FEELING RICH CAN BE FREE

In the film High Society, Frank Sinatra once sang: “Who wants to be a millionaire?” I’m not rich, never have been, never will be. And to be honest, I’ve no ambition to be. That said, I wouldn’t say no to a few quid more. I must admit, I have found myself day dreaming about what I’d do if, for example, I won a few million pounds on the lottery. Which is rather silly, considering I don’t buy a ticket.

Sure, it’s nice to dream occasionally, and I accept that there are material things wealth could buy me, and I’m sure it would make me very “happy” for a while, but…

Would it buy me happiness? I don’t think so, for I don’t think that having loads of money equates to happiness.

And that got me thinking of this column.

How much money do you need to be “happy”?

Granted, and totally accepted, being stony broke, not able to feed ourselves or heat the house, then suddenly coming into, say, a thousand pounds, would make anyone happy.

I also accept that money in the bank can alleviate stress when unexpected bills arrive. But does money actually make us happy?

I mean, after the basic needs have been met – shelter, food and warmth – can money then buy you “happiness”? On the face of it many people would say: “Yes, of course!” But is it really that simple?

For sure, money enables us to live a better life, it buys us things we want or need.

Then again, millions of people spend a heck of a lot of money buying material things that can’t possibly bring happiness, not long-term anyway.

Unfortunately, I can’t afford to buy and drink Chateau Lafite. I’d love to be able to, and on a regular basis. Would that make me happier long-term? Ha, on this subject… maybe!

If you earn £20,000, then suddenly increase your earnings to £40,000 per year, does that mean you will be 100% happier? And if you kept doubling your income again and again, would you be thousands of per cent happier?

Is someone earning a million pounds per year bucketloads happier than the average Joe?

Having good relationships with family and friends, being part of a club or community, doesn’t cost money and goes a long way to achieving happiness. Faith, I know, also makes many people feel happy.

Despite rampant Western consumerism, there’s a big school of thought these days which says that buying fewer things actually makes you happier. Less consumption equals more happiness.

According to data from the Office For National Statistics and Happy Planet Index, the figure the average Brit would need to earn to live a happy life was £33,864 or “more”. Really? What nonsense.

I don’t earn anywhere near that amount, and I’m not unhappy because of it.

I’ve read recently that Oxford is the happiest city in the UK. But maybe that’s because of the architecture and history rather than money?

Aberdeen came in at 14th. Edinburgh 19th. And while Iceland is the happiest country in the world, the UK comes in at 20th.

Apparently, we are happiest when in our 20s. Blimey, I wasn’t, I was focused 24/7 on succeeding in my career at the time.

Happiness then drops like a brick well into our late 40s then climbs back up in our 70s. As for me, I’m way happier in my so-called middle-age than when I was in my 20s – I wouldn’t go back to that time if you paid me.

How about you? Are you happier now as you’ve grown older, or were you happier back in the day? Do share.

I know people who make more in a month than I do in a year. They are always chasing money. It’s never enough. They never seem content, never seem, dare I say it, happy.

I also know a few millionaires – some of them are happy. Others, not so.

Also, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that so many famous and rich people go off the rails and end up in alcohol and drug-induced stupors – their millions have obviously not made them happy.

At times in my life, and I’m sure the same goes for you, I’ve had more money. Sometimes it’s been less.

I recall when I had more money than other times, was I happier? Honestly? No, not really. If truth be told, it was often the opposite.

Some of my friends, the ones who earn vast amounts more, are actually surprised at how content I’ve been for years with life. For example, one day while visiting such a friend in London, he called me from his office. “Let’s meet for a pint later. Where are you right now?”

“In Hyde Park feeding the squirrels,” I replied. “I want to write about it.” He laughed down the phone at me and I could sense him shaking his head.

Yet I know who was happier that day, and it wasn’t the guy stuck in an office in Canary Wharf.

I love my job, I love working on my books, and I love writing columns for The P&J. I get paid every month and it pays the bills. There’s also enough left over to buy good food. And I’ve recently had a trip to Budapest.

Yet, if I did somehow win a million pounds, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at it. I’d buy a bigger house, on Royal Deeside somewhere. I’d then buy a car – I don’t have one. And I’d only ever fly first class on long-haul flights. But once the flight was over and I was back home, would I be any happier? I actually don’t think so.

For whatever hang-ups or insecurities or anxieties we may have about life, they will still be there, deep inside us, even if we suddenly came into a million or two.

The mantra pushed in the West seems to be work harder, earn more, buy more and you will be happy.

Happiness, I feel, comes from somewhere inside. Spending more time, whatever that may be, doing what you truly enjoy. That could be gardening, reading, chatting with friends.

I’m guessing such activities will make you way happier than buying the latest iPhone. Job satisfaction is also vital when it comes to happiness.

Regarding those friends I previously mentioned who earn vast amounts – they actually hate their jobs! True. They’re like hamsters on a wheel, working constantly in a job they hate, to earn money to buy things that obviously don’t make them happy.

So they work harder at that job they hate, to earn even more to buy more to find that elusive happiness, which, of course, they never seem to find.

In my travels around the globe, it’s actually not in the relatively rich West where I come across happy people, it’s often in poorer countries. Speaks volumes, that does.

Sitting outside an old coffee bar in Budapest made me happy a few weeks ago. Walking round Loch Muick always makes me happy. Being out and about on a crispy, cold, frosty morning? Likewise. And no money is involved.

The happiest I’ve been this year was once I’d moved back to Aberdeen six months ago. Every morning, bar a few rainy days, I was on my bike by 6.30am, cycling along the prom at Aberdeen beach.

It was peaceful and calm. The air and sun warm. I lay down on the prom wall by the sea, closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the waves. I had a huge smile on my face. I was happy. Very. A million quid in the bank would not have made me any happier.

I guess there is no one set amount of money that will make us happy, it’s up to each and every one of us to come up with our own figure.

Then again, I do not believe that money can buy you happiness. Not true happiness anyway.

I think to find true happiness in life, your life needs to have purpose and meaning.

And that leads me on to what is arguably the biggest question of all time…

SO THEY WORK HARDER AT THAT JOB THEY HATE, TO EARN EVEN MORE TO BUY MORE TO FIND THAT ELUSIVE HAPPINESS, WHICH, OF COURSE, THEY NEVER SEEM TO FIND

WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?: Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra in High Society.

IF I WERE A RICH MAN: Clockwise, from top left, past Lotto winner taxi driver Amo Riselli; comedian Harry Enfield’s character Loadsamoney; and seeing and being out in nature costs nothing, but the benefits are huge.