The only reason we want any thing or situation here on earth is that we think the having of it will make us happy. We leave our present moment and cast our minds on a daydreamed future. The problem being is that, like holding water in cupped hands and having it leak through our fingers, life is escaping while we are neglecting our present moment for those daydreams.
My husband and I recognized this phenomenon when we were young parents. We named it the “As-Soon-As-es.” As soon as we could afford the new car, we’d be happy. As soon as the potty training stage was over, we’d be happy. As soon as the promotion kicked in, we’d be happy. As soon as the medical bills were paid off, we’d be happy. The “As-Soon-As-es” became the daily drumbeat we walked to, and it wasn’t a happy rhythm.
I don’t want to pick bones with the fad of starting with the end in mind. It’s a good idea to have a goal if we don’t want to meander meaninglessly through life. However, somewhere along the line, maybe it was advertisers, maybe it was talk show media, somewhere we were fed the line that we’d be happy upon goal-arrival. Neglected was the journey to get there. The arrival was all that we were supposed to focus on. The idea of high school graduation was wielded like a baseball bat in our teenage years, pushing us to perform better in school. Gone was the idea that learning and love of learning should be life-long endeavors.
Advertisers selling high-performance vehicles conveniently omit the future maintenance costs and planned obsolescence that keep us on the treadmill of want. You never see that in the commercial as well manicured nails caress the leather bound steering wheel and the car speeds down a picturesque coastal road…fade out to brand name. Where’s the commercial showing me three years later, stuck in the mechanic’s waiting room for three hours? Where’s the commercial about me at a dimly lit kitchen table, calculating repair bills and trying to figure out how to buy the next car because I’m sick of fixing this one?
They’re selling us a moment. Have you considered the Photoshop phenomenon of dream vacations? I saw a hilarious social media post where the user uploaded the Photoshopped version of their destinations and their actual photos. Great Wall of China? Beautiful, lovely skies, epic views… But in reality, Disneyland crowds, lots of noise, and grey skies. Repeat the experience with the Eiffel Tower, Vienna boat rides, and Greek ruins. The Great Pyramids of Giza are surprisingly close to Cairo, a sprawling and densely populated city. You don’t see that in the photoshopped images. Rather, they look like you’d have to travel a hot minute outside of civilization to stand next to them. Have you researched how tiny the painting of the Mona Lisa truly is?
I think it would be better to travel like a child. Really. As a child, parents would announce you were going on a trip. You had no idea what Yellowstone was. You hadn’t researched the images. You were just going on vacation and couldn’t wait to see what unfolded. There were no expectations to ruin your trip. You were out to discover something. And you did! Bubbling tar pits! Was that a wolf in the distance? Geysers. Wowza! Bravo, Mother Nature.
My husband and I took a late trip out to the Oregon coast for whale watching. We’d chartered our boat, found a lovely condo on the beach, and planned out our tide pool adventures, researching much Photoshoppy Oregon coast glory. The sea was too choppy so they cancelled our boat trip. The whales were gone from coastal views. The tide pool park closed forty-five minutes before low tide. Our favorite part was watching the ocean from the perfectly situated condo. However, we didn’t see one ocean-view sunset. The entire trip, the coast was shrouded in gray. Gray skies, gray mists — gray everywhere, like the whales we couldn’t see. I hadn’t seen that side of the Oregon coast in any of the literature.
The drive there was a daylong, tedious adventure in our picturesque Jeep, which is much louder than our SUV. But now we know better. We planned our trip for the destination and should have planned it for the journey. Isn’t that what we should do in life? We’re going again after the PTSD of failed vacation wears off. We’re taking a more comfortable vehicle and finding somewhere fun to overnight at on the way. We’ll be listening to a thrilling book on tape on the way there, the kind that makes you want to escape the gas stations as soon as possible so you can be on the road, listening to the next chapter.
Goals are necessary, but day to day happiness is essential. Is the goal in mind the vacation, car, or home? I think there is one goal that trumps them all. The deathbed goal is the one I want to focus on the most. I want to be laying on my deathbed and looking back over a life of happy days, piled high. I don’t need to plan an adventure every day. Rather, I need to objectively step back from my life and evaluate what brings me happiness and what does not. What can I do less of and what do I need to do more of? The days are leaking away, landing in either the happy pile, the drudgery pile, or the too-busy-to-be-appreciated pile.
I can practice for the actualization of that deathbed goal every night. I can lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, and review my day. Did I connect with the people I love the most? Did I appreciate the planet I live on? Did I appreciate the before and after scene of the dirty dishes being taken care of? Did I create a good day or even just some good moments in it? Did I stop at a favorite store on my way home, despite time constraints? Did I do anything to make my laying in bed that night a time to smile at least once as I reviewed my day?
I have a greedy, little experiment I’m going to start. I want to design a happy day that I can live again and again. But that’s harder than I thought it would be. The deciding what makes me happy is what is holding me up. I have an aunt and uncle in Maine. We visit as “leaf-peepers” every autumn. They’re retired and every morning they make their coffee and sit at a cheerful table next to a large window that looks out over a picturesque little front yard. The stars of the morning, of every morning, are the bird feeders. The world stops as they watch the rascally squirrels navigate the tree and perform sprawling gymnastics to reach the bird feeders. Even the birds have a happy audience as they nibble, peck, fly away, and bring back friends.
The clock is ticking in the background. They enjoy each other’s conversation and the world they live in. That room is magical. It is rich with the energy of good mornings, good evenings, breathing in and out another day. It is rich with appreciation and decadent moments.
Shrug. Maybe happiness, true happiness, every day, repeatable happiness starts with a bird feeder and a window. I will have to try it here and let you know.
— Sheryl CS Johnson
SOURCE: If you want a VERY enjoyable stroll through a fantastic article with the realities of world travel vs. the Photoshop images, clicking through the images in this article is an awesome experience. I don’t know these guys but I sure had a jolly laugh… something to smile about tonight as I practice for my deathbed goal. https://www.boredpanda.com/travel-expectations-vs-reality/
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