serene
I can gauge what kind of mood I'm in by the music that I allow my computer to play. When I'm in a bad mood, there are certain happy go lucky songs that instantly make me hit the forward button. Rarely am I in a mood to let them play for more than a few seconds. Tonight though it hit me half-way through one such kind of song, that I was listening to it and not only that, I was singing along.
I sat on the porch reading a book my brother gave me, watching a brilliant sunset, and gazing at a giant pink elephant in the clouds. My favorite dog at my side, a nice cold drink, a bug free evening, and comfortable weather gave this regular evening an extraordinarily pleasant kind of atmosphere.
I was thinkin' about my station in life. Knowing that money can't buy happiness, but that stability can. I see the chaos in the lives of those around me and feel so grateful to be at such a comfortable place. I remember jr. high school and my parents being able to splurge here and there on luxuries for the first time. We paid for the convenience of a food program where people came to our house weekly to stock up everything we needed. We had a cleaning woman who came each day to help with the grunt work. I took voice and piano lessons. My brothers had the best sneakers for basketball. We got a computer and a couple years later, internet. For the first time, we weren't behind in bills, weren't having phone lines shut off, didn't eat hamburger helper every night for dinner. We were upper middle class; a long stretch from my early years. By the time I was a high school senior things were looking bright. My mom had a promotion, a new car, I was off to college.
Less than a year after that, she and my father had each been laid off from their 25 and 30 year jobs, when the paper mill they worked at was shut down. They each got a brief severance stipend followed by jobs that paid less than half of their previous earnings. They work harder and deal with more ignorance while their retirement funds quickly dwindle with their paychecks. I'd have to say it was never the luxuries that made us happy, it was the security of knowing our basic needs were met. If only I could provide that for them now; for everyone in the impoverished community that sinks further and further into the depths of despair. Going home now is a far cry from experiences my first year of college. Not a business wasn't affected, not a person whose brother or daughter didn't lose a job or money because a bigwig conglomerate came in and shut down a fantastic mill, just to gain technology and wipe out competition. When I hear of high school students or classmates who have decided to stay in the area, my heart sinks. I used to think that peopled didn't know what they were missing. There was some comfort in that. If they don't know what is outside the walls of the tiny hamlet they call home, they don't long to escape, don't feel confined by its tethers. I'm beginning to see that they do know what is "out there" though. They know that just out of grasp are amazing opportunities, thrilling endeavors, and risks; plenty of risks. But then again they have been taking risks all their lives, living out on a limb to survive, why should they have to take more risks to get ahead. It doesn't seem quite fair; they worked their way up the ladder, now they are slipping and not sure exactly where they will land.
This wasn't at all where I was going with this post, but here's where it ends up. I'm so happy in life now, just because I’m content. I don't have all the best things, but I know where my next meal is coming from. "I see the chaos in the lives of those around me" and I try to make it a little less chaotic. A little more comfortable. Secure. Because I want the people who give me such peace to have some for themselves.
I sat on the porch reading a book my brother gave me, watching a brilliant sunset, and gazing at a giant pink elephant in the clouds. My favorite dog at my side, a nice cold drink, a bug free evening, and comfortable weather gave this regular evening an extraordinarily pleasant kind of atmosphere.
I was thinkin' about my station in life. Knowing that money can't buy happiness, but that stability can. I see the chaos in the lives of those around me and feel so grateful to be at such a comfortable place. I remember jr. high school and my parents being able to splurge here and there on luxuries for the first time. We paid for the convenience of a food program where people came to our house weekly to stock up everything we needed. We had a cleaning woman who came each day to help with the grunt work. I took voice and piano lessons. My brothers had the best sneakers for basketball. We got a computer and a couple years later, internet. For the first time, we weren't behind in bills, weren't having phone lines shut off, didn't eat hamburger helper every night for dinner. We were upper middle class; a long stretch from my early years. By the time I was a high school senior things were looking bright. My mom had a promotion, a new car, I was off to college.
Less than a year after that, she and my father had each been laid off from their 25 and 30 year jobs, when the paper mill they worked at was shut down. They each got a brief severance stipend followed by jobs that paid less than half of their previous earnings. They work harder and deal with more ignorance while their retirement funds quickly dwindle with their paychecks. I'd have to say it was never the luxuries that made us happy, it was the security of knowing our basic needs were met. If only I could provide that for them now; for everyone in the impoverished community that sinks further and further into the depths of despair. Going home now is a far cry from experiences my first year of college. Not a business wasn't affected, not a person whose brother or daughter didn't lose a job or money because a bigwig conglomerate came in and shut down a fantastic mill, just to gain technology and wipe out competition. When I hear of high school students or classmates who have decided to stay in the area, my heart sinks. I used to think that peopled didn't know what they were missing. There was some comfort in that. If they don't know what is outside the walls of the tiny hamlet they call home, they don't long to escape, don't feel confined by its tethers. I'm beginning to see that they do know what is "out there" though. They know that just out of grasp are amazing opportunities, thrilling endeavors, and risks; plenty of risks. But then again they have been taking risks all their lives, living out on a limb to survive, why should they have to take more risks to get ahead. It doesn't seem quite fair; they worked their way up the ladder, now they are slipping and not sure exactly where they will land.
This wasn't at all where I was going with this post, but here's where it ends up. I'm so happy in life now, just because I’m content. I don't have all the best things, but I know where my next meal is coming from. "I see the chaos in the lives of those around me" and I try to make it a little less chaotic. A little more comfortable. Secure. Because I want the people who give me such peace to have some for themselves.