I used the word “happiness” in the title because it’s catchy, but happiness is an elusive concept. Instead, I’ll talk about contentment, which I think of as one kind of happiness. Specifically, to me, contentment is the general feeling of being well, for no particular reason. Unlike the kind of happiness that comes from being given a shiny gift, contentment can, and does, last a longer time, and has fewer dependencies on the external world. Recently, I’ve been feeling content more often and for long durations than ever in my life, despite the numerous challenges I face in being mostly homeless, unemployed and single, so I’d like to share some realizations that have helped me get there.

• The path to contentment is subtractive, not additive. I believe that the state of contentment is achieved when we are free of all negative feelings, whether it be pain, anger, sadness, fear, guilt, shame, etc. As such, the path to contentment isn’t to add things to our lives, but rather to eliminate the sources of unhappiness. In some rare cases, you may need to add to your life to eliminate negative feelings. For instance, if the main cause of your pain is hunger, you need food. But, I believe there are only relatively few things that we truly need: water, food, warmth, hope and arguably, human contact. Everything else is icing on the cake, and like icing, might be as harmful as it is good, if not more so. If I am unhappy, I examine my life and my surroundings to identify the sources of my unhappiness. Then, I find ways to resolve the unhappiness, usually by addressing the issue at its source. The next step, of course, is to learn ways to resolve those issues. While there’s no single solution that’ll work in all cases, I found the next few points to be very helpful…
• Accept the world, yourself, and others as is, without expectation. I found that frustration and anger often arise when there is a gap between the universe as is, and as one believes it ought to be. I used to get mad at myself, because I felt like I wasn’t who I ought to be. This stopped when I learned to accept myself for who I am. I used to get mad or frustrated at other people, because I wanted or expected them to be or behave a certain way. This stopped when I learned to accept people for who they are, or at least came to accept that people are infinitely complex, are unique in ways that I may not even understand, and have better things to do than to behave as I expect them to.
• You can always walk away. Don’t like your job? You can walk away. Don’t like your boy/girlfriend? You can walk away. Is someone being annoying or hurtful? You can walk away. Does your apartment suck? You can walk away. Of course, walking away may have consequences, and should be a last resort. But it’s an option nonetheless, and simply knowing that that’s an option might help you feel better.
• Nobody can give you something you can’t give yourself. I used to look to others to give me love and validation. I needed those around me to tell me that I deserved to live, and that I was a good person. And if I was feeling particularly low, I needed someone right then and there. Of course, this lead to a lot of unhappiness because none of my friends or girlfriends have the time or inclination to be my 24×7 Ryo Support Service. So, instead, I learned to love and accept myself. This happened, for me, at least, when I realized that…
• Everybody deserves to live and be in this world. Yes, even me. And you. I used to think that I was only worth as much as my contribution to society, and that I had to do something great to be a worthy person. I have since rejected that notion. Even the CEO in a shiny suit and the star athlete on TV deserve to live, just as much as the stinky bum on the street.
• It is ok to feel bad sometimes. Life isn’t always good. In fact, it sucks a lot of times, or at least, it’s impossible to be happy all the time. I used to get depressed simply because I wasn’t happy. I felt like something was wrong with me or my life, and that made me sad. But then, I thought about my life, and realized that it was ok to feel a little sad. I’d just gotten out of a relationship. I didn’t know where I was sleeping that night. Of course I was a little sad! Ironically, just realizing that made me feel much, much better.
• It’ll be ok. If you find yourself or others worrying about some intractable life problem, and you don’t know the answer, just tell them (or yourself) that it’ll be ok. Life’s hard, but in most cases, it still some how works out. The only time life doesn’t work out is when you die, and well, then you’ll be too dead to worry.
• You have to want to be happy to be happy. If you read the above points and went “bah, humbug”, ask yourself, do you actually want to be happy? I didn’t. I used to think that I could become a better person if I punished myself. I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. Then, I realized it wasn’t working. I was still making the same mistakes, and feeling bad about it. So I decided to try something different, and treat myself with love and compassion instead. I think that worked better. And even if it didn’t and I’m the same flawed person I used to be, I might as well be a flawed person who feels good rather than one who doesn’t.

