Subscribe“Material things have always meant happiness,” my curry-stuffed friend said as he chewed on the last bit of beef brisket. I looked at him, then to his iPhone 4, then to my relatively cheap(er) HTC Salsa and then I wondered why I’m still smiling after all these years.
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| Sawdust stove. Photo by ketoo |
A day ago I was in front of my class telling them a piece of my childhood, particularly the summer days I have spent with my grandmothers. We lived at my grandmother’s house for the most part of my childhood. Nanay and Lola Pacing were both notoriously stingy despite having a steady flow of cheques from a wealthy sister. They chose to grow their own vegetables, raise their own pigs and ducks, sourced their own water, made their own cooking stove, and if they could, they’d probably generate their own electricity. Nursery rhyme potential, I know, e,i,e,i,o. As a result, I learned how to grow plants, clean a sty and turn sawdust into a stove. Somehow, they managed to do those things on a daily basis and never complained. On times when I helped out, I actually had fun with the chores. My class was mesmerized at my grandmas’ resourcefulness. As a price for hearing my story, I let them answer Post-Reading questions on “Caring for Others”.
Back on our dinner table, my friend asked if he’s too ambitious. I said that it’s not a bad thing. I told him that maybe I’m not ambitious enough. I told him that I’m contented. I’m a person who’s easily contented. And I asked him if it’s a bad thing. No answer.
I suppose people have different views on happiness. Whatever makes one person happy may not be true for another. When I look at myself, like really look inside of me, I can honestly say that I am happy. I have sad times, that's a given, but I've always felt that I am still better off than most people. I can have more, I guess, and maybe I deserve more. But then I would remember the sawdust stove. I remember packing handfuls of sawdust into a paint bucket. I remember the amazement of having to cook a meal without spending for gas. I remember using the ash from the stove for washing up dishes. Maybe we deserve more but maybe we already have what we need and we just need to start being creative.
