I spent the day in the little town of Hartselle, Alabama with my friend, Cameron Buckner in the pursuit of happiness. It wasn’t much of a chase we were both doing something we love doing.
I wrote a couple of books and Cameron narrated the audio version of them. We were at the market promoting and selling the books. We were surrounded by at least sixty other people who were there to sell things they made. I can’t speak for the others but for the two of us, the selling was secondary.
There is a sense of accomplishment that goes along with producing something. The act of taking an idea and turning it into something concrete brings with it a certain happiness—a sense of fulfillment.
This is what the founders had in mind when they said that it is our God given right to pursue happiness. To work out a sense of purpose is essential to our health. Making a living by the sweat of our brow is a curse. Pursuing our interests, even when it involves a certain amount of labor, takes us away from the tedium of work and recharges us.
Though my writing may never produce wealth, and there definitely is work involved, it produces an indescribable joy simply in the act of doing it. Cameron said the same about his podcasts and book narrations. The freedom just to do something one loves to do—to pursue self-interest—is an important part of what it means to be American.
Many people take it for granted or scoff because the effort doesn’t lead to either wealth of fame. I’ve been told to give up writing multiple times by a host of people because “it will never amount to anything.” What they don’t understand it that the mere pursuit, already amounts to more than they can imagine.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to making money. I don’t need to write books to make a living. It’s a good thing too. Books aren’t easy to sell. Writing books is living. It is where my happiness lies and I pursuit it.
The prolonged adolescence of modern times encourages people to produce nothing, pursue nothing, and by inference be nothing, except the group-think parrots of a screen.
Sic semper tyrannis.
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