"No man's happy 'till he dies," - Tom Waits Misery's the River of the World
Which a paraphrase of, and possibly an alteration to the meaning of line in a play by Aeschylus, and ancient Greek playwright, which gives the concept age.
I sit at work or at home and wish I was at the beach surfing. It is completely in my power to go, yet I hold back for various reasons and dream of the situation being different. I imagine what I would do if I won the lottery. I try to build the confidence to take a month off work. But I doubt myself that is really what I want.
I've been reading "All for a Few Perfect Waves" by David Rensin. It's a biography of Miki Dora, and I've gotten through the 60's to the point in Miki's life that he is about to leave California. While in California Miki would cheat, lie, and steal; do anything to avoid real work and stay free to surf. He would also visit museums, poetry readings, and other more intellectual pursuits. I read this book and it kindles my feeling that I'm spending too much time working and not enough time seeking adventure and "living life." Miki once graphically charted the rise and fall of surfing. The chart contains a small dip during the rising phase which Miki simply called the "Willie House" tragedy. The author of the biography got the story from Willie House as follows (paraphrased.)
Willie House: There were actually three tragedies which combined. The first was having to move away from the beach to be the sole provider for my daughter. The second tragedy was having to quit my sandal shop and take more steady work as a gardener. The third was the result of the first two and everything else in life being that I don't surf much any more.
The "tragedy" is repeated constantly with other surfers. I knew about it and wanted to avoid it, yet I'm succumbing to it now. My plans were not set in stone and so they changed in ways I didn't want It seems like everyone else wants me to do things that pull me away from surfing, and I'm not strong enough to overcome them all.
Yet I know it's my choice. I'm slave to no one, there are no indentured servants. I'm not in jail, or on parole. So it is me who is holding myself back. Why?
Is it fear? Yes, I fear loosing my job if I take too long a vacation. If I loose my job I fear not finding another one that's as good. It's also fear of loosing my wife because I'm neglectful. It's fear of spending money now that I need later. It's fear of being uncomfortable (i.e. getting sick, cold, lost, robbed.)
Is it not what I really want? This I don't know the answer to. I think the reason has something to do with not having done it yet. I've taken surf trips and vacations and I always enjoy the experience, but would I still if I was alone and/or the time was longer than a week? How can I know until I try? What if I risk my life as it is and find out that what I had I want more than what I chased. What if I take two weeks and come home only to wonder if I'd be happier if I took a month? And that brings me back to the title of this entry. Will I always be chasing happiness?
But to go beyond that possibility, is the understanding that I will always be chasing happiness any reason to stop trying? When my wife and I were discussing moving back to the beach town she reminded me that even when we lived there I was unhappy at times. I got used to getting to surf and then complained about the surf not being good enough. My response was that if I was unhappy one less day a week, isn't that worth the effort to move back? Yet, given the power to make a compromise happen (move to a different beach) I balked. I had reasons, but it was my choice and I made it to stay in the situation I'm in.
The Choice
The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story's finished, what's the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.
William Butler Yeats
One concept that I've drawn from this poem is that to achive perfection in either life or work you give up most of the other. To me, the better path is the middle one, yet I look at the benifits of the extremes and wish I had those too.
No man is happy untill he dies, and maybe not even then.
