Occasionally, we all lose sight of what truly is important in our lives. Living in a culture that often promotes superficial definitions of happiness can trigger these types of experiences. For Karl Rabeder, an Austrian millionaire, this realization took 47 years to manifest itself into a catalyst that led him to give away all of his money and possessions. Mr. Rabeder admitted that “money is counterproductive… it prevents happiness to come…” As a reaction to his epiphany, he is selling his home, vacation homes, gliders, and all “unnecessary” possessions and plans to move out to “a small wooden hut in the mountains.” Most importantly, he began to get “the sensation that there is a connection between our wealth and their poverty” after witnessing the increasing poverty on his trips to South America and South Africa.
Although we can’t all be expected to resort to actions as drastic as Mr. Rabeder’s, we can definitely take home an important lesson. Money does not equal happiness. Instead, let’s use this story as inspiration to reflect on the things that truly do make us happy.
Read Full Story at Telegraph News
And the winner is….SpiritClips.com! We are pleased to share with you the exciting news that SpiritClips has received two prestigious Telly Awards acknowledging outstanding achievement. The Silver Telly award is the Telly’s highest honor. The SpiritClips honored are:
Montgomery (Education Category)
The Cracked Pot (Animation category)
Founded in 1978, the Telly Awards is the premier award honoring outstanding local, regional, and cable TV commercials and programs, as well as the finest video and film productions, and web commercials, videos and films. The Telly Awards annually showcases the best work of the most respected advertising agencies, production companies, television stations, cable operators, and corporate video departments in the world. The Telly Awards is a widely known and highly respected national and international competition and receives over 11,000 entries annually from all 50 states and many foreign countries.
Why not check out & share these two films right now and see what all the fuss is about?! To celebrate, we’re offering you 10% off of a premium membership this month if you purchase/upgrade using these film’s links above. So take a bow, and accept this award right along side us!
I am sure that when you see a man going thru garbage to collect cans, the first thing that comes to mind is that he is homeless. However, that is not the case with George Ouellette. This 84 year old man collects 1000 cans every week to create smiles for children in need.
In 2005 his life changed when he saw a television show on Operation Smile, a company that repairs child’s cleft lip or cleft palate for $240. For George this became his purpose. Since 2005, Ouellette has collected over 100,000 cans, raising a total of $4,440 and providing 19 surgeries for children suffering from clefts.
Read more at Happy News
Imagine you go to a restaurant, have a delicious meal, great service and when you ask for the check you get a gold envelope, with a handwritten note on the outside that says “Have a Lovely Evening.” You open the envelope, waiting to find the check but inside you find a note card that says “In the spirit of generosity, someone who came before you made a gift of this meal. We hope you will continue the circle of giving in your own way!”
This is how a little restaurant in Berkeley, California, is trying to reinvent a true restaurant experience. The staff consists of volunteers, and the guests often end up signing up as volunteers after learning how truly wonderful this restaurant is. Your meal costs $0, however many guests make contributions in the spirit of “pay it forward” to those who will come after them. As if all of this is not enough, the net profits are turned over to a charity organization, that funnels funds to other “gift economy” activities. Some might say it is about love, about making the world a better place or simply being certain that giving is the best reward.
Read more at The Christian Science Monitor
As this is a graduation season, I would like to share with you a wonderful graduation speech submitted by our member Jamie Lara. This speech reminds us that above all else, the most important degree that you will ever receive is from the school of life.
“It’s a great honor for me to be the third member of my family to receive an honorary doctorate from this great university. It’s an honor to follow my great Uncle Jim, who was a gifted physician, and my Uncle Jack, who is a remarkable businessman. Both of them could have told you something important about their professions, about medicine or commerce.
I have no specialized field of interest or expertise, which puts me at a disadvantage, talking to you today. I’m a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know. Don’t ever confuse the two, your life and your work. The second is only part of the first.
Don’t ever forget what a friend once wrote Senator Paul Tsongas when the senator decided not to run for re-election because he’d been diagnosed with cancer: “No man ever said on his deathbed I wish I had spent more time in the office.”
Don’t ever forget the words my father sent me on a postcard last year: “If you win the rat race, you’re still a rat.”
Or what John Lennon wrote before he was gunned down in the driveway of the Dakota: “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.”
You walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree; there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on a bus, or in a car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account, but your soul.
People don’t talk about the soul very much anymore. It’s so much easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is a cold comfort on a winter night, or when you’re sad, or broke, or lonely, or when you’ve gotten back the test results and they’re not so good.
Here is my resume: I am a good mother to three children. I have tried never to let my profession stand in the way of being a good parent. I no longer consider myself the center of the universe.
I show up. I listen. I try to laugh.
I am a good friend to my husband. I have tried to make marriage vows mean what they say. I am a good friend to my friends, and they to me. Without them, there would be nothing to say to you today, because I would be a cardboard cutout. But I call them on the phone, and I meet them for lunch.
I show up. I listen. I try to laugh.
I would be rotten, or at best mediocre at my job, if those other things were not true. You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you are.
So here’s what I wanted to tell you today: get a life. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house. Do you think you’d care so very much about those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon, or found a lump in your breast? Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself on a breeze over Seaside Heights, a life in which you stop and watch how a red tailed hawk circles over the water gap or the way a baby scowls with concentration when she tries to pick up a Cheerio with her thumb and first finger.
Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Each time you look at your diploma, remember that you are still a student, learning how to best treasure your connection to others. Pick up the phone. Send an e-mail. Write a letter. Kiss your Mom. Hug your Dad.
Get a life in which you are generous. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you have no business taking it for granted.
Care so deeply about its goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have spent on beers and give it to charity. Work in a soup kitchen. Be a big brother or sister. All of you want to do well. But if you do not do good, too, then doing well will never be enough.
It is so easy to waste our lives: our days, our hours, our minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the color of our kids’ eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again. It is so easy to exist instead of live.
I learned to live many years ago. Something really, really bad happened to me, something that changed my life in ways that, if I had my druthers, it would never have been changed at all. And what I learned from it is what, today, seems to be the hardest lesson of all. I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that today is the only guarantee you get. I learned to look at all the good in the world and to try to give some of it back because I believed in it completely and utterly. And I tried to do that, in part, by telling others what I had learned.
By telling them this: Consider the lilies of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby’s ear. Read in the backyard with the sun on your face. Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness because if you do you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be lived.
Well, you can learn all those things, out there, if you get a real life, a full life, a professional life, yes, but another life, too, a life of love and laughs and a connection to other human beings. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Here you could learn in the classroom. There the classroom is everywhere. The exam comes at the very end. No man ever said on his deathbed, I wish I had spent more time at the office.
I found one of my best teachers on the boardwalk at Coney Island maybe 15 years ago. It was December, and I was doing a story about how the homeless survive in the winter months. He and I sat on the edge of the wooden supports, dangling our feet over the side, and he told me about his schedule, panhandling the boulevard when the summer crowds were gone, sleeping in a church when the temperature went below freezing, hiding from the police amidst the Tilt a Whirl and the Cyclone and some of the other seasonal rides. But he told me that most of the time he stayed on the boardwalk, facing the water, just the way we were sitting now even when it got cold and he had to wear his newspapers after he read them.
And I asked him why. Why didn’t he go to one of the shelters? Why didn’t he check himself into the hospital for detox? And he just stared out at the ocean and said, “Look at the view, young lady. Look at the view.”
And every day, in some little way, I try to do what he said. I try to look at the view. And that’s the last thing I have to tell you today, words of wisdom from a man with not a dime in his pocket, no place to go, nowhere to be.
Look at the view. You’ll never be disappointed.”