as the rest of the team. So I just often found myself at odds. And this was back in 2019; I started Ethel’s Club, which was a co-working space for creatives, specifically centering people of color. That was me just looking for community, me looking to pour a lot of what I had been sort of wrestling with and not having the opportunity to build into reality at previous companies into fruition.

We started Ethel’s Club back in 2019, COVID happened, shut down Ethel’s Club, built Somewhere Good off of a lot of the learnings from Ethel’s Club, but also seeing a much larger opportunity and that we’re not as connected as we could be. And powers that be like it that way. We wanted to build an alternative. While we were building the app, we had our website be sort of like a stumble upon, where you could stumble upon different communities that centered things almost outside of the traditional capitalist lens. So even that felt inherently community-driven. You would click “take me somewhere good,” and it would take you to a website that we thought could bring you joy, could make you feel more connected, could make you feel more seen, et cetera.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Yeah. Seeing the build-up to what you’ve created now, I’d love to talk a little bit about the sensory choices and vision. I just noticed that there are so many parallels in how we both kind of portray slowing down and connecting—I mean specifically through worlds and nature. For Slow Stories, I was personally interested in capturing the slow growth and the changes that have been informing our lives both online and off. And I see some of that in what you’re doing, and it’s so beautiful. So I’m curious how you kind of arrived at that decision to use nature and plants in the language and the visual choices around Somewhere Good’s experience.

Naj Austin: Yeah. We spend a lot of time on the visual experience of Somewhere good. I have a very brilliant team. Our creative team is led by Annika Hansteen-Izora, who truly just sees the world in a different way. And so building alongside them has been magical because we sort of have the conversation as a team [around] we need to build a social platform that makes people feel better connected to themselves and to others. And then, what does that actually mean? So we sort of went through a laundry of things that we had either pulled from research or our own personal relationship to current platforms: what we like, what we don’t like, what could be better. And the thing that we kept coming back to was how the platform makes you feel already encourages a type of behavior. And so, for example ... the first thing you see is a video with noise playing, you’re immediately dragged into a noisy landscape that’s potentially erratic. And then the next choice you have is just to another one, which has now put you in this space that is not calming. It doesn’t give you a lot of ownership over what you’re doing while you’re on the platform. And other things like that.

So we kind of had a laundry list of what we don’t like, what doesn’t bring us joy. And from that, we built out what could bring us joy. And so moving towards slower aspects of what that visual journey could look like and what that behavior could trigger. So, for example, the first screen you see on Somewhere Good encourages you to take a deep breath. That’s pointed. You’ve probably come from another platform that has maybe had you holding your breath, and you maybe haven’t even realized ... you can take a beat before diving in, which also kind of allows you to settle before engaging in a conversation, which is how conversations should be engaged. It is not often in, you know, away from [a] keyboard or in real life that you are rushing, rushing, and then engaging in a conversation with a stranger. I don’t think that happens to many people.

One of our big, almost places to work from was mimicking a dinner party, in which case you are welcomed in. You can take a second, take off your coat, find your place, maybe get a drink or a snack; you then are introduced by someone you care about to another person. There are so many steps in a dinner party, and yet you walk away feeling fed both socially, literally, and intellectually. And you sort of can’t wait to come back for more, but it’s not immediate. You can’t just go to another dinner party. A lot of that plays well in terms of how we built Somewhere Good: to be slower, to be rooted in nature [with] videos that have a flower blowing or a leaf blowing to sort of mentally change what we should interact with before engaging with one another, which I think we’ve lost sight of a bit.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Absolutely. I’ve loved getting acquainted with the Learning Garden, which is on Somewhere Good’s website. I Came across a really striking article written by Legacy Russell called “RE/Sync: Networking Slowly in the Fast of Digital.” There is a paragraph that I’d love to share. It’s the last paragraph of the essay [and] Legacy writes:

“I’m curious about making ‘collaboration’ less dreamy and idealistic. I’m curious about repacing our understanding of ‘digital time’ by prompting us to move with slowness through fast material and asking us to sit with information before we contribute to it, pushing the collective group to think about its role in stewarding exchange as a model that cannot be unified but as a model that needs to exist in pieces and move at different rhythms; possibilities of autonomous being that acknowledges authentically that no two individuals are individual in the same way, nor should they have to be.”

