De Contente Mens

My father had a distinct philosophical bend, and I remember quite a few instances where he would take the time to share with me some of his points of view on life. He had a wonderful rose wood desk, and on that desk sat a most peculiar statuette in simple unfinished terra cotta. It depicted an old man in very simple peasant clothing with the proverbial worker's cap. His hands were clasped behind him, he was slightly stooped, he wore clogs, and he had the most benign, relaxed smile. I thought it was a bit of an odd statue, for its naive realism, as my parents had a penchant to collect modern art. My father must have noticed my confusion about this art piece, because he said: " Look how happy this man is. He has figured out the secret to happiness, just like the engraving on the bottom of the statuette says. It reads: de contente mens, which is Flemish for the satisfied person. This person shows wisdom in accepting his humble but satisfying fate.'' I could see that, and since that day I have often thought of my father's words and I wish I had the simple statuette. I do not know what happened to it when my parents 'marriage fell apart. To be content with your circumstances when they are satisfactory, to not always wish or want everything, to accept our limitations and limits, and those of the people in our world and circumstances, is no small thing, but a guaranteed recipe for peace of mind and genuine happiness. If only my father had been able to follow that wisdom himself. Married to a capricious and spoiled woman, overwhelmed in his ambitious career, he made some disastrous choices from which he never recovered. I have some very successful friends, scattered around the globe, and at times hearing about and realizing their success can be a bit hard, as I realize that all the chaos in my family partially numbed my own ambitions and dreams. Then I remember my father's words and the humble statuette of the content old man. It calms me down, while energizing me to keep on keeping on, as they say in my church, one foot in front of the other, each day anew, without regret or resentment, with compassion and devotion for my husband and son and all the animals who have my heart and concern, for the few friends who did stand by me through it all. I try to be that "contente mens", in good days and bad, remembering the rewards of humility's wisdom.