life with a side of happiness, please.

I save everything.  Journals from first grade, notebooks from all throughout school, thank-you cards and notes of encouragement, and even music sheets from my first year of band.  So while digging through a box yesterday, I ran across a fairly recent writing of mine. Last year in comp, we had a series of essays to write, and this is one that I  started but never finished.  I like it so much because it was written about a month before graduation. The thought of graduation wasn't real.  I still hadn't picked a college, I had no real plan other than genetics of some sort, but maybe int'l business and maybe journalism and maybe ethnobotany if I decided I liked it enough.  I thought I would change out all of my friends, that we (my highschool friends and I) would never see each other or talk because we were miles apart leading different lives, and I NEVER imagined we'd actually find time hang out.  I had never lived on my own.  I had always pretended to be more prepared for life than I actually was.  I was just a girl trying to figure it out, much like most college freshman.  And as I reflected on what I'd been taught, what I'd overheard, and what I'd observed, I wrote the following. Allow me to share it with you...and to finally finish it.


Life with a Side of Happiness, Please 4/3/06

"Happiness?  Well, let's see, we have good grades, excellent colleges, dating, music, nice clothes, fancy cars, expensive homes, and more.  No?  Well, there are a few alternatives.  We have the party scene: there's alcohol, sex, gambling, rebellion, and a host of drugs.  That doesn't work either? Well, how about yoga, meditation, self-help books, zen-friendly homes, Dr. Phil, or attending church?" Somewhere in there, there has got to be an answer.  What makes a person happy?  What fills that void?  You know the one I'm talking about.  You can see how your friends fill it, with relationships, with food, with money, with attention...but you, of course, stay clear of those things.  You can always point it out in others, but all you know about yourself is that you feel it from time to time...that gap for which there seems to be no interim.  What can we intentionally put, or gain, in our lives that will lessen the anxiety we can't seem to shake?  Parents, mentors, educators, and spiritual leaders all have an answer.  The problem for a high-school girl wondering what to do with her life from now 'til end is that all given solutions seem to contradict.  "You can be whatever you want," say parents (but I have no idea what I want to be).  "Life is up to you! You make your life what you dream it to be, and we'll help get you there," say educators (but what about the unexpected things in life that change my plans).  "Life is not about you! Follow God's will, and everything will fall into place," say spiritual leaders (but I feel absolutely NO direction from God, and I truly am seeking).  They do, however, agree that there is some sort of achievable peace, or happiness, that is vital in the search for significance, and life is meant to be spent moving towards it.

And too often, the it is money.  From parents, we hear that money isn't everything, yet we see them arguing over how to spend it, where to invest it, and we ourselves experience some level of disappointment in not having enough of it.  Lots of sources push money as the key to a less-stressed, thus happier life, but no source is stronger than the home.  From our very earliest interactions, money is a key player.  Allowances for chores, compensation for good grades, an extra 10 bucks on Friday night, the "I just turned 16 car" that get's replaced by the "I just graduated" car two years later, and so on.  Those become our first experiences with money.  From there, it grows to wanting more, so we can buy more, look better, feel better about ourselves, get what we've always wanted--truly, it is a source of happiness for many.

With age, we come up with cognitive ways to get more money. Educators enter in here. The first time I remember hearing about career pathways was the third grade. I specifically remember the counselor saying "I know graduation seems so far away, but time will fly by, and nothing bad can come from early preparation."  The lesson proceeded with a list of careers, big and brave ones.  Doctor, lawyer, archaeologist, astronaut, computer engineer, firefighter, etc.  Cosmetologist, photojournalist, coach, banker, housewife, musician, athlete-- all of those were left out. Because really no one makes it in the music industry or on the pro circuit.  And of course, no one really finds hairdressing or money counting as a passion of theirs, but rather a second rate job that gets the bills paid.  And from there, we discuss the things we need to do to get to the big goal: the money-making career.  What courses, hobbies, and summer jobs look good on a resume, and what kind of people are good to network with.  What overseas internships we should take, what post-grad degree we should seek (if we don't save the world via Peace Corps).  So, is it knowledge that educators are so eager for us students to attain, or are they just some assistance on our pathway to the money-goal?  Perhaps it varies. (This would be where my essay ended...below is the recently finished product.)

In my pursuit, I've come across several articles and books that assure me I am only "seven easy steps away from the life [I've] always wanted." And then there are the catch phrases (work smart, not hard) and the infomercials (make triple your income now without ever leaving home). Though I've just begun deciphering these things on my own, I've found most of what I've heard to be...well, crap.  What I do know to be true are the paradoxes.  The more I have, the more I want.  The more I give away, the less it takes for me to be satisfied.  The more I enjoy what I do, the less concerned I am with income.  I babysit for some families for $3 an hour (sometimes less...sometimes free). But when waiting tables, I make around $350 in a weekend. I like children more than waiting tables, and it certainly has nothing to do with pay.  Working is a necessary habit embedded in our bones, and the more I skip out on it, whether it be not doing an assignment, not reading for small group, not giving my all at work, not loving the unlovable, no matter what kind of work is being skipped out on, I feel the void.  Giving is great gain.  Less really is more.  Serving is better than being served.  Giving less than your best is sacrificing the gift.  And in the hard stuff, in hard work, that is where I find happiness.