The Pursuit of Happiness

Hiking down the Champion Trail, completing what would look like a large snake on Google Earth, I looked over to the left of me, and the wind created waves on the lake where Farmers Branch and Elm Fork Trinity River meet.  Across the lake were large buildings, office buildings with the well known brands displayed proudly upon the apex of the structure. To the right of me, a neighborhood of spacious, well built houses around park lands and canals and sidewalks.  People rode bicycles or tended plants near the trail, and it all seemed peaceful and calm.

I wondered, "Is this Happiness?" Of course it is, the realization of an American Dream, a house, a job, a considerable amount of security, the ability, probably, to go wherever you want.  Now that's freedom.  "But," I asked, "I'm happy. Does all this make them any more happy with their lives?"  I have an apartment, and it's not big, nor do I have the elegant openness of the houses I saw, nor the office in a large, glass-filled building where, at my leisure, I can look out over the parks and the lake and the canals and see my house. But I have a job that I am happy with and grateful for.  What makes my happiness different from theirs? 

I remember back in Georgia, as I have talked about many times, that my stepdad drove an ice cream truck around the poorer neighborhoods of Rockdale County.  We actually sold more ice cream to the children in the trailer parks than in the affluent neighborhoods.  The people watching their large televisions or playing whatever console was out at the time would not have bothered with the ringing bells of the rickety old van when they could get ice cream out of their own freezers.  But in those small streets that wound their way through the mobile homes, the ice cream truck  distributed not only ice cream, but happiness.  They ate sugary goodness, then continued to play outside.  I never once saw those children unhappy.  For while I'm sure they were aware of those places where rich people lived, where they were was home for them.  It was their world, and the things they had were good.  I will not pretend to think that it was all roses and lollipops for them, either.  I'm sure some had parents that were abusive, or drank, or worked all night to provide a roof over their shoulders.  I'm sure they came home tired and had no time for their children.  But so, too, are the people who live in the opulent homes.  They could be abusive, or drink, or spend too much time at work, not able to see their kids.  The conditions in which they live might be different, but often, the emotions around them are the same.  

So, back to my own situation, yes, I am happy.  I thought about it further, and realized that the ability to be happy in this country is the main reason why so many people come here, legally or otherwise.  And that's a rather common thing to say... you hear it on the radio and the television all the time.  But I don't think that people really know what that means.  To people who live in those houses, to them, why would people cross a river with nothing but what they could carry just to come here? I mean, poverty (as we define it) is here as it is elsewhere?  The difference being that here, there is the opportunity for happiness.  It's an old argument, one that goes back to the Declaration of Independence.  "Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."  The argument from the free market 

Trail underneath I-635. Dallas loves their bridges!

world is that our government provides for the opportunity for happiness, not necessarily that you will achieve it.  Honestly, happiness is relatively easy to achieve here, with a job, and the basic needs of survival met, the rest is the pursuit of being happy, comfortable with your life.  Any external force that interferes with this should be dealt with by the Federal Government.  I will admit that this is a little more liberal of a stance than what I would normally take, but every citizen should be afforded the "opportunity" to pursue happiness.  According to Maslow, this cannot happen until the basic needs of human survival are met.  Shelter, Warmth, Food.  I think this is ample justification for the programs that welfare extend to those people who might not have it otherwise.  And this is something that is taken advantage of and used for political gains, undoubtedly.  I do not agree with the extent that these programs are used, but that they are absolutely necessary, I will stand by and defend.  I would even go so far as to agree with the need for basic health care, the basics that keep us all healthy and able to pursue our goals.  Again, this is not to say that everyone should be taken care of completely for their entire lives, as we have had thrust upon us, but for children and those who cannot afford it, it's absolutely necessary.  

I have digressed some, but that's okay.  My main thought was that I am just as happy living my life right now as the people living in those houses and working in those buildings.  I know I've had a lot of stressful things that have happened to me (my Cousin who is a psychologist pointed out that of the list of the most stressful things that can happen to a person, I've had most of them happen to me in the past couple of years). I think I've come through the fire , with Help, of course, very nicely, and that, with that same Help, I can overcome any obstacles in my way.  The journey that I'm on, one that, in the end, will result in my independence, in my "growing up" as it were (you know that's not going to happen fully, but a little maturing wouldn't hurt), is just starting.  The one lesson that a lot of people need to learn is that looking up at the houses on the hill, or the towers of offices and the opulent stores that sell temporary satisfaction, all these things are just that, temporary, and there's little of that which is different from what I already have.  What ultimately improves that happiness is what I do with it.  From the people I meet to the things that I do, that will provide happiness, not the material objects I have around me.  Again, this sounds like a common theme, realized over and over again in sit-coms and cartoons, but it's the truth, and is something that is so hard to realize.  Not when every window out in the world broadcasts what you don't have, and how wonderfully happy those people are that do have it.  It's not the "haves" and "have nots,"  but the "lives" and the "lives not."  I would rather live, and be happy, in my small abode, than toil and strain, simply to get more of what is out there, and not be happy at all.  As Candide said, I am happy simply "tending my garden."  That is what I intend to do.  

