A Simple Question
author's note: A little shorter, and a little more serious, this is something that's been stewing around in my head since returning from our Montana/Idaho trip a little over a month ago. And Becca, I'll get to the "it," but I don't know anyone else I could tag. I have another friend who blogs, but it's through a different network or some such thing. Anyway, on to a simple question.
“Are you happy?”
It’s one of the toughest questions, because it cuts through the bullshit, and while it is also the basest of questions, I’m constantly amazed at my instantaneous gut reaction after those rare moments when someone asks it that simply.
“Are you happy?”
It’s rarely as clear or total as “yes” or “no,” but you’ll definitely know which way you sway. Without even trying, a flood of your life will rush over you, those issues that please you as distinct from those which bother, as stark as night from day.
On my trip showing Montana (and much of my previous seven years existence) to Jennifer, I was asked this question twice and am pleased to say that, even while some things could have been better (more money, more free time, less work. You know.), I could respond in the affirmative.
All said and done, Jennifer and I spent five days away from home, and while some of it definitely felt too rushed, I was ready to get back to Cedar, and even back to work (I'm the main person in charge of fulfillment for the family biz, and something of a control freak). After feeling worn out and somewhat stressed before we left town, after spending that time with my wonderful woman (and sometimes Wonder Woman, but I won’t go into that), I felt rejuvenated. I hadn’t mentioned this, but a couple weeks earlier, I took a super quick family trip to San Diego, and seriously got bitten by the traveling bug again. But the trip north was a good respite, especially knowing that we have another one scheduled on the East Coast at the end of July.
So I was back at work when the UPS guy showed up.
“How was the vacation?” he asked.
“Great,” I told him. “A little too short, but I was ready to get back.” Not necessarily super-excited to be back at work, mind you, but it was okay.
“Really?” he asked. “Coming back is always the worst part for me.”
“Hmm,” I might have said.
Okay, in my opinion, if the worst thing about a vacation isn’t, say, the amount of money you spent or getting bitten by an alligator or two dozen mosquitoes, but rather having to come back home, then there is at least one thing in your life you need to change.
Because that’s what a vacation is really, right? A crying out for change…of something. Maybe a change of pace, place, or just faces. If we were completely satisfied with our surroundings, we’d never need to go on vacation. One of the more fascinating things I discovered from 7 months in Hawaii was that their vacation destination was Las Vegas. Can you imagine? Having lived within 3 hours of Las Vegas for 8 years, I surely can’t, but I guess you even need a break from paradise.
I know it was probably a whimsical comment from the UPS guy, but too often it’s not just a joke. People are truly miserable to be coming home, and in that case, vacation isn’t what is truly needed. That’s when someone needs to sit down and ask you, and not because they want to hear a certain answer or tell you what THEY think you should change, but they ask just because they care. “Are you happy?”
And if you can’t be happy in your home, then none of the traveling, moving or vacations will let you escape. A bigger change is necessary. Happiness is attainable, and right now, I can’t think of a single person in my life who doesn’t deserve it. For you disbelievers, those of you convinced that we're only allowed rare moments of contentedness, I’m going to say that one again. Happiness is attainable, and right now, I can’t think of a single person in my life who doesn’t deserve it.
One of the greatest things about living in Missoula was a sentiment I believe shared by many of my friends there. Vacations were great, but it was also great to come home, but not for any particular reason. Certain things could’ve been better (I had some pretty shitty jobs… literally, and wasn’t always dating sane women), but generally I was pleased with the pace, place and faces. Generally I was happy. Any of you who know me then would be shocked to hear this now, but after a recent great vacation to Montana and Idaho, I was ready to come home to Utah.
“Are you happy?” Ray had asked me. He pulled me aside after a couple shots of whiskey and a little smoke. Since the throat cancer, he’s slowed down a little. Now he takes his shots with ice and a little clear soda. Ray is a whole other story. Ask me sometime.
The question caught me off guard, as it always does, and feeling the swell of emotions, the bittersweet mix of pining for a place I no longer live and living with a woman I will always love, I felt a lump in my throat. I could be happier if I could have it all, my love and all my friends and family together in a beautiful place where you could get a decent Bloody Mary on Sunday, but who doesn’t want that?
“Yeah,” I said. “I am.”
“Good enough.” Ray clapped me on the shoulder. “Now let’s go have another drink.”
“Are you happy?”
It’s one of the toughest questions, because it cuts through the bullshit, and while it is also the basest of questions, I’m constantly amazed at my instantaneous gut reaction after those rare moments when someone asks it that simply.
“Are you happy?”
It’s rarely as clear or total as “yes” or “no,” but you’ll definitely know which way you sway. Without even trying, a flood of your life will rush over you, those issues that please you as distinct from those which bother, as stark as night from day.
On my trip showing Montana (and much of my previous seven years existence) to Jennifer, I was asked this question twice and am pleased to say that, even while some things could have been better (more money, more free time, less work. You know.), I could respond in the affirmative.
