Alana Smith
Contentment: Being in a state of peaceful happiness and satisfaction.
Man, that sounds wonderful. I’m not sure I’ve quite found that state, but it sounds wonderful nonetheless.
When I was about to start nursing school, I had a little one-bedroom apartment that I could barely make the rent on. It was nice enough and it was safe, but it was lacking so much that I envisioned for my future. When I wanted to take my dog for a walk, I would drive over to a nice, quiet neighborhood, and stroll down the street. I’d pass neat and tidy houses, with trees that I didn’t know the names of. Swings would be on porches, wreaths on doors, and bicycles left in driveways. It was the American Dream.
“When I get married, I am going to have kids in a house like that, on a street like this, with a yard in the back for you,” I’d tell my Jack Russell. “Then, I’ll be content.”
Today, almost 20 years later, I’m walking a different dog, down a similar street, living out what I pictured back then. But as I walk, I still think of goals I’m chasing and have thoughts of “when we aren’t paying for day care, we will do this…” and “when I have more time, I can do that…and then I’ll be content.”
I think we are all chasing contentment in some way. I know I am. I yearn to be satisfied and at ease. I hope that at some point in my life, after I’ve checked all the boxes and done all the things, that I’ll be parked on a lake pier somewhere, rocking my chair in contentment. I hope the wind is in my face and I’m thinking of how good fortune and hard work have led to a life well lived. I sure hope that’s how it plays out, anyhow.
But, why wouldn’t I be content now, instead of in the future? My kids are healthy. We have food on the table. I have a house to call home. A family. Some good friends. I have transportation to a job that isn’t too bad. I have a good dog that listens to me talk. The American Dream, right?
Yet, I find myself searching for the next thing most of the time. The next project for our house. The next exciting addition to our lot. The next vacation. The next opportunity. The next challenge. I’ll finally reach the peak of something I’ve worked so hard for, and, shortly after, I’ll want to go just a little further, or make something just a little better.
Some days, I’ll sit down on my porch and watch my kids play in the yard, and I’ll get a sweet glimpse of contentment. I really am happy and fulfilled, honestly. But then, I’m right back after whatever thing needs to be done or planned. I guess I just don’t like to be stagnant. And as a mom, we are all just really busy tending to everyone. But even more than that, maybe it’s just human nature—our desire to constantly move forward. To improve. To better our situation for ourselves and the ones who depends on us. I don’t really think that’s a bad thing, when I think of it like that. Maybe I need to focus less on the end goal and more on the journey. Because when I’m finally sitting in the rocking chair on the pier, the journey—with its struggles and its growth—will be all that’s left to think about. And surely then, I will be content.