"No!" It was a shout delivered as a whisper. This had gone on long enough! What did I want? What was it that I sought so? Would I identify it when I saw it…or had I fallen completely, of course... maybe the chase had become my destination? Constantly in a hurry, always late for something, it almost felt as if I’d been racing through endless miles of life’s bureaucratic red tape…maybe it was the rush, or the money? Life had to be more than that right. Who am I kidding it is always about money. Women have sold their bodies, children stolen and men killed, for a handful of credits; who was I to think I was removed from the timeworn quest for the almighty silver. Money aside though, I sought something more supreme. Something near imperial, titled, divine. Yeah right! What could top money in the hierarchy of supremacy? Relevance; yes that was what I sought. Like every other person, I wanted to matter. No, I needed to matter. In a perfect world that would probably be of essence; you know, a world that cared for my petty insignificant opinion. Greatness rewarded perfection. Power, wealth, prestige and position, the world had limited the definition of greatness to these four words. The pursuit of it only left in its wake the death of families, lifelong friendships, not to mention self-will, but no one called it homicide. Instead, it birthed a less desirable juvenile- discontentment- an insatiable lust for more. By rushing through life, I had been subtly devaluing those around me, rarely allowing myself the privilege of fully participating and embracing the happenings before me.
Discontentment- he comes, he lingers and he robs you of your years. Gradually at first, slipping them past you with near precision that only the devil is capable, then all at once. He eats at them, keeping at it until little is left to call your own. He welcomes you, opening his arms in mockery, unable to contain himself at yet another conquest. At first, you attempt to shake him off, regularly trying to convince yourself that you are happy; content with what you have, the person that you are, and the people in your life. Slowly, you succumb to him. You embrace him.
Furthermore, it is easier to throw a pity party rather than pretend you have everything you ever wanted. Soon, life becomes a big ass chore, a sore boil in your back. Now all you have left is the chase- the unending hunt for more.
Discontentment is not an unwelcome visitor, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me. He is invited in, deliberately sought out by our unique negative drives. Everyone’s life is driven by something; some guilt, resentment, anger, the need for approval. These drives conveniently mask under discontentment, ushering him in as a more acceptable front, as opposed to their vulnerabilities. People driven by resentment or guilt, hold to their past hurts or mistakes. Their past manipulates their future. They rehearse their pain over and over again, perpetuating the past, as they stew in their hurt. Consequently, they immerse themselves into project after project as a crooked way to make up for their past failures, or a measure against a repeat of the past. Enough is simply never enough, a further conquest lies ahead that maybe, just maybe will finally compensate for their past, as well as hush their guilty bitter selves. Moist guilt can be brutal.
Materialism corrupts the mind, equating self-worth to net worth. People desperate for approval thus pursue more wealth in a desperate attempt to feel important and worthy. To feel accepted. ‘Like me! Like me! Then maybe if you do I will finally like myself’. If I have more, I will match up to everyone else, I will impress her; maybe my folks will finally accept and feel proud of me. I will be a force to be reckoned with- influential. And I’m not just talking about money here. Some of us are slaves to our beauty, a new pair of boobs today, nose job tomorrow, all in a bid to seem prettier; we can hardly remember the last time we left the house without makeup.
Periodical fights with the landlord over rent, yet we adorn the latest watches, shoes and designer clothes, not to forget the expensive bottle of Dom Perignon champagne and King George whisky in the kitchen cabinet. For some a decent meal or shirt is less a priority pit against the latest techie gadget. I mean, we are all slaves to something or someone; it could be our spouses, our jobs, family, possessions, desired image or even pure unrestrained ambition, just to name a few. However, it matters little whatever clothes your idol is wearing the disease is the heart. Reality check! If you can’t give it up, you don’t own it, it owns you.
Contentment is a balance, an equilibrium; a sentinel against desires gone wild and immoral ambition. Do not get me wrong, I do not condemn ambition. Unbelievably so, I uphold it. Ambition, like competence, is attractive, even sexy. No man should be ashamed of ambition. However, it is worthy of mention that, achievements are eventually surpassed, records are broken, reputations fade and tributes are forgotten. There will always be someone wealthier, smarter, prettier and better than you are; just none as unique. Therefore, by choosing contentment, you are not ridding of your goals or desires; you are simply demanding that they assume an appropriate humble position in your life.