It’s such an incisive read; overall, that sort of reimagines when we opt into connecting and really makes a case for the timing needs to be right. I’m wondering how this idea of community building has informed your relationship with pace or vice versa.

Naj Austin: Community building has informed everything that we do and that I do personally. And I think in regards to pace, specifically, communities had existed long before we had Facebook, long before we had the internet, long before we had cities. And I think that the damage that has been done by larger incumbent platforms in terms of how we believe we need to connect has made our understanding of how fast things should move incorrect.

I was talking with a good friend the other day, and she said, “no one needs groceries in five minutes” there isn’t a logical reason why you need it in five minutes. Sure. We can make the case for thirty [minutes], I guess, but generally, you don’t need it in five minutes. So this instant gratification, instant need, we need it tomorrow feeling that we have with platforms like Amazon also live in platforms—the larger incumbent social platforms—that we often use. And when you’re building a community of real live humans and people, it’s complex, it’s nuanced, and it deserves the space and time to breathe and to come together and to fall apart and to come back together and to reassign and redo and cocreate. There are so many things that need to happen, and none of that should be fast. One could argue that by doing it fast, you’re going to get it very, very wrong. I think that has been represented across many, many platforms that tried to urgently bring people together under the guise of community without actually paying a to what community actually feels and looks like for a community that “works.”

I think pacing is important when navigating the internet at large. There’s a lot of information. There is a lot of stuff. I mean, you have an index of the world; you should not be reading through that at the speed of light. It requires time to sit in it, to step away. A lot of things that Legacy mentioned, I think, were important; I mean, they almost had to be, right? You couldn’t read through thirty encyclopedias at the speed of light. You kind of had to sit with it. I think it’s a bit backward now. And so community building is something that I’ve spent a lot of time doing, and I’ve seen how it can go wrong if one does not pace themselves.

So when building Somewhere Good, a lot of the product’s features and/or experience is slow. There are four conversations a day. We don’t need more than that; actually, we maybe don’t need four. The conversations last for a whole day. You don’t have to immediately tap in because it’ll be gone or save it because the algorithm is going to send you down another path, in which case we’ll never find it again. Those four conversations last for twenty-four hours, and then they’re done. And the next day, there are four new conversations, and that will just continue to happen.

You know, at one point, we didn’t have any conversations because we didn’t have the internet, and now there are millions [of conversations] that one could be in. And I don’t think more is always the answer. I think sometimes less and slower is the correct answer. Somewhere Good is trying to figure that out as an alternative to the many, many platforms that exist. Do as many people care about that as we do? I think it is the other thing, right? We’ve all been using these fast-paced platforms for so long. What does it mean to put ourselves on a platform that requires less of us, and because of that, there is less to do and potentially less to engage with, but seeing that as a positive?

Rachel Schwartzmann: I often wonder if the digital age is good for introverts. I know it’s necessary, but you know, is it nourishing? And on that note, what is the role of solitude in the work that you’re doing? Where does that show up? If at all.

Naj Austin: Solitude shows up, I think, in that a lot of the prompts that exist on Somewhere Good, the four conversation starters that we have, often require people to be solitude in their response before responding—if responding at all. We’ve removed the traditional metrics of what engagement looks like. You don’t need to respond, actually. You can answer in your head. You can write about it in your journal. You can bring it up while you’re hanging out with your friends at their house. You can just think about it all day and not actually engage in the app, and that’s also okay.

We’ve had many, many people who we’ve talked to who use Somewhere Good have said it serves various purposes in their lives, whether or not it’s to connect with themselves and/or others. And again, that was a very purposeful choice on our end of you don’t get extra points if you leave a voice note. Unless the point is you want to talk to someone else! But there are no likes; there’s nothing to win. There’s no gamification of it.