In the course of my journeys over the past several months, I’ve come to see how blessed I am. That word, blessed, is one that is not often used by my friends, for it often implies the hand of a divine entity, whose existence most of my friends do not acknowledge, preferring instead to use a more neutral word like “lucky”, which merely implies chance. I too, am not religious, and do not claim to know whether God does, or does not, exist. But I feel the word blessed is appropriate for how I feel, because it reminds me that life often is influenced by circumstances other than random chance, and while these circumstances may not have divine sources, they still deserve gratitude nonetheless.

So, on this Thanksgiving Day, I would like to say thanks to all that I am grateful for.

For starters, I am grateful for my parents, for having me and raising me in this world, and whether by intent or accident, shaping me into who I am today.

I am also grateful for my few, but supportive friends who have provided me with incredible emotional and logistical support over these past several months. Specifically, I’m grateful to Nikki, for encouraging me to follow my dreams and passions. I am grateful to Harold, for collecting my mail all these months, and for lending me a couch on numerous occasions. I am grateful to Joyce, for letting me use her home as a giant mailbox and accepting a small mountain of materiél on my behalf. I am grateful to Josh, for his couch, for his advice, and also for his help raising my hut. I am grateful to Keith and Stephanie, for opening up their home to me, and offering me a home away from home. I am also tremendously grateful to my broader network of friends, who I have relied upon for emotional support during some of my darker moments in recent months.

Though it is easy to forget, living on vacant undeveloped land made me grateful for all the technology that we have available. I am grateful for the fact that I can own a vehicle that has allowed me to affordably travel tens of thousands of miles in several months. I am grateful for affordable solar power, for refrigeration, and for efficient battery-powered tools and appliances. I am grateful for the internet, which has allowed me to stay connected with friends and family, and for giving me a medium through which to share my story with a much bigger audience than I could in person.

Last but not least, I am grateful to this country, and to all the men and women who made this country what it is. While admittedly not without its faults, few countries, past or present, have ever offered the individual so many opportunities and freedoms. Close to 9 years ago, I landed at LAX, with nothing more than a couple of bags, a laptop, and less than $10,000 in cash. I started taking classes at a community college, then worked my way up to eventually get a degree from a world class institution, and a job at one of the most coveted companies in the industry, if not the world. This is a country where people come to fulfill their dreams. I came. I did.

While there is much to be grateful for, it is also important to acknowledge that there are many who are less fortunate, and that there is more work to do. Today, there are countless millions who suffer from lack of food, lack of shelter, lack opportunities and freedoms. We are closing our borders to those who wish to join our ranks of dreamers. Budget cuts affecting public education are increasingly closing doors to those who aspire for a better future. Lack of adequate health care threaten the well-being of many. Our disregard for the environment damages the world in which our children and grandchildren will live. So while we say thanks for all that we have, I hope we can take a moment to reflect on our obligations to our friends, our neighbors and our children, to help create a world in which they, too, can share in all that we are grateful for.

On stability
I left my job and moved out of my apartment, partially to destabilize my life, and become more flexible. But I didn’t quite realize how I had compensated for stability in other ways, until I was on my own in California last weekend.

On Saturday night, I was in a motel room in Fairfield, CA, freaking out to the point of not being able to sleep, and looking out the window every few minutes. It was then that I realized for the first time how much security I derived from the two constants in my new life: Nikki and the Ryomobile. I feel safer with Nikki than I did alone, both for pragmatic reasons and purely psycho-social reasons. As for the Ryomobile, I had taken measures to make it more dependable, without even thinking much of it. I’d gotten the premium warranty extension, new tires, a premium AAA account, all in addition to plain old insurance. I did everything possible to ensure that the Ryomobile would be something I could rely on, and indeed, I had come to depend on it tremendously without even realizing it. Until, of course, I was alone in Fairfield, California with a rental.

