WAS enjoying my coffee on my terrace garden this morning, watching friendly squirrels and birds pecking at pieces of bread I’d thrown for them, then slowly began to feel restless, even as I was enjoying the most peaceful moments of my day. I pondered on this and realized that this peace though fulfilling was still not lasting, and my mind was already saying, “What’s next on the agenda Bob?”
“Fried eggs!” I told my mind, and immediately, the peace returned, even as a sense of anticipation filled within me. Now, I must tell you, that fried eggs, though such a simple culinary skill, bypass many who try to dish this out to family or themselves. Fortunately, I was told by both my children and guests who came home, that I seemed to have done well with the eggs I’d fried till now!
And so, I drooled with the thought of the two, yes, two eggs I would soon be relishing, and as peace returned for a few moments was it a sigh of relief I felt from the birds and plants and squirrels, who must have felt my unease before?
I went down a few minutes later, pulled out the frying pan. Let me hasten to add, that it’s only an early morning case at the operation theatre that allows me the liberty of these pleasurable self-indulging moments, as my doctor wife drives away, and leaves me happily to fend for myself.
The frying pan was pulled out, I added a huge dose of oil, watched it splutter and chatter and then with a flourish that would have done Mandrake proud, broke two eggs into the pan. I watched them brown as they sizzled gleefully and with a deft movement scooped and landed the tempting offering into my plate, along with a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper.
But it was while eating the third slice along with the eggs, that I realized they were not appealing anymore. The excitement, the anticipation and the act of pleasure had been fulfilled, and was it my mind whispering again, “What’s next Bob?” What I wondered, would give me a more lasting satisfaction? And then it hit me. The satisfaction I got when a reader told me an article had helped them get out of a rut, the happiness on the face of someone I’d helped financially, the thankfulness of my children when they told me my prayers had worked, was far more long lasting, then all the peace I got from trees and squirrels or satisfaction from fried eggs!
Investing myself in the happiness of others, I understood, though not something one looked forward with as much anticipation as a pleasurable act for one’s own self, gave one a deeper, greater and nearly endless joy. How satisfied billionaires must be, I thought, that thousands of the poor benefited from their philanthropy, then just being the richest in the world! So, also with you and me, even if you don’t care for eggs..!