What’s Really Important

Last time I wrote about getting something on account while waiting for a bigger payoff. Put this way it begs the question: What’s important; what’s really important? Is it a bigger house, a faster car, eating out every night? I remember when I was a kid a cigarette ad posing a man sitting in a convertible, a young woman at his side – long blond hair blowing in the wind. They were posed at the edge of a cliff, looking out at a sailboat in the distance, a tattoo in the pocket of his thumb, and of course the cigarette. Fast forward 70 years – lots wrong with that ad. But unfortunately it did set expectations as to wherein lies happiness. Or at least happiness for a young white male.

Media, let’s not blame just Madison Avenue, social media including pop culture, the influencers on Tik-Toc and other platforms continue with this soft and not so soft sell pitching bigger and more powerful cars, larger homes, more things, bump stocks for guns, the whole nine yards. Implication is that all this will buy happiness and contentment. Does it?

I’m up here in Northern Wisconsin with my son – our annual father/son week when we run some white water rivers – or used to back when we set up a primitive camp off one of the wild rivers. First thing – check out the river, smell the water. Then set up the tent, move in the dry gear then gather wood for the fire, popping open the first beer as soon as the kindling was lit (or before, I think it was before most times).

But then years back he bought a vacation home. I griped, “What no camping?” but then balanced indoor plumbing, screened windows, hot water, propane stove and electric refrigerator against the joys of mosquitos, poison ivy, an occasional bear, or a not so occasional skunk. Those former “things” won after the first downpour. Just saying, it’s important to have a perspective before rushing to judgement.

This week is our week “out” as we usually leave the Sunday of Father’s Day and return home the following Sunday. So far the forecast has been reasonably accurate: rain or T-storms all week. Nice to be inside. I can even write these essays which may or may not be posted. But what’s important is that a physical distance from our everyday location and life can provide an opportunity to explore what’s important. And while a roof over one’s head, hot and cold running water are important, they are not the guarantors of happiness or contentment even though I doubt if at 82 I’d still be happy in a tent in a wet sleeping bag.

And after all these easy words perhaps it’s time to look for the meat and listen for the sizzle (in a perfect world it wouldn’t rain on a Father’s Day or Fourth of July barbeque.) Things are nice but what’s more important are the relationships we have with others and how we treat them and ourselves.

My son lives 10 miles from me back in the city. We spend more time together up north in one week than we do all year back “home.” It needn’t be, but it is. As they say: “That’s life in the BIG City.” Being up here underscores just how important it is to make time to be together. He has his job and family. I have mine (OK, no job). Up here, especially with the rain, I have more time for myself – fewer to-dos. I have the opportunity to walk down to the river a ¼ mile away, checking out the grasses and wild flowers along the road. Heck, you can do that anywhere, but away underscores how important “MY Time” – time for and by yourself is.

And being away you quickly realize, thanks to ubiquitous cell towers, when you pick up your phone and call a loved one back home, how important other people are in your life.

No easy answers. Clearly some things are nice and some things are nicer than others. But other people and how we relate to them is far more important. Maybe it takes a week away to realize this or maybe not.

I’m suggesting that the important things are not things but our dear ones as we are for them. If it takes a pause or a trip away to realize this, so be it. And we can work to strengthen these important relationships with kindness and consideration, not just on Father’s Day but on everyday throughout the year.

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Ken was a Professor of Mathematics, a ceramicist, a welder, and an IBMer until downsized in 2000. He taught yoga until COVID-19 decided otherwise. He continues writing, living with his wife and beagle in Shorewood, Wisconsin. He enjoys chamber music and mysteries. He’s a homebrewer and runs whitewater rivers. Ken is a writer and his literary works can be found at https://www.kmkbooks.com/

He welcomes feedback on his articles and can be reached at havokjournal@havokmedia.com.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.