To a large extent, my anxiousness was irrational. I had liability insurance, and I’d gotten loss and damage insurance through a 3rd party. But the thought of dealing with a damaged rental in the middle of nowhere all by myself, and having to deal with a separate insurance company in addition to the rental company, was more than I could take. I doubt I would’ve been as anxious if Nikki had been with me, or I was closer to my friends, or wasn’t going somewhere with no cell reception. I also would’ve been fine if I’d gotten LDW coverage from the rental company, or had my trusty Ryomobile with me. But that night in that motel room, I learned how I, as much as anyone else, need stability, and exactly what my sense of stability depended on.

On friends and family
Since we left the Bay Area in mid-April, Nikki and I have been drawing a tremendous level of support from our friends and family. So much so, that I feel like I have a completely different view on relationships than I used to, when I lead a more insular and independent life. This was really hammered home last weekend as well, when a series of small but potentially annoying problems were resolved thanks to the help of a few friends. Harold had been collecting my mail, but since he would be out of town, he handed it all off to Josh. Josh also gave me a ride from SFO to SJC, then offered me his couch my last night in the area. When I was driving down 101 with Nikki’s bike in the back of the car with no idea where to store it for the summer, I called Jesse and he graciously offered some space outside his house. Prior to that, Nikki and I crashed at Moomers without paying rent. Nikki’s parents are letting me park the Ryomobile in their drive way while I’m away. I can’t imagine how difficult our life would be if it weren’t for all these small but significant favors.

A part of me feels like I ought to be ashamed for relying so heavily on my friends and family. And indeed, I should do my best not to become a burden to them. But then, I don’t think there’s anything to be ashamed of, to ask for favors and be indebted to people. It’s what relationships are for. We live in an intricate web of relationships precisely because none of us can live alone. We all depend on each other, and we all need to help each other. Some times I can help others, and sometimes I need others’ help. Indeed, I feel much closer to my friends and family because my life is more intertwined with theirs, and because I feel grateful and indebted to them. I will do more for them in the future, because of what they’ve done for me.

When I learned about gift giving rituals in a social anthropology class a while ago, I didn’t get it. It seemed like yet another pointless ritual. But now I get it. If you want a society with strong inter-personal ties, you don’t want people to be independent and isolated; you want people to depend on, and be indebted to, each other. Sometimes it feels like modern American society places a little too much emphasis on independence, and we’ve forgotten that the reason why we live in herds is because life’s easier when we help each other. Especially in these hard times, I suspect that’s a lesson we could stand to remember.

Being homeless and itinerant, I’m seeing for the first time how prominent of a role one’s residency plays in various aspects of our lives, and how rigid its definition is. My car insurance company wants to know where I live; my health care options vary depending on where I live; Illinois wants me to get a new Illinois driver’s license within 90 days of “moving” there; Illinois and Chicago gun laws have different requirements depending on whether or not I am an Illinois or Chicago resident vs a visitor… It’s assumed that one’s residency, where one lives, is clearly defined with no room for ambiguity. And I suspect that’s true for most people; I mean, it’s where you go home to, duh. But for me, it makes no sense. Most of my stuff is in storage in Mountain View, CA. My mail goes to a friend’s apartment in San Francisco, my ammo component shipments to another friend’s place in San Jose. I am currently in St. Louis, will be in Japan next week, but we’ll be subletting an apartment in Chicago for the summer. Oh, but the sublet agreement doesn’t have my name on it. So, somebody tell me; where do I live? And why does it matter? Even if I “lived” in California, in the traditional sense of the word, I could still drive across the country and require medical care in another state. So why should my health insurance or auto insurance company care? And if I want to possess a firearm literally 4 blocks from Obama’s house, why does it matter whether I “live” there or am merely a visitor from out of state (residents must register their firearms, while visitors don’t)?

