Sun, 24 Mar 2002

How easy it is to get caught up in the rat race

There was a mouse in my sock drawer. I realized that in the middle of the night when I heard eerie scratching noises emanating from my cabinet.

After quickly dismissing aliens, monsters and a pizza-induced hallucination, I opened up the closet to confront my fears. I was met with deep teeth marks etched on the drawer walls along with bits of sawdust scattered over my prized socks, evidence as if someone or something was desperate to get out.

I did what any normal person would do; I grabbed a broom, jumped onto a chair and called for reinforcements.

As the house began to scramble from my sudden voice breaking the night (OK, so I screamed), I began to think of the terrible things we were going to do to this obnoxious invader of my domain.

Battle armaments were being prepared, from two cans of nuclear grade Baygon to a wooden stake (we ran out of silver bullets). But as we moved in for the extermination, I began to feel guilty.

This poor mouse (not his cousin, the leptospirosis-ridden sewer rat) was probably born free, home on the range. Then, as he grew up, mankind had encroached on his realm, putting up houses, sewers, parks and streets on areas that previously held lush fields.

Instead of roaming free from pasture to pasture chasing butterflies, he now had to scale castle walls, scavenge food and escape detection.

The more I thought about it, the more I began to empathize. This mouse is caught up in a rat race.

A house has tons of goodies, from confectionery to cookies to chocolate cake to strawberry-flavored ice cream. The mouse could have survived with biscuits alone and kept away from compromising positions (i.e. my closet). But the choices he made determined his destiny (my sock drawer).

Kind of like us.

Most of us chase those impossible dreams; a high flying job, a BMW convertible, an exclusive apartment in the city. But will we truly be happy? And at what cost? Some of my friends took a step back, evaluated their situation and did something completely different.

One friend quit his high-paying (and stress-inducing) Wall Street job and now makes a living fishing for lobsters. Another quit her job to become a professional golfer (she's not that successful yet) on the LPGA tour.

Both of them quit the nine-to-five routine for something that has been nagging them for a while: freedom, happiness and contentment.

Perhaps the rat race is not for all of us, and its OK to do something different, something that may not lead to a house in the hills, the heights of your career, or a mountain of prestige.

It's all about your life, your decisions. It's not about money, power and possessions. It's about following your ideals on what truly makes you comfortable and content without exacting a high price. I sure don't want to end up like that mouse.

-- Vishnu K. Mahmud