Quality of life really is a relative term. Some quantify their toys, while others keep a running total on their coin. Nevertheless the ones who have it right (don't question me; I'm a teacher and know what's right) measure it neither by the make of their car nor the placeholders in their wages, but rather by how visceral their experiences play out, by how much discomfort they pass through to learn the secret pleasures of the myriad cultures of our planet. And the companions we choose along the way make all the difference.
I don't collect Corvettes, US dollars, or Rolex time pieces. Not that I don't enjoy them all as an ends to a means, but the means cannot elude the ends. The purpose must remain at the core. Like dollars, experiences have the ability to pile up if you keep your eye on the prize, but what do you want to accumulate? Benjamin Franklin and US Grant or Andrew, Sacha, Yves, Mihn, Yungmi, Mackenzie, and Nicoli? I prefer the latter. A song lyric immediately comes to mind, "make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold." I'd go as far as to say get some bronzers in there. Acquaintances factor just a crucially to the stock piling of experiences as the silver and gold do. However, essentially the only precious metal for me is metaphorical, and the only money I need is to spend on sustenance and adventure.
So, with that short lecture, I depart from my homeland to continue my pursuit of happiness, but my door will remain forever open to the silver and gold of my life. Friendship shines like a golden tooth.
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