Discontent
"She told me to pick a place not like home;
A place to escape to and no one would know.
My secrets would be kept in an unsure smile and zip tied shut with fading memories.
Clear blue skies would cover what is now and what was then.
I said, “my happy place is far away from here, from you- from them. Underneath my bare feet would lie the grass that I was always told was greener on the other side- but now? Here? It is the other side and my God is it wonderful.”
She replied, “and what about everyone else?” But of course, so what? I’m happy now.
She said, “yes, but for how long my dear? Content only settles down for a short staying rent, until you realize that every new place you want to escape to, is filled with people who want to escape too.”"
~JPick
Don't worry, at first glance a poem can seem like a very odd beginning to an Odyssey article, but it's relevant I promise.
Growing up, discontent was somewhat of a constant state of mind for who I was as a person. Although “getting things I wanted” was a rare occurrence, even if it did happen I still always had my mind wander to the idea that everyone around me had it better than I did; better parents, a bigger house, more money… and those thoughts did nothing but fill me with envy and caused me to not appreciate things as they were and what I had. I know I can’t be the only one. Even those who are rich still have the mental capacity to want more or be jealous.
I feel like this discontented emotion is just a natural part of human nature. Yes these can be good things to create motivation to work harder, but as far as I go, it never ended up quite that way for me. My mother struggled her entire life to raise me, and one thing she always said to try to get me through the hard times is “the grass is always greener on the other side, why fight with what you’ve got now?” I never listened. I always misinterpreted the meaning, thinking that rather than ‘people are never satisfied’, it just meant that you’ll always have it worse than everyone else. I thought my own mother was insulting me and the way that we lived.
It wasn’t until this freshman year of college when a professor told us to “close your eyes and imagine your happy place” that I truly understood what my mother meant. I’ve learned how to analyze thoughts a lot since my senior year of high school, and I just thought about how everyone in the room with their eyes closed would have picked a different happy place: every setting, situation, storyline, character, wish, dream… would be different than my own. And that’s both beautiful and terrifying.
I praise my happy place, but I praise it for what it is: an intangible desire that is an escape from my reality. The grass will only be greener for so long. It is as if the chase is better than the prize. Now I just ironically spend more time thinking about how someone is living reality in my happy place, and dreaming about a completely different happy place on their own. How long will that even stay their happy place? What about mine? It is funny to think about- content truly is only temporary no matter how much you wish for something better. I guess you only understand once you’re grown. I praise that too, the idea of growing old of a happy place and living life for what it is. I feel like you can’t understand the true meaning of how your life is until you get older.
