Having Purchased Happiness

Because money can't necessarily buy happiness, it is assumed that the two bear little relation to each other. Some people believe that money and happiness are contradictory forces in life, that "simplicity" trumps "wealth" to such a degree that a fat wallet dooms one to misery and dissatisfaction. I have one friend, an artist, who insists that to find herself suddenly a millionaire would be an unfortunate state, because to have money in this world directly correlates with corruption and exploitation. I agree with her up to a point.

A lot of us have forgotten that we spend money every moment of every day, not necessarily at the store or cafe, but sitting in our very homes. We spend money to heat our houses and boil water for tea, and every second the computer hums is a fraction of a penny converted into electricity. The taxes we pay support our troops, public education, roads, libraries, prisons, and scientific grants. Because these costs are so subtly hidden, revealed once a month or year in an obscurely written bill, we shake our fists and think not of the hours spent snuggling up in warm beds reading late into the night, but of evil bureaucrats skimming the cream off our hard-earned paychecks. We consider such pleasures not happiness purchased but entitlements earned by being members of a developed civilization.

Many of us earn and spend tens of thousands of dollars a year without hesitation, and worse, without appreciation. We live carelessly and thanklessly. Agrarian cultures grew food and thanked the soil and the sky, the seeds and animals. We live in absurd luxury and complain bitterly about the rising cost of gas and electricity, our lengthy commutes and the poor quality of practically free entertainment wired to our homes. Anything expensive and luxurious enough to require recognition, such as cell phones and cars, is redefined as a "need" so we can justify our resentment.

So the majority of our time is spent working 4-12 hour shifts at jobs that can rarely be described as labor. The time converts to money, most of which is lost to taxes that keep our communities operating (you want to close prisons? schools? animal shelters?), and then another huge percentage covers food, rent or mortgage, and utilities that keep our homes from deteriorating. Many of us have barely enough left to cover perceived needs - the aforementioned cars and telecommunication systems that we insist are necessary to maintain employment - as well as clothing, personal care, medical attention, and enough entertainment to keep the kids from putting themselves up for adoption.

If not for the credit industry, many of us would stop here. After all, these preliminary expenses are expensive. But credit enables us to go to college regardless of financial (or scholastic) ability, as well as buy a house, get married, and have children before reaching anything looking like financial security. Emergencies ranging from a medical catastrophe to a late night snack attack loom behind every corner. We swipe our cards, make minimum payments, and work like crazy to keep our jobs. All the while, few of us recognize our incredible good fortune to have been born in this place and time. Our minor plights and obstacles make the wealth and it's pursuit fairly interesting, sometimes scary and hopeless, despite the fact that the vast majority of us will never face homelessness or hunger, and almost none of us could starve or freeze to death if we tried.

The recession is depressing. Many Americans have lost homes and jobs, but these losses are almost symbolic when considered from a historical perspective. When someone "loses" a home in America, they are actually leaving a building they never actually owned and could not afford. It is sad and horrible and ruins lifestyles, but it hardly ever kills anyone. This is one of the worse things that can possibly happen to you...and it's not that bad. Granted, I've never lost a home to foreclosure, and probably never will. Not because I'm smarter than the average American but because my standards are substantially lower.

My point is not to be cold-hearted or even to suggest that Americans who are going through the hell of bankruptcy look on the bright side. My point is that a lot of us are spending thousands of dollars on happiness, and squandering it. Most of us are pursuing happiness on credit, happiness we'll never actually pay for, and blindly wondering when our boat will come in. And worse, many of us are anxiously fingering bills, avoiding the bank, and praying for a raise, because we don't know how long we'll be able to continue our cycle of financial abuse.

Someday we'll have to turn down the thermostat, we grimace, tugging our sweaters tighter, someday we'll have to sell the car, move somewhere cheaper, pull the kids out of private school... And in the meantime, the kids are happily munching on mac 'n cheese while hubby flips through hundreds of televisions stations and we play solitaire on the computer because who could find a deck of cards in all our junk?

In the meantime, we're happy. We've not only bought happiness, but we've been coerced into buying happiness by our friends and neighbors. We're jaded by happiness, numb to it's effects, occasionally guilty for our affluence. We try and buy more and fail, because we've forgotten the joy of the perfect sweater at a good price, we're bored by the relentless affordable car hunt and the endless questions and labels of quality: organic, locally grown, all-natural, non-pasteurized...

The good news? There's nothing but good news! The time has come to acknowledge it, to experience the beauty of life and freedom. Financially, it's dangerous to be happy - at least that's what we've been told since communism reared its red head. But why not try it out for a bit? Turn off the television and computer and count your blessings. Sit with your husband and take a stroll down memory lane. What is his favorite memory? What was your favorite day? What have you done right without meaning to? Does he still find you attractive? If you're single, get with your friends. If you are too busy working, why? Do you actually like your awful, thankless work? I love my dumb job.

Not being happy in this day and age is like owning a sports car you don't drive. You already shelled out the cash, you're paying more at this very moment. Why not enjoy this happiness you work so hard to purchase?