Content

It's strange for me to look at a man with no shoes, a substantial layer of dirt and grease covering his skin, and to know that even though this man has been sleeping under the stars for the past 19 years, he is more content than me. Though commonly used as synonyms, the words "happy" and "content" have come to mean very different things to me. "Happy" is more of a situational word, referring to good grades or a victorious wrestling match, while "content" describes an attitude that spans years to a lifetime. Contentment, in the Sam Spainhower Dictionary, is the ability to face every day, despite the trouble life brings, with acceptance. Contentment is the love of life and living, while happiness is pleasure at the temporal moments of our lives.

These thoughts came to me because of the emotional fortitude I witnessed in the people at St. Vincent De Paul's soup kitchen and the homeless in Golden Gate Park. I did not hear any complaints about being homeless or insolvent, and I could not find bitterness in any one customer's disposition. Rather, the struggle of surviving has pushed the disparraged together into one huge family who looks out for each other and finds enjoyment simply in the company of people. Everyone shared, no one fought for seats, and overall, despite their current economic situations, these people showed contentment with the life they have.

These observations caused me to think about the role of all the material goods that we attach ourselves to. It seems to me that as a society, Americans are not looking for contentment, but rather for a sustained happiness: a bunch of little pleasing moments compiled so that no moment is ever sad. Maintaining this happiness is killing society, however. The day to day existence of the average person has become about extravagance and luxury, building our bank accounts so that one day we can have mansions, Cadillacs with spinners, and so much money that we dont have to worry about working out budgets week after week. But where does all this go? What treasures are we storing in heaven, and what will moth and rust destroy? The current economic crisis sems to me, a reminder that the pursuit of wealth never ends well.

That is not to say that material items are evil and corrupt, and we should all sell our possessions to start an orphanage in Africa. However, in the words of Chuck Palahniuk, "the stuff you own, soon it owns you." As Christians, as family members, and especially as human beings, we have to remember that what surrounds us is ephemeral, a vapor in the wind. We can preoccupy and distract ourselves with as many cars, fancy dinners, and widescreen plasma televisions as we want, but every now and then, life is going to hit us like a a ton of bricks, sometimes all at once, and sometimes one brick at a time. I guess my point is, we can never build up enough money to keep us happy forever because the maintenance will kill us, but what is necessary for contentment is the ability to love what is and the people we have. Its kindof anti-climactic, but I guess either this idea cannot be explained in words, or I am not the right person to do it. Anyway, that's what I've learned from the first day of this trip.

Sam Spainhower