Breaking Dawn Party

Last night we had a wonderful book release party for Breaking Dawn, the forth novel in Stephenie Meyers' series of young adult vampire romance novels. Honestly, I could care less about the books themselves. It's not my thing. I mean, nowadays, you have to be undead to be popular in a book. I like my main characters to actually be alive. And have some sort of a tan. But the girls all went nuts over it, wearing their costumes and t-shirts and the like. What impressed me the most was the individual efforts of all the employees at the Borders I work for. Everyone (it seems, except me) worked amazingly well to put on a party for the people that were there. I hope they won't mind me giving them kudos here, cause they deserve it. Everyone put the pieces in place. Brad thought carefully about putting a soundtrack together to put on the sound system, and did a great job in capturing teen angst with the romance that must necessarily come with it. Della deserves a medal, for her fortune telling skills that started at the Harry Potter events have carried over, and she had people waiting in line for her even after the book came out. She had to think on her feet for hours, giving "fortunes" out and counseling people. I've never been so impressed with an activity at any event I've been to than hers. We had our bouncers that could silence the crowd with a holler (and Stephen is used to doing that, having worked with church groups..etc..), and Jess and Stephanie worked those debates around subjects that could have gotten a little touchy. But also I was impressed with the corporate office, for planning a party that actually worked really well. I commend them for being able to know what events would draw the crowd into the event, making them as enthusiastic for a book as they would be for a Jonas Brothers concert.

A couple of things I'd like to note, as I was searching the internet this morning for ideas for the third Eragon book coming out this September (20th). A blog I saw noted that the hype for this book seemed manufactured, as if the book companies were trying to capture the essence of the Harry Potter phenomenon. She noted from people she talked to that the crowd was maybe 1/4th of the crowd from the last Harry Potter. And people got upset with her for saying it. The comments were highly critical. But when you look at the events through the eyes of a businessmen, those two things are exactly what you'd hoped for. Yes, there is a need to capture the essence of HP and bring it forward, to continue the love of reading and the event planning that goes with it beyond just Rowling's work. And while the crowds might not be as large, it makes sense, to have picked out 3 to 4 books a year that might garner 1/4th of the crowd of an HP party, and to boost revenue by that much. In these economic times, this is an essential part of the business done outside of the holiday season. It's what Gamestop does for the Madden games, or GTA4. And it works. Because if you can convince people that it's just not a book, but an event, then they will come, and spend money at the cafe, and spend money on other books, and nicknacks, and it will increase profits while getting children or adolescents to read, which will insure the bookstore profits for years to come. It's not a bad thing, it's good business.

***

I talk about a lot of things on here. Business, philosophy, books, etc... and I don't really go into my private life all that much (mainly because I don't have much of one.). I think that when it comes to what I've been doing recently, it's been getting up, eating, going to work, coming home, going to bed...repeat ad nauseum. And sometimes work gets me frustrated, that responsibility and happiness seem to always be at odds with each other. I sometimes feel that if I just stood at the registers and didn't make any decisions other than run the programs that are normal for a retail worker, then I would be happy . Because the peons don't have to decide, they just have to "do," like the drones on a Borg ship. But the goal in life is to climb that power pyramid, to attain responsibility, to become a part of something bigger than yourself. And that's what I want to do at Borders, to help people find joy in reading, to make a profit for a company I believe in (whether other people do or not), and to enjoy myself while I'm doing it. But sometimes it gets hard, for whatever reason, and I find myself wondering if just scanning groceries would be better. And I know that's not true. It's what the Buddhist monk said in the Monkees' movie Head "for where there is clarity, there is no choice...and where there is choice, there is misery." To be able to make decisions, to have any type of responsibility at all, makes it harder to just "do your job" and to not have any stress about it. But to just "do your job" is not enough, not for me anyway. I want to make the Children's section beautiful, an event, as it were, for families to shop and to enjoy themselves while they are there. I want to see the store clean and ready to have readers come in and browse the shelves with confidence that they can find the inspiration they're looking for, especially in these times. But all those desires cause stress, because often, in the reality that naturally comes with working a retail job in these times, nothing can be perfect.

