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| In a yacht somewhere in Subic Bay |
The story goes of a guy who wanted to spend the night out with some friends at a fancy club. It’s the weekend and he just wanted to let loose. So he goes to the club, gets a table, and orders drinks. He and his friends hit the packed dance floor a few times and orders more drinks. Life’s good and they’re having fun.
But later the guy notices a room on the other side of the club behind black velvet drapes and guarded by a couple of beefy bouncers. When the curtains part each time somebody walks in—usually a well-dressed gentleman surrounded by tall, modelesque women wearing glittery, low-cut dresses—he could just make out the people partying inside. They were holding up champagne flutes and even had their own celebrity DJ blasting loud party music that was different from what he was hearing in the club’s main room. It looked like everyone in the VIP room was having more fun than he was.
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| Evening in a beach in Bohol |
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| Outside the historic church of Paoay in Ilocos Norte |
The guy is then filled with jealousy and rage. He wants to go inside the private room and party with the beautiful people. Why does he have to stay here in the main room where everyone else is? There’s nothing special about mingling with the hoi polloi. It’s not fair, he thinks. He wants to be a VIP, too.
But soon he realizes how irrational he was being. He was having a perfectly good time with his friends before he became aware of the private room. He had been content and happy doing exactly what he wanted to do that night, which was to drink, dance, and spend time with his friends. But he forgot all about that and became bitter and resentful just because he saw something that he thought was better than his current situation.
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| Loboc River in Bohol |
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| Hanging out with Abby at my friends' farm in Cavite |
I wish I could take credit for this story and tell you that I came up with it on my own. But I actually read a version of it online a few years ago, in an essay that I can’t seem to find now. I guess that just tells you how much the story has stuck with me.
For much of my adult life I’ve wrestled with the idea of contentment versus complacency: to choose to be happy with what I have or to search for something more. And this year, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about that guy in the club.
Often I forget how incredibly lucky I am I get to live this pretty good life because I fixate on stuff that I don’t have that seems personally out of reach, on the wildly hopeful chance that whatever it is will make me happy—or, at the very least, happier. That private room behind velvet curtains could be anything: the promise of professional advancement, a romantic interest, a better car, better skin, a roomier apartment. (Not saying all of these things apply to me; I’m just citing some specific examples).
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| Working on a yacht somewhere off the coast of Cebu |
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| Happy place in Boracay |
It could also just be what others have that I might want for myself. I see people my age having get-togethers in the grassy lawn of their suburban homes; I scroll past friends showing off a brand-new business or car; or posting photos of their kids that are old enough to drive or grow a mustache; or posing before a landmark in a city that I’ve always wanted to visit. Yes, sometimes, there is a split-second of why-can’t-I-have-that envy, but—and this is true—it’s always quickly replaced by genuine happiness (for the most part). Because these are people that I know, and it gives me pleasure knowing that something gives them great joy, enough for them to want to share it with the world.
It’s a peek behind the velvet curtains into a world that, yes, might possibly elicit feelings of resentment, but that also ultimately leads to me saying, “Wow, good for them!” This feeling apparently has a word, and it’s called compersion (look it up!).
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| Peace and quiet in Tagaytay |
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| A photo break while on an ATV adventure in the shadow of the Chocolate Hills in Bohol |
Like the guy in the club, eventually I reach that level of self-awareness where I know I’m being petty and unreasonable, especially to myself. Choosing to be happy for someone else’s new pair of kicks, fancy lunch, trip to the beach, quiet moments with their children or parents or significant other, or yes, chance to party inside a fancy club’s private room, is easier and much simpler than wallowing in feelings of bitterness and indignation. That’s probably my biggest reckoning this year.
Of course, those instances of jealousy at things other people have or get to experience can’t be helped sometimes. Social media is designed to highlight—and actually encourages—"winners,” which often incites covetousness and contempt, whether we admit to it or not. But what I’ve learned this year is that you just can’t spend too much time obsessing over what you don’t have, because that way leads to anger and frustration.
Besides, while you’re looking longingly inside the VIP room, you can’t lose sight of everyone else stuck in the line outside and can’t even get inside the fancy club in the first place. The lives of the fortunate and the “blessed” might be all over social media, but we should spare a thought for the luckless and the “cursed,” which, of course doesn't get as much screen time, so to speak.
(That said, a night at the club certainly isn't everybody's idea of having a good time. Some people just want to kick back at home, fire up Netflix, and sit back on the couch with popcorn and some Coke. And that's perfectly fine, too).
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| Outside an old church in Pampanga |
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| Good memories at this resort in Boracay |
And so, in the end, I'm like that guy and just choose to live in the moment. It doesn’t take me long to realize that, hey, I’m partying, too. It may not be with champagne and a superstar DJ behind velvet drapes, but the important thing is that I’m with my friends, there are drinks, and there’s definitely dancing.
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| Moonlight over Boracay |
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| See you next year, from Abby and me |
