Money Never Sleeps: I Do

[A somewhat follow-up from Live Slow Or Why I’m Lazy)

In this money-money-money micro world called Manhattan, sometimes I feel inches away from insanity. I catch myself thinking: “I should be doing different things. I should at least be thinking more about money. Why do I have my weekends off instead of picking up a second job? Why don’t I love money as much as everyone? What’s wrong with me?”

I’m acutely perplexed as to if money doesn’t buy happiness, why is humankind so obsessed with it? (And why aren’t I?)

Now, I’m not arguing that money doesn’t improve lives: after all, wouldn’t it be nice if I could afford that ecotourism vacation to the Amazon while stopping by Rio de Janeiro to watch the World Cup? I’m simply stating in my experience, some of the grumpiest people I’ve met are multi-millionaires. Meanwhile, the happiest eyes I’ve ever witnessed belong to an old lady running a street vendor when I asked about her children, to my friend from a small town who can brighten anyone’s day, and to my mommy when she sees me at the airport after years apart: People who never have much money.

Neither do I claim overworking is bad; I believe a life of hard work and integrity brings sustainable happiness. A friend of mine works 2 jobs because that’s the only way she can afford school. My Statistics professor contested to working endless hours because he loves the flow state stats guides him in.

What I marvel is people secretly hating their jobs, yet working until they collapse and end up in the ER room so they can make money and earn a promotion so they can work longer hours and make more and more money… These people work for giant corporates that squeeze out 120% of their employees because they can. These employees work because they dream of being on the other end of the ladder, or because they know that if they stop, they’ll be replaced in a whim.

I’ve never resisted the idea that I’m a weirdo, but am I so in this case to not want to be part of that vicious cycle, to resist the trend? I value the little things in life, the precious times when I catch a glimpse of my family and friends on Skype, the moment when I go home and lie in my comfy bed, thinking of all the past mistakes and future possibilities. Why does valuing my personal time more than money make me sound so odd? I’m human; and I have dreams and hobbies different than making lots and lots of money – this shouldn’t be unimaginable, right?

Before You Wish To Travel The World

As a kid, whenever asked what I liked to do, I never hesitated to say, “traveling.” I’d spend hours watching Discovery Channel and reading tourism books, dreaming of faraway lands. By the time I was 8, I’d made setting foot on all 6 continents (Antarctica is a bit too cold) part of my bucket list.

I got what I asked for.

For the past 6 years I have been moving non-stop, and that doesn’t mean across town. I’m talking moving to different cities, states, countries, and continents. Culture shock has become a stranger to me. And just when I’m beginning to love this city, I’m leaving in 2 months. In 18 months, I will be moving again, God knows to where. (I’ve lost count too)

I first came across the word “vagabond” when I was 5 while watching The Lion King. Years passed before I understood its meaning.

Today I am a vagabond.

I wouldn’t take a moment back. Every place I’ve been has helped shaped the me today and gifted priceless memories. Furthermore, I know I’m lucky to have gathered all these experiences in my bucket called life.

A part of me can’t help but question where my home really is. Is it where my heart is? But my heart is inside me. I carry it with me wherever I go, keeping it from getting attached, because I know before long I will hit the road.

Be careful what you wish for, as the tradeoffs are hefty. Sometimes I kind of wanna miss a home, except “home” has become something so unreachable and abstract, so dimensionless and indefinable… If I got lost, where would I turn? Will I ever settle down when my feet are tired? Will I find a home when my young and vibrant years are over?

I don’t know; frankly I don't often think about it. Maybe I’ll take what I can get and be on my way, humming the forever tone that carries me across time and space, back to my innocent years:

 “It’s enough to make kings and vagabonds

Believe the very best…”

Post–Graduation: Life Is A Cartoon Snake

It’s been almost 2 weeks since I finished college. I knew I would be ecstatic when it was all over: I’d dreamed of this moment for years.

These days, I wake up and my mind is light and free. But I’m not jumping up and down. I don’t even often realize my newly earned happiness. Strangely, when a dream came true, I almost forgot it once was just a dream.

It’s extraordinary how our minds and bodies heal. In the past 365 days I have been through heaven and hell. Today, sitting here, I’m amazed by how at peace I am with myself. More than ever before the saying infiltrates me: this too shall pass.

It’s funny how when things are bad, we assume they will stay bad forever. When things are good, we hastily enter a state of euphoria and assume nothing will ever go wrong. Unfortunately this is far from the truth. Life is like a cartoon snake:

or a zig zag shape, a sin/cos graph, or an ocean with high and low waves. Whichever suits your imagination best. Life takes us up and down, right and left. The universe is so hustling with energy to lounge idly around, and us too little: who are we to demand a standstill? So hang on in there when you’re on the down low, and maybe, just maybe, before you know it, your life will change for the better.

Or maybe that brief window of heaven is a once-in-a-lifetime thing that will never return. That’s ok. You might not get back to heaven, but you won’t stay in hell forever. Things always change, and little me here is simply enjoy my brief peace before the next storm.

“That’s why life is like an Ocean,

some times its at peace other times

it's raging like a storm

But life is only what you make it to be.”

(Source:http://timbooktu.com/)