"A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but envy the rottenness of the bones."
Proverbs 14:30
“Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own.”
Harold Coffin
The men sat and laughed as they read over some papers. Contracts, I guessed. One of them clearly the salesman. The other two, far more casually attired in shorts and sandals, were going into the deal in a partnership. They carefully read over the documents before putting pen to paper.
"How can that sort of wealth even exist?" I questioned myself, watching ever more carefully as the three of them joked around on the back of the luxury yacht. With the deal almost done, a woman and two children joined 'the party'. She was the wife of one of the new owners and with children in tow, they were about to enjoy their new prized posession.
I sat and watched and imagined it was me about to enjoy the boat. It glistened in the evening lights. The woodgrain fixtures shined in the illumination of the interior. White leather seats contrasted with the darker surrounds of the spacious cabin - a large tray holding a number of expensive looking carafes of liquor pulled out of a cupboard before being pushed away for a later time. Stainless steel rails led up to the upper deck of the boat where the view would have been amazing. My 'boatwarming' party would have taken place up there. Sparkling champagne and a seafood buffet would be on offer for a few close friends to share in the Christening of my new toy. I had it all planned.
As the waiter delivered another drink to our table I realized it was not to be. The yacht belonged to someone else. As I sat at our restaurant table, I was merely daydreaming about something that would never happen. It was absurd to entertain the thought. Me? Ever own something like that? Right. Those boats belonged to the 'lucky' few who somehow were able to afford it. How exactly they did this still eluded me.
And so I sat there. Disappointed somehow. Jealous somehow. But I sat there. At one of the city's most extravangant hotels. Enjoying a lavish meal. On the marina where few people could afford to enjoy the opportunity to do what I was doing. Sitting opposite my wife, in a happy and contented relationship. And I'm complaining? Well not complaining, but maybe a bit envious of those on the boat. What the hell is wrong with me? I remember the 'wake up' moment of realizing my thoughts and feeling guilty. The guilt of not appreciating the fantastic life I have. My health and well-being. My freedom and wealth of experience. What about all those people worse off than me. Those who cannot afford housing, electricity, education. Those confined to poverty. Even here in my city, most could dream of the life I lead. The selfishness of wanting evermore and the ungrateful nature of that envy I had just felt began to weigh heavily.
The Pandan Chicken and King Prawn Spring Roll tasted even better once my head had been cleared of those previous thoughts. They could have their boat. Good luck to them. I realised just then, once again, how I was fortunate to be where I was. It's a feeling I need to be aware of much more often in future.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Lazy
I know. I'm lazy. But I made myself a New Years resolution that I would write myself something really special. Which means I have 'til December, right?
Catherine O'Hara
I'm lazy. But it's the lazy people who invented the wheel and the bicycle because they didn't like walking or carrying things.
Lech Walesa
I'm back!
After a self-imposed exile of 10 months, the world is once again blessed with the scribbles of 'He Who Dares'.....(queue the crickets...). The user name and password required to edit this page were long ago forgotten - just the perfect excuse not to write anything. After a few unsuccessful attempts the correct combination was found. So with the cobwebs dusted off, both from the keyboard as well as the brain, it's now time once again to put pen to paper....er....
It's a given that people buy expensive clothes as a means to gain positive feedback from others, and not necessarily because the item of clothing is first and foremost comfortable to wear or indeed practical. It's hard to receive compliments based solely on one's human qualities. Nobody ever comes up to you and says 'hey, nice person!'. As Jerry Seinfeld said, it's much easier to be a bastard and just match the shirt and tie. It seems to take far less effort and thought to make an insult than a compliment. An activity I just did with my 6th grade class was in response to this thought.
The 'Chicken Soup For The Soul' series has always provided an avenue for further thought. One such story involved a teacher who found her class were becoming restless, negative and irritable, to the point of being unbearable. The students were constantly arguing and bickering and were on the cusp of really getting out of control. She decided to deviate from her planned lessons (obviously no inspections looming at her school),and focus on doing some positive reinforcement. The activity involved the students writing their names on some paper, then passing the paper around so that each person wrote something positive on it without the student reading their own paper. At the end of the lesson the papers were turned in and the teacher also added her positive comment at the end.
At the start of the next day's lesson, the papers were returned - in stunned silence. Soon, whispers could be heard around the room "I didn't know he thought that!", and "Wow - I never knew she would be so nice!". Smiles eventually filled the room and a new, positive energy permeated throughout the class. It seemed the only way to 'encourage' anything resembling a compliment was to do so by way of non-verbal, written communication. From that moment however the students were noticeably more pleasant and polite towards each other.