Why am I saying all this? Because there has to be something more. And this is going to sound cliched, and goes back to time immemorial. I think of Voltaire's Candide when, at the end, they must till their gardens, and that true happiness can never be found. And while I see the logic in this, I have to reject it. If one must search the whole Earth over to find happiness, and fail in his attempt, then let it be so, for it is the journey that is important, not the end result. And further in Goethe's Faust where the doomed doctor wishes for knowledge, and in searching for power and happiness in every form, he finds that the one thing that tethers him back to reality is the love of a girl. We must work, we must search, and toil, and strive, and never yield (thanks Ulysses), and even if we never find happiness, if we never find love, then so be it. But it will be in the journey that we construct a life for ourselves. And in the love that we give, may we find that we have given someone else a moment of happiness to carry themselves on. We have to carry on. It's all we can do. But that is enough.

Molding Hearts, Reading Books, Being Happy

I began to think about my heart as a lump of unmolded clay, but with a hole, much like a doughnut. It beats and beats, and normally is satisfied, with a good meal, with a cozy night's sleep, with the sunshine and a mild breeze. But there comes a point when you meet someone, that the clay around the whole forms an exact image of that person. The strange property of this clay is that, when those people go away, the imprint of their being rests forever, but other people can still form imprints as well.

In my heart, there are two imprints, and they remain forever a molded part deep inside me. Whenever they come back in my life, they will fit perfectly, as if some part of a puzzle resolved, a picture brought back into clarity. And although there might be others that will imprint themselves into my heart, those two will always remain there.

***
I find it amazing, on these social networks, how much people hate reading. Time and time again I see profiles that, when it asks what their favorite book is, they answer, "I hate reading," or "Who has the time?" or something else, sometimes a vulgar response. That is the quickest way for me to close that profile out and discard it like so much spam into my inbox. I think I might have an answer for this. I was helping a customer, a adolescent black male (African American...this isn't a police report, and Glenn Beck is right, he's an American that happens to have distant African roots, and I'm describing him as having dark or black skin, so there ) anyway... he was probably a junior in high school, and he was looking for a book to read for school. He selected a book from the computer about the movie National Treasure, which was actually a kid's book, about a 4th grade reading level. But that's okay... I have taught kids that were in middle or high school and read at that level... I understand that. So as I was walking him back to the kid's department, he was talking on his cell phone. He told whoever it was that he was at Borders looking for a book, to which the person on the other end exclaimed (I suppose), "A book!" He told the person that he wanted to actually read something, even though a "brother" with a book was usually called gay. This took me by surprise. I've known from teaching experience that it is not popular in most cultures to be intelligent, or to succeed in school work. But I've also given an 8th grader, a black male, an 88 on an English test and watched him jump up and shout to his friend on the other side of the room that he made a B on his grammar test. Totally out of character, and it is one of the best memories I have from teaching. Students want to learn, they want to read, but the idea that doing so is socially unacceptable is keeping many of our kids from being the best people that they can be. The further accusation that someone that reads is "gay" is also unacceptable. The gay people that I know are very intelligent and literate, this is true, but the logic argument that thus if you read, you must be gay, is totally flawed.

As a footnote, I was not able to find the book, which frustrated me no end. I told him that I'm sure he'll be able to find something to read. As I got up and was going to suggest something else, I found that he had already left and was walking out. Doubly frustrating was that I found the books later in the cabinets under the board books where I store books.

***
Little things that make me happy:

After cracking open the eggs at breakfast, being able to throw the shells half way across the kitchen, and hit the trash can (no, I am not a basketball player), with kudos if I can bounce it off the cabinet, off the wall, and into the can. :)

Being able to pull my belt off my pants without it getting caught on one of my belt loops (happened today, actually ) Yes, I know, I'm weird.

The perfectly made mocha javakula at the cafe, with no ice bumps and a perfect sweetness (well, most good food will make me happy.)

Turning off the microwave right when the 1 goes to 0, leaving the clock blank, but not having sounded the "squealer" as my grandmother calls it. And similarly, waking up one minute before my alarm goes off and not having to hear the stupid thing.

And for those millions of people reading this (yeah, right), what little things like that make you happy?