Living
Someone once said to me that the secret to living life was doing what you loved to the extent that you stopped wishing you were somewhere or someone else. It seems so easy, this exercise in self-discovery, and yet we look around and discover time and time again that such happiness appears to elude the many who seek it. Is this because we rush attempts at perfection? Perfection that we assume will lead to riches? Riches that we assume will lead to happiness? Now don’t misunderstand me, obtaining wealth is by no means a sin, however it is the way we derive these pay checks that will ultimately result in the quality of life we receive.
From wide eyed and I-am-so-curious-about-the-world-beginnings where children, behind closed eyes, nightly swoon over faraway lands, dreams of dancing and space travel plans it appears somewhere between high school and death we are pinned down and corrupted by notions that appear to link financial success exclusively with personal well being. Ironed into our souls, through the media, is the idea that if we are rich we will be happy. We study to become accountants, lawyers and businessmen where fluorescent light lit hallways become our daily surroundings and trips to the coffee machine our thoughts of forbidden pleasure. Excluded are those who actually love what they do, but more most of us, of course, the result is typically mundane yet accepted. Society rises early from Monday to Friday, herded off like cattle to jobs they despise, talking about places they would rather be, but all the while feigning happiness because, suckling from the tit of the all-mighty dollar which will allow them to accumulate things: ‘this-was-how-it-was-supposed-to-be.’ But this is not living!
We need time to think about the decisions we make, because in subtle and not so subtle ways, they affect the directions that our lives will take. It seems ridiculous that, upon the completion of year twelve, students are not only encouraged, but also expected to select a University degree that requires a four-year commitment and the resulting pending career. For the vast majority of us, we have had little life experience beyond the obligatory school camp and the trip to Central Coast with Grandma. Conservative, narrow minded and conceited parents; suits, teachers and other disappointingly dreadful souls frown upon the idea of backpacking. ‘A frivolous waste of precious time,’ we hear them cry. However, the reality is quite the opposite. We are forced to fend for ourselves. We ask questions like ‘what is my budget for today’, and ‘where will I go’, ‘what will I do’, ‘where will I sleep’, ‘how do I get there’ and ‘is this edible’? Learned is self- reliance and tolerance. Ideas and beliefs we had never known existed present on a day-to-day basis. Introduced are situations that both frighten and excite. We strike up conversations and forge intensive relationships with people who, at home, we would have never even considered talking to as, heaven forefend, it would be considered strange. In hostels and other such pressure cooker environments we sometimes discover wisdom and sometimes we simply discover. Long distance busses allow for times of reflection and periods of loneliness lend tears with the desire for familiarity. More than any of this, however, we return home with an assured sense of who we really are and what we desire. And it is from this that we develop a sense of what we want to achieve in this life, and how to go about it, because even if we haven’t changed much as a person, no one returns home indifferent. Happiness is a choice and it’s one that everyone can make.
A short time after retuning home I was confronted by an old boss. He is, by all accounts, a walking talking experiment of corporate wastage and personal happiness sacrificed, and he said to me, ‘when are you going to get your life on track?’ And of course I just smiled, thinking, ‘when will you?’
Enjoy the flight
15 years ago