The impact was both instant as well as life long, as the teacher unfortunately found out years later. Driving home from the airport after a holiday, she was informed of a former student's death as a result of injuries sustained in a conflict overseas. The former student in question had enlisted in the army and had become one of too many casualties. Upon hearing of this, she attended the young man's funeral. It was there that several of his classmates were reunited with their school teacher, where they spoke of her impact on their lives.
Later in the day, the parents of the deceased young man thanked the teacher for her attendance and all her time whilst being their son's teacher. They handed her an old piece of paper that had obviously been torn and repaired with tape many times. The parents informed her that he had the piece of paper in his possession when he died- indeed he had it with him the whole time he had been away. Before she had finished opening it she knew it was the paper from her class. There, were all the positive comments - faded but still readable. Such was the impact those comments had on him, that piece of paper was never out of his reach. Many of the other students, who were by this time also gathered around, had their papers with them too. Or they were in a frame by their bed, or in a special place where they knew it would be safe. The teacher was overwhelmed that she could have such an impact. She made sure it was part of her curriculum permanently.
It sometimes feels like an uphill battle in imparting a sense of respect in what seems to be an increasingly disrespectful world. My attempt in doing this activity had a similar outcome - the smiles, the positive comments and compliments. The ultimate goal though is to have the students continue these long after they've left the classroom.
Catherine O'Hara
I'm lazy. But it's the lazy people who invented the wheel and the bicycle because they didn't like walking or carrying things.
Lech Walesa
I'm back!
After a self-imposed exile of 10 months, the world is once again blessed with the scribbles of 'He Who Dares'.....(queue the crickets...). The user name and password required to edit this page were long ago forgotten - just the perfect excuse not to write anything. After a few unsuccessful attempts the correct combination was found. So with the cobwebs dusted off, both from the keyboard as well as the brain, it's now time once again to put pen to paper....er....
It's a given that people buy expensive clothes as a means to gain positive feedback from others, and not necessarily because the item of clothing is first and foremost comfortable to wear or indeed practical. It's hard to receive compliments based solely on one's human qualities. Nobody ever comes up to you and says 'hey, nice person!'. As Jerry Seinfeld said, it's much easier to be a bastard and just match the shirt and tie. It seems to take far less effort and thought to make an insult than a compliment. An activity I just did with my 6th grade class was in response to this thought.
The 'Chicken Soup For The Soul' series has always provided an avenue for further thought. One such story involved a teacher who found her class were becoming restless, negative and irritable, to the point of being unbearable. The students were constantly arguing and bickering and were on the cusp of really getting out of control. She decided to deviate from her planned lessons (obviously no inspections looming at her school),and focus on doing some positive reinforcement. The activity involved the students writing their names on some paper, then passing the paper around so that each person wrote something positive on it without the student reading their own paper. At the end of the lesson the papers were turned in and the teacher also added her positive comment at the end.
At the start of the next day's lesson, the papers were returned - in stunned silence. Soon, whispers could be heard around the room "I didn't know he thought that!", and "Wow - I never knew she would be so nice!". Smiles eventually filled the room and a new, positive energy permeated throughout the class. It seemed the only way to 'encourage' anything resembling a compliment was to do so by way of non-verbal, written communication. From that moment however the students were noticeably more pleasant and polite towards each other.
The impact was both instant as well as life long, as the teacher unfortunately found out years later. Driving home from the airport after a holiday, she was informed of a former student's death as a result of injuries sustained in a conflict overseas. The former student in question had enlisted in the army and had become one of too many casualties. Upon hearing of this, she attended the young man's funeral. It was there that several of his classmates were reunited with their school teacher, where they spoke of her impact on their lives.
Later in the day, the parents of the deceased young man thanked the teacher for her attendance and all her time whilst being their son's teacher. They handed her an old piece of paper that had obviously been torn and repaired with tape many times. The parents informed her that he had the piece of paper in his possession when he died- indeed he had it with him the whole time he had been away. Before she had finished opening it she knew it was the paper from her class. There, were all the positive comments - faded but still readable. Such was the impact those comments had on him, that piece of paper was never out of his reach. Many of the other students, who were by this time also gathered around, had their papers with them too. Or they were in a frame by their bed, or in a special place where they knew it would be safe. The teacher was overwhelmed that she could have such an impact. She made sure it was part of her curriculum permanently.
It sometimes feels like an uphill battle in imparting a sense of respect in what seems to be an increasingly disrespectful world. My attempt in doing this activity had a similar outcome - the smiles, the positive comments and compliments. The ultimate goal though is to have the students continue these long after they've left the classroom.
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