All said and done, Jennifer and I spent five days away from home, and while some of it definitely felt too rushed, I was ready to get back to Cedar, and even back to work (I'm the main person in charge of fulfillment for the family biz, and something of a control freak). After feeling worn out and somewhat stressed before we left town, after spending that time with my wonderful woman (and sometimes Wonder Woman, but I won’t go into that), I felt rejuvenated. I hadn’t mentioned this, but a couple weeks earlier, I took a super quick family trip to San Diego, and seriously got bitten by the traveling bug again. But the trip north was a good respite, especially knowing that we have another one scheduled on the East Coast at the end of July.
So I was back at work when the UPS guy showed up.
“How was the vacation?” he asked.
“Great,” I told him. “A little too short, but I was ready to get back.” Not necessarily super-excited to be back at work, mind you, but it was okay.
“Really?” he asked. “Coming back is always the worst part for me.”
“Hmm,” I might have said.
Okay, in my opinion, if the worst thing about a vacation isn’t, say, the amount of money you spent or getting bitten by an alligator or two dozen mosquitoes, but rather having to come back home, then there is at least one thing in your life you need to change.
Because that’s what a vacation is really, right? A crying out for change…of something. Maybe a change of pace, place, or just faces. If we were completely satisfied with our surroundings, we’d never need to go on vacation. One of the more fascinating things I discovered from 7 months in Hawaii was that their vacation destination was Las Vegas. Can you imagine? Having lived within 3 hours of Las Vegas for 8 years, I surely can’t, but I guess you even need a break from paradise.
I know it was probably a whimsical comment from the UPS guy, but too often it’s not just a joke. People are truly miserable to be coming home, and in that case, vacation isn’t what is truly needed. That’s when someone needs to sit down and ask you, and not because they want to hear a certain answer or tell you what THEY think you should change, but they ask just because they care. “Are you happy?”
And if you can’t be happy in your home, then none of the traveling, moving or vacations will let you escape. A bigger change is necessary. Happiness is attainable, and right now, I can’t think of a single person in my life who doesn’t deserve it. For you disbelievers, those of you convinced that we're only allowed rare moments of contentedness, I’m going to say that one again. Happiness is attainable, and right now, I can’t think of a single person in my life who doesn’t deserve it.
One of the greatest things about living in Missoula was a sentiment I believe shared by many of my friends there. Vacations were great, but it was also great to come home, but not for any particular reason. Certain things could’ve been better (I had some pretty shitty jobs… literally, and wasn’t always dating sane women), but generally I was pleased with the pace, place and faces. Generally I was happy. Any of you who know me then would be shocked to hear this now, but after a recent great vacation to Montana and Idaho, I was ready to come home to Utah.
“Are you happy?” Ray had asked me. He pulled me aside after a couple shots of whiskey and a little smoke. Since the throat cancer, he’s slowed down a little. Now he takes his shots with ice and a little clear soda. Ray is a whole other story. Ask me sometime.
The question caught me off guard, as it always does, and feeling the swell of emotions, the bittersweet mix of pining for a place I no longer live and living with a woman I will always love, I felt a lump in my throat. I could be happier if I could have it all, my love and all my friends and family together in a beautiful place where you could get a decent Bloody Mary on Sunday, but who doesn’t want that?
“Yeah,” I said. “I am.”
“Good enough.” Ray clapped me on the shoulder. “Now let’s go have another drink.”
posted by A Man without a Band at 3:44 PM
5 Comments:
Several months ago, I slipped down to watch Jennifer's dance concert. We had a quick dinner at Chili's, and a nice talk. Erik and I were in the middle of some shit-sandwich or another, and I was having a bit of a pity party. When I stopped bitching long enough to ask her how she was, she told me, "I'm happier than I've been since I was 7 years old." I know that not ALL of that happiness is your fault, but because I love her so much, I've been wanting to thank you for a long time for contributing so much to her current happiness. When I see the two of you together, it reminds me that Erik and I have been, can be, and are (sometimes) very happy together, and that I need to cultivate that happiness. Sorry for the sap.
When I was little, every time someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd always answer, "happy". Wise for my years, I know, but seriously, what else is there? So glad to hear that you are, and hope it continues forever and ever. The sap is spreading, watch out!
Paul--regarding your questions on my post--I'm not sure there is a "blogettiquete" for responding to questions and posting and stuff. We'll have a picture and link lesson this weekend. Karaoke is looking good--but up to Mandy and Erik at this point.
I had so much fun on Friday. Glad I got my cherry popped. Hahahahaha. I love you for making my best friend happy. You are truly one of us now.
what a poignant post.
if someone asked me that question right now, I think that time would slowly come to a halt. I have a very hard time stopping my brain from thinking, constantly, and this kind of question begs for singular attention. I am not even sure if I could comprehend it on a deep level, because seriously I just keep going with the running dialog in my head (much as this comment keeps going, sorry) and I'm not sure if I could allow time to slowly grind to a halt. so, I might have to say "yep" or something equally not-thought-out.
my gut answer is no. I don't know why though.
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