The Virtues of Envy

Flag of Turks and Caicos over the marina

I like it when people say they envy me. I've been hearing that a lot lately, especially in the last week or so, since I joined old friends from Maryland on a liveaboard dive trip to the Turks and Caicos Islands. 


It was somewhat surprising to hear that on the boat, since we were all doing the same thing. To the dedicated diver, liveaboards are the best way to go. You set up your gear at the beginning of the week and spend the next seven days diving, eating and sleeping. It's the perfect way to "front the essential facts of life," as Thoreau envisioned himself doing at Walden Pond. I'm sure he would have included scuba diving as one of the essential facts along with eating and sleeping, if scuba gear had been invented back then. 


The boat we were on, the Turks and Caicos Explorer, is one of the nicest I have had the pleasure of boarding. The boat is big (124 feet), spacious, steady, sturdy, well appointed, serves great food and, at least last week, had a professional, attentive and fun-loving crew. And the diving was some of the best I've seen in the Caribbean (more about that in a near-future blog post). 


Furthermore, the weather was almost perfect, and even though we were well on the other side of the Tropic of Cancer, it was a damn sight more pleasant than the scorching temperatures of the DC area and the Midwest (two of the divers had escaped from Kansas). The constant trade winds over the water moderate the temperature, and the occasional brief tropical rain can almost make you want a sweater.

A view that inspires gratitude

Anyway, since everyone aboard was doing the same thing I was, why would any of them envy me? For some of them at least, it's easy to understand. They're still working for a living, while I and several others have passed on to the world of no deadlines, no bosses, no staff and many other things that used to dominate our lives. 


Since I returned, I've heard more understandable but equally welcome envy from non-diving friends, too, and it finally dawned on me that this sort of envy is a positive thing, not a destructive, soul-tormenting jealousy, but rather an appreciation.


I claim no virtue in having reached this state. Yes, I worked and earned most of my retirement income, but I am also incredibly lucky. Not everyone these days can even think about retirement, and that is very sad. My generation may be the last in America that can not tell our children they have a good chance of living better than we do. 


All of that contributes to the feeling of gratitude I have when I go off to the Turks and Caicos or some of the even more exotic trips I'm planning soon. I have no sense of entitlement. Indeed, when I think about it, I'm most grateful that I didn't get everything I deserved in life. 

May envy lift you high enough to see it all.

What I did get is the opportunity to do what I'm doing now, traveling, photographing places and wildlife and sharing what I see with anyone who's interested. 


If people envy that, as so many have said they do lately, well, that just confirms for me that I'm doing what I should be doing, seizing the opportunity to live the life I have dreamed of. Some people might live through me that way. I hope that more will do the same thing, no matter what their dream life is (as long as they're not hurting other people and creatures, of course). 


By the way, there are people I envy, too. Not because I want the life they have necessarily, but because they are living their own dreams, often in the face of serious challenges. They weren't given the opportunities I've had; they had to make their own, and the value of what they do is magnified many times over.