My friend renovates his brother’s house. Two weeks ago, they hired three Ukrainians to help. They get paid 12 €/hr. They work 12 hours a day. They asked for those terms.
Since it’s easier, they also asked to live on site for the duration of the project. They share a small, unfinished room in the attic. They have a little kitchen. It reminds me of my great-grandparents’ farmhouse. A house built in the 1800s.
Last week, the three workers invited my friend to lunch. Having almost nothing to begin with, they offered to share what little they called their own. My friend was floored. Working with them has been one of the most humbling experiences of his life, he says.
“They never scoff at me. They always tell jokes. They’re in a good mood most of the time. I get so much perspective from them.”
Look around you. Look at what you have. What else do you need?
I’m wearing 100 € shoes. They’re dirty. Torn in places. But they cost 100 €. My laptop cost ten times as much. I even have another one.
I’m sitting in a coffee shop. I already spent £10 here. I also bought a donut — a single donut — for £4.50. It was great, and I’m sure it had enough calories to replace at least one meal. But it cost £4.50. Who spends £4.50 on a donut?
“I would be a happy garbage man,” I said earlier today. I believe it’s true. I love people. I love helping. I enjoy being of service, no matter if it’s a small or a big one. But it’s unlikely I’ll ever have to be. I was born atop a fertile foundation of success, and I’ve made good use of it so far. I’m lucky, and I work hard. But dammit, if I don’t have a million reasons to be happy, I don’t know who does.
Actually, I do. You do. You have a million reasons to be happy. All you have to do is look. They are everywhere around you. Right now. This very second. You can’t count them on one hand. You can’t even count them on two.
I know, I know. You have objections. “But what about…?” I get that. I have my own sometimes. But they’re not real. Point in a random direction. Look. What is it? Chances are, it’s something — or someone — to be grateful for.
Maybe, your childhood environment wasn’t as conducive to material success as mine. Maybe, you can’t just spend £4.50 on a donut. I know I couldn’t until recently.
Still, look around you. Look at what you have. What more do you need?
Are you healthy? Do you feel good today? Did you exercise, even? Are your eyes working fine? Do you have glasses? Oh, you can afford them? That’s nice. Are you off work today? Or done already? Did you walk to the office? Work from home? Listen to some music on the train? Wow. All those are fantastic.
Do you have a home? Does it come with warm water? Electricity? How much did your phone cost? When were you without internet last? Do you remember? How far is the next grocery store? Do you have a Netflix account? How many Youtube videos have you watched in your life?
Is it sunny today? Is nature all around you? Can you see a bird sitting on a roof? Isn’t it beautiful? What about the people? Do they pass you in the street? Did someone smile at you? Nod politely? Did the barista wish you a good day?
Do you have a friend? Can you reach them right now? Incredible, right? Is your family nice to you? That’s good. Do you look forward to seeing them? Can you afford to travel? How often? Once a month? Twice a year? What about weekend trips? Day trips? Visiting a museum? Going to the movies?
How about ice cream? Having ice cream is a privilege. It’s not baked into the human experience. Can you buy ice cream in winter? Do you love winter? Or not having winter? Man, this train just keeps on going. That’s the important thing. It must not stop.
Every day, keep looking. Pointing. Thanking. And when someone invites you to lunch in their tiny attic, ask yourself a question: What else do you need?