Three Children. Happiness, Calmness, and Joy.

 

Oaxaca, Mexico

"Quieres comprar una pulsera?," or for my non Spanish speaking readers, "Do you want to buy a bracelet?" At first, I said no but then I changed my mind.

young girl selling bracelet in Oaxaca, Mexico

"Yes, of course, but only if you tie it on my hand." The purpose of travel for me is to observe life, which, by the way, I was doing sitting comfortably on a bench alone in Oaxaca's Zocalo enoying all typical evening happenings. So I saw this as an opportunity to explore that objective a little further.

"Do you go to school?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"I am 8."

"So what do you do all day?"

"I live in the pueblo nearby and I make these bracelets, and my mother makes pottery while my dad works in the village and we come here and sell it on the weekends."

"What happens if you do not sell enough bracelets? Do you have enough to eat?"

"Yes, if I don’t sell enough, my mom or dad or someone in the village, does and we always share"

"Are you happy?"

"Si, mucho"

And with that, off she went, with a handful of dineros - enough for several dozen bracelets though I only kept three, skipping to the next customer with a joy in her step and the freedom of true happiness. Her words echoed the essence of true community, a stark contrast to the competitive individualism that often permeates modern society. In that moment, I realized that this young girl possessed a wealth of happiness that often eludes us in our pursuit of societal expectations. Her contentment wasn't defined by material possessions or social status or ambition; it stemmed from a deep-rooted sense of belonging, acceptance, and gratitude for the life she led. We, on the other hand, are taught that we  can do better, make more money, get more likes on our Instagram page, etc. Perhaps there’s a balance, I don’t know. What I do know, is she was happy.

Amazonia, Brazil

Immersed in the vibrant heart of the Amazon rainforest, I found myself in an indigenous village, waiting to watch a dance and music ceremony. A few members of the audience were having their faces painted in tribal patterns by a native woman, a participant in the performance and a mother to three young children. Her eldest daughter, no more than eight years old, stood next to her cradling her infant sibling with gentle care while the toddler, who would otherwise be labelled a "terrible two" in our modern society, trailed behind with a quiet demeanor.

Two hours later, as the echoes of the dance and music faded into the rainforest's symphony, my fascination with these children intensified. Throughout the ceremony, they remained remarkably calm, free from the tantrums, cries, and constant demand for parental attention that often mark the behavior of young children in our society.

As a parent to young children once myself, and having observed families from diverse backgrounds, I couldn't help but contrast their tranquility with the boisterous energy that often characterizes modern childhood. The absence of formal schooling, a rarity in this remote region, seemed less relevant than their deep connection to nature, shielded from the barrage of electronic stimuli, processed foods, and the relentless pace of modern life.

In their quietude, they found solace and contentment, content to simply exist in the moment. Their presence served as a poignant reminder that perhaps there exists a balance between the structured world we've created and the inherent peace found in embracing nature's rhythms.

While I may not fully comprehend the underlying factors that contribute to their serenity, one thing remains undeniable: these children exuded an aura of calmness that stood in stark contrast to the frenetic pace of modern life. Their quiet demeanor, a testament to their harmonious existence with nature, offered a profound reflection on the concept of balance and the importance of preserving our connection to the natural world. Is there a balance? I do not know. What I do know is they were calm. 

indigenous village in the Amazon

Rathambore, India

We had just completed a Tiger safari at the Rathambore National Park. It had been a lovely early morning ride. We left at 5:30 A.M. and were on our way back. We had been fortunate enough to see both a male and female Bengal tiger along with peacocks, monkeys, and deer that were typical of the area. The tranquility of the Indian wilderness, painted with vibrant hues of sunrise, were a stark contrast to the bustling city life that we were about to return to and to that I normally spend my life in. 

And then something that could only happen in India, or Africa, we were held up in traffic on the main highway by an elephant. There, as I waited, I looked out at a small plot of land just outside my jeep. A young girl emerged from a humble shack, its metal roof reflecting the golden sunlight. The shack, nestled amidst a small plot of land, stood as a testament to the farmer's modest means.

The girl, her eyes sparkling with an innocence that seemed untouched by the complexities of the world, without a moment's hesitation, approached a flowering tree, its branches laden with delicate blossoms. She gently plucked a flower, bringing it to her face and inhaling its sweet fragrance with a deep sense of contentment. Her smile, as radiant as the sun, illuminated the simplicity of her surroundings. She turned and skipped towards her mother, who was toiling diligently in the field.

As I watched the girl, I couldn't help but notice her faded clothes and bare feet, a stark reminder of the family's humble circumstances. Yet, despite their poverty, there was an undeniable joy radiating from the girl, a joy that transcended material possessions and societal status. She had joie de vivre that eludes us in the modern world, and despite her circumstances. We have much and yet we are not content, much less joyful. Perhaps there’s a balance. I don’t know. But what I do know is that she had Joy.

Three children. Circusmtances. Happiness, calmness, & joy. Something to think about.