There's Gotta Be More

Can money buy you happiness?

            The question “can money buy you happiness?” is often asked and has even become a sort of cliché question. I’ve heard a lot of different answers to this question, but the most common answer seems to be “no”. Many people claim that money cannot buy you happiness, but their argument seems forced and their lifestyles don’t reflect what they say they believe. I think that many people say this simply because they don’t want to admit that they are living for something as shallow as bills made out of paper. I also firmly believe that money itself cannot buy you happiness and true contentment in life, but I am not just saying this to make myself feel better or to make my life seem more purposeful. Rather, I am arguing this point because I honestly believe this to be the truth, both from my experience and from the experiences of others.

            People argue that money does buy you happiness, because they themselves have bought things that brought them satisfaction. I have no argument against this, because there have definitely been moments in my life when I used money to get something that made me happy. Whether that was getting a new video game as a kid, or buying a new laptop as a teenager, there have been numerous times when I gained happiness and contentment through money. So when I state that money cannot buy you happiness, I am not referring to the short, temporary satisfaction that one experiences when buying what you want. Instead, I am talking about a happiness and contentment that actually lasts and satisfies our desires. Money can definitely buy you happiness for short periods of time, but oftentimes what happens is that the happiness wears out within a couple of weeks or months. This is why we are constantly buying new things even though we don’t need it. People are always looking for the next big thing, because the last big thing faded away and no longer brings the same happiness as it once did. We as humans naturally try to satisfy our desires, and the reason why we keep buying more things is because we have yet to have bought something with money that brought us lasting satisfaction. This all goes to show that we have not found true happiness through money, or else we would not have the desire to constantly purchase new things.

            I have found that money does not bring me lasting happiness through my own experiences, and I am not the only one. Even some of the wealthiest people in the world, people who seem to have everything and anything we could ever want, still seem to be lacking contentment. This truth has been admitted by superstar quarterback of the New England Patriots Tom Brady. Tom Brady is currently earning about 14 million dollars per year, and he has won four Super Bowls throughout his career. He seems to have everything you could ever possibly want: tons of money, worldwide fame, championships, women, etc. However, when he was interviewed about his whole experience, he answered with a response that many people didn’t expect. Brady wondered why it is that he has gained and accomplished all these things, yet feels like there is something greater out there for him. He reached his goal, his dream, and everything he ever wanted in his life, and still he thought that there’s gotta be more than this. If money or any other material wealth can truly buy you happiness and satisfaction, why is it that someone as rich and accomplished as Tom Brady still finds himself searching for something more?

            Just as Tom Brady said, there’s gotta be more than this. There’s gotta be something more than money and wealth to live for in this life. There’s gotta be something greater. This is what I believe. So then what can bring us lasting happiness? I guess it’s up for you, me, Tom Brady, and everyone else to find out for ourselves. 

Pinocchio

How comfortable are you with lying?

I’m kind of like Pinocchio. Not because my nose grows when I lie, but rather because the truth will always come out of me. When you ask Pinocchio a question, either you find out the truth by him admitting it, or you find out the truth by watching his nose grow as he lies. Similarly, if you ask me a question, either you will get the truth directly from me, or you will be able to infer the truth by the vague, evasive answers that I give. This is because I hate lying, and I try to avoid it by all means necessary.

Lying is something that I personally always detested and avoided. Consequently, I am not comfortable with lying to others. Growing up, I was always taught by my parents, teachers, and family members that lying was bad. I never questioned this or tried to rebel against this rule that was set before me. Instead I accepted it and made it my own. I wanted to be an honest person that always told the truth, and so I tried my best to never lie, even when it was “disadvantageous” for me. Of course my parents knew this and so whenever they wanted to find out the truth, they would come and ask me.

Oftentimes, I ended up ratting myself out because of my tongue’s inability to lie. For example, when I was 5 or 6 years old, I somehow tricked my sister into locking herself into the bathroom. I remember we were both in the bathroom, and I told her that as soon as I left the bathroom and closed the door, she should turn the lock to the right. My sister was really young back then, and so I’m pretty sure she didn’t really understand what locks were. I am still struggling to understand what I was trying to achieve through this pointless experiment. Anyway, my sister did what I told her to, and she locked herself in the bathroom. After a few moments of celebrating my successful experiment, I told her to come out now. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure out how to open the door and she started screaming and crying. My parents immediately came running down, and unlocked the door with a key. They asked me what happened, and I was given a perfect opportunity to lie. My sister probably didn’t understand what happened, and she most likely couldn’t explain the situation.  I could have easily said I don’t know or have made up another innocent story. But lying was not an option for me, so I told them the whole truth, including specific details. Nevertheless, I was punished for my obnoxious behavior. But the interesting thing is that, looking back on this, I never regretted the fact that I had told the truth. I remember times when I regretted locking my sister in the bathroom, or times when I was bitter because I had received punishment for what had started out as an entertaining experiment, but never once do I remember wishing that I had lied instead of telling the truth. I rarely ever regret telling the truth, regardless of whether or not lying might have produced a better outcome for me.

Although I hate lying, there have still been plenty of times when I have lied. Usually when I do lie, it ends up being times when I’m asked embarrassing or vulnerable questions that I don’t want to answer. Lying is still the last option I turn to, so when asked an uncomfortable question, I usually first try to answer with evasive, not-quite-lying responses. If I am continuously pushed to answer, then eventually I might lie just in order to avoid any awkward conversations. But even when I make up small lies to get out of unwanted situations, I still feel immense guilt afterwards. I find that I try to justify my lies and convince myself that I had no other choice. Despite my efforts to comfort myself, inside I always know that for myself, lying is never the right choice.