It makes me sad. They are all running toward "Happiness." Racing to get there before all the "happiness" is gone. Afraid the other, bigger, faster, more aggressive people will take all the happiness and there won't be enough left.
And so many of them spend their whole lives chasing the happiness that's supposed to be right over the horizon that they never get to enjoy all the joy ripening right around them. And when they get to where they were going, happiness is once again right over the horizon...
...and the funny thing about the horizon is that it's always in front of you, no matter which way you're facing or where you are. When you get there, it isn't the horizon any more.
It's like the book, "I Had Trouble In Getting To Solla Sollew."
I don't get sad with being judged for where I'm at too often (or stay that way for too long anyway) any more. I think I've finally learned from my dad's example. Where-ever he was at, he poured a cup of coffee, rolled a joint, took a deep breath, and was happy. He mastered the art of holding out his hand and sitting perfectly still until the Bluebird of Happiness decided to land in it.
I DO get sad with being pushed and pushed and pushed to train my kids to Chase Happiness.
I watch my poor husband, compulsively running in his wheel, scared of getting back in it every morning and more scared to just quit running. My heart breaks for him. It has made us materially quite wealthy...
...and he's so stressed he can't enjoy it, or even see it. We have cars that run, and a very nice doublewide that we own free and clear, and a back yard larger than some urban playgrounds, and happy healthy kids, and he's so stressed I hear every week about how we're barely making it.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"