And so I think in that space, upon removing the gamification aspects that are represented on many other platforms, you encourage people to take that prompt and take it into solitude and be okay with it in silence versus the need to respond. I must tweet to be part of this conversation to be engaged is not something that we prioritize, which has been interesting. We’ve had a lot of people, again, say they’ve taken it and journaled with it and just kind of needed it to unlock something inside themselves, whether or not it was a question or something that had been on their mind that finally they felt called to respond to. I think [that] has also really interesting to see.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Yeah. That’s interesting. I was going to ask if you ever revisit prompts at a later date.

Naj Austin: We have a few times, but typically under the guise of there’s more added to the conversation. So an example I’ll give you is about two months we asked a question that was centered around what does Black feminism mean to you? And we recently did a partnership organization called Black Women Radicals, which was part of the conversation happening. We asked the same question, but now there’s more sort of nuance and context as to who you’re having the conversation with. [That] is a way that we have played that.

But there are people who asked us to bring back questions. We get that a lot: I want to see where people are at on this... one of the questions that comes a lot when you use the Somewhere Good platform is this question around: How do I build community? And I think it often comes up after something tragic has happened in our larger world, and there’s this sort of desperation: what’s my part to play? And people love to ask it of themselves, of others. We all answer it, and then time goes on, and something tragic happens, and we all ask it. We all answer it, time goes on, and it’s sort of this larger cycle, but that is a common one that has come up a few times. Because unfortunately, there are tragic things that happen too often.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Something that I think about as we kind of move through this really vicious cycle is what it means to be a good participant in a community. I think to your point of that urgency—where people feel like they need to rush to the forefront, lead the charge—it’s often coming from a good place, but something that gets overlooked is it’s enough to just listen and participate and not feel the need to lead in the sense where you’re drowning out voices that have already been established or things that need support. And so, what are some of the ways you’ve learned to participate in a community versus building them?

Naj Austin: I think the biggest I’ve learned is I now ask, where do you need me? Versus Where should I go? I recently joined a community called One Love Community Fridge, which helps bring extra grocery items from restaurants and places to various community fridges across Brooklyn. And it’s very set up in a participatory way. There’s a Google spreadsheet, they have the days that things need to be picked up and dropped off, and you just jot your name down. And it feels so affirming to just be able to kind of step in line—almost like a factory line—and do what I need to do versus the feeling of, should I create an organization that helps bridge the gap between restaurants and community bridges? When, you know, a variety exists [already]. And I think that kinda goes back to this sort of creator-centric world we live in now, right? Everyone needs to create. But there isn’t enough conversation around how everyone really just kind of needs to participate.

We just need to help and support the various organizations and communities that do exist that have been doing the work and just play a small part versus a larger one. I think a lot of things make that all a larger issue. And I think we saw that with the recent Roe v. Wade decision—people starting things and not finding what already exists.

Yeah. I think for me, I participate a lot. I started this one thing, and that’s more than enough for me! I am so happy to add my name to a list. I’m so happy to just be told what to do. I’ll just show up, tell me the time, where I have to be, and I’ll be there.

Rachel Schwartzmann: It goes back to the listening.

Naj Austin: Mm-hmm.

Rachel Schwartzmann: I wonder, too, if it’s our generation’s tendency towards perfectionism. This need to do everything perfectly all at once, or if it’s coming from a place of fear—there’s a feeling that it’ll never be enough unless you make yourself known.

Naj Austin: I think it’s that. I also think it’s we have a—we being the very large collective with a capital W—warped sense of almost like there’s less power in participating, [there is] only power in being a creator, which is very, very untrue. I mean, big things only happen because many people participate. You only make a change by literally having participants. Otherwise, you have one person.