There’s definitely a stigma against homelessness in our society, which is ironic when you consider that we’re in this economic recession because we tried to give houses to people who couldn’t afford them. But if you want to lower your living costs, going without a home is a logical choice. People often pay 30% or more of their income on rent (probably more for the working poor), and forego health insurance, or skimp on food. That doesn’t make sense. You can live a healthy life without a big static home, but you can’t live a healthy life without good food or health care. Of course, there are some practical issues with true homelessness (as opposed to the bourgeois version Nikki and I have been enjoying). For instance, it’s hard to find showers that are open to the public. Having occasional privacy is probably good for one’s mental health, and a clean bed is necessary for sanitary reasons. But I feel like these basic amenities can be provided, separately from the traditional notion of a home (or the nearest alternative, the motel) if only we, as a society, were willing to accept the possibility of a respectable, healthy, productive life without a stationary home.

The title is an approximate quote I heard from one of the Google founders (or maybe it was Eric Schmidt), but it describes what I’m experiencing these days. Now that I don’t have two fat paychecks a month, it’s getting a lot easier to see what’s important and what’s not. I’ve sold three rifles so far–including the very first rifle I bought on my own–and have two more up for sale. Last night, I packed three boxes of books to sell to a used bookstore downtown–books I’ve hauled with me all the way from Chicago, and from apartment to apartment since. I’m donating a bunch of clothes, and selling my furniture.

Going to the match last weekend gave me a sense of clarity and focus as well. I know what my priority is now, and I know what I need and what I don’t need. It turns out that in order to focus on shooting, I had most of what I needed with me on that trip. The only thing I didn’t have that I’d need is my reloading equipment, but pretty much everything else (that is to say, most stuff in my apartment) is unnecessary.

On the other hand, this new clarity also threw a bit of a monkey wrench into our plans. Nikki and I were planning on spending the summer in Chicago, but Chicago is a rather inconvenient place to be if I want to shoot. Illinois, and Chicago in particular, has some stringent (though perhaps to some degree justifiable) gun laws that make things rather inconvenient for me, and there aren’t any good shooting ranges in the area either. I’m sure I’ll work something out though.

In semi-related news, I posted some pictures from this past weekend’s match.

On the 600 yard line at the California State Service Rifle Championships in Coalinga, CA

I haven’t had to think about money for the last few years. The fact of it is, I earned more than I needed, and I’m not an insane spender to begin with. But after a few years of being able to afford pretty much anything I wanted (except for that 160 acre plot of land), I started thinking that my relationship to money had gone out of whack (I mean, who’s hasn’t?). Part of the reason I decided to be unemployed for a while was to re-examine my relationship with money, and scarcity is a good opportunity for such re-examination.

The first step in this experiment is to gather data, and simply pay attention to my spending (something I haven’t had to do in a while). To establish a baseline, I spent money like I have been for our inaugural trip to Seattle and Portland. Our expenditures were as follows:

Food            397.95
Lodging         524.24
Parking         100.75
Gas              98.99
Entertainment    56.85
======================
Total          1298.78

This was for 2 people on a 7 day/6 night trip, and what stands out is our rather ridiculously high food and lodging costs. Including parking fees (common in cities), our lodging cost over $100 a night, and we spent close to $60 a day on food (this included a couple of $60+ meals, and one $100+ meal). This wasn’t unreasonable when I was working, and we’d travel on vacations. But now that traveling is what we’ll be doing most of the time, we’ll have to be a little thriftier. I’ll try to post similar tallies of future trips, but this’ll be our baseline.

Quitting one’s high paying job and spending some time traveling and living off of savings might sound like a stupid thing to do. I used to be much more of a conservative person, in terms of life decisions, but changed my mind when I read some research indicating that people don’t regret not working enough and do regret not playing enough. This same research was cited in this recent New York Times article about work life balance, which I thought was worth sharing.

In one study, these consumer psychologists asked college students how they felt about the balance of work and play on their winter breaks.

Immediately after the break, the students’ chief regrets were over not doing enough studying, working and saving money. But when they contemplated their winter break a year afterward, they were more likely to regret not having enough fun, not traveling and not spending money. And when alumni returned for their 40th reunion, they had even stronger regrets about too much work and not enough play on their collegiate breaks.

These days, I don’t understand why people spend their younger years working and saving money so that they could do what they want when they’re old and dying. I would rather enjoy life while I am fit in mind and body, and work in an office when I can’t do much else.