I think we’ve lost that connective tissue between what it means to really be communally engaged with one another and that there shouldn’t really be a larger power construct. And if we’re all just trying to get the fridges full, then that’s the focus versus one must create to be a part of solving a problem or an issue—which is something we think a lot about Somewhere Good and are encouraged by what we’ve seen so far to make it easier for people to participate, by making many things known and aware. So if you have the feeling of: “I would love to start a community fridge,” we’re like, “But wait, there’s seventeen in Brooklyn. How can you make sure they’re stocked all the time?” [We want to be] that sort of reminder for people.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Yeah. I mean, I think it comes back to asking those questions. As you continue to build the community and create prompts that foster those conversations, I’m wondering if there is a particular question that you hope people will start asking you more often, whether it’s in the context of Somewhere Good, life, or creativity?

Naj Austin: I think for a while, I’ve personally and definitely professionally been stuck on this idea of: What does co-creation look like for me? [I’m] sort of viewing everything through the lens of community. And I think going back to my thoughts on a creator-driven world that we live in, how do we make it feel more communal? And so I think definitely, how can I put myself in a space to cocreate and/or just simply create alongside and with others?

As you mentioned with the perfectionism angle, a lot of people feel do feel like they have to do it alone; there’s absolutely reason why that has to be. But I think it requires reframing almost everything. Can I do this with the support of another person? If I’m having a dinner party, can I ask people for more help than I usually do? If I know a friend is building a website, can I be supportive and help them cocreate that into reality?

And so I think asking... oh no, I think I almost just quoted JFK by accident, [Laughs] is not where I was fully going, but yes! Not no to that! But what can you do for people, and how can you do it alongside others? I think [that] is something we should be asking ourselves now, and I think we will continue to be asking ourselves. But I implore people to think about it across their life and to just ask, you know?

I’ve definitely been someone who struggles with asking for help or support, even in terms of something that I know my friends would love to partake in. This feeling of “oh, we’re all so busy, and the world at large, there are things happening.” But I’ve learned, again, both personally and professionally, every time I have asked, “how can I build this from a communal lens?” it’s been one billion times better than if I had done it alone.

Rachel Schwartzmann: Absolutely. I mean, I think we’ve just seen how dangerous ego can be, and if we don’t let some of these things go, we’re just going to continue imploding. [Laughs]

Naj Austin: Yeah. [Laughs]

Rachel Schwartzmann: But I think in order to do that and to ask those questions, paying attention is so key. And so I’d love to close things out by talking about attention and having you share what you hope to pay more attention to in the coming months.

Naj Austin: I would like to pay more attention to my body. I do not listen to my body enough. My body is very communicative about how it’s feeling and how it’s doing. And I often find my attention elsewhere until things go south—then it’s all attention on my body. So I would like to check in more and be more mindful, starting from the moment that I wake up ... all the way until I’m going to bed. How I feel are not things I prioritize, and [I] often approach my body, health, my mental state as a sort of... I only pay attention when things are going well. Seeing it as more of a continual daily practice is something I’d to pay more attention to.

I would like to share that I hope anyone who is listening spends some time—more time—and potentially making it a practice and really checking in themselves outside of their devices, checking in with their friends more as well. I think that there’s that running joke that we’re constantly in unprecedented times—we are!—and I think [because of that] we need each mother more. And so, just honoring as much as possible is something I’d like to offer to everyone, and it’s something I’m trying to embed as a practice myself.

Rachel Schwartzmann: That actually just prompted one final question: How do you recognize that you are somewhere good? I think there’s this feeling of constantly striving—and that’s good. We always need to be kind of looking and aware of the potential. But in terms of being present, how do you know when you’ve arrived somewhere good?

Naj Austin: You’ve arrived somewhere good when you feel comfortable and open, curious and seen, but I think most of all at peace.


Rachel Schwartzmann: That was Naj Austin, founder of Somewhere Good. You can learn more about Somewhere Good online at https://www.somewheregood.com/ and follow them on social @somewheregoodworld. You can also follow Naj on social @najaustin. Stay tuned, as we’ll be sharing highlights from this episode on our own channels @slowstoriesofficial on Instagram and @slowstoriespod on Twitter. I’m Rachel Schwartzmann, and you’ve been listening to Slow Stories. Thank you so much for tuning in.