On Kangaroos and Happiness

My languishing while I wait to start work has engendered a bit of insomnia on my part (not so much insomnia, more like I have nothing to wake up for, so I wake up later and thus go to bed later. It is a vicious cycle). So I have taken to YouTube as part of my late-night hanging out.

Last night I found myself on YouTube, watching a two-part, very good BBC documentary (side note: BBC always has consistently quality programming. Like seriously, why do they get Doctor Who and we get Keeping Up with the Kardashians? There is more quality programming on two BBC channels than the whole of American television. But I digress) about this hardcore, rugged Australian man who cares for and rehabilitates orphaned kangaroos at his sanctuary in the middle-of-no where outback. The two-part series was entitled Kangaroo Dundee, and aired on BBC a couple months ago, apparently. The man, Chris Barnes, lives in a literal shack (no electricity, a glorified Bunsen burner as his stove) on his land, where he cares for "'roos" for a living. Ever since the show aired, the guy has been getting thousands of dollars worth of donations, plus ten marriage proposals from random British women (and it is not hard to see why: six feet, seven inches tall, pretty attractive, rugged Australian man with a cool accent. Plus he tenderly cares for cute baby 'roos for a living, and is totally --and adorably-- devoted to them. It's like the perfect chick-attracting formula). The show was endearing to watch, sometimes made you laugh, sometimes cry. But it was just so heartwarming to see someone give his all to help helpless creatures, and to see the kind of happiness such a simple living caring for these animals brought to this man.

Which brings me to my main point: I have noticed something in watching a lot of animal videos and animal mini-documentaries on YouTube (did I mention I have a lot of time to kill right now). Namely, it seems like the people that work with these animals, which often entails giving up a lot of the "creature comforts" that those of us living in modern society have come to expect, seem to be a lot happier and a lot more fulfilled in what they are doing than the people who stay in the hubs of modern society, and pursue jobs and careers that allow them to try to keep up with all the "creature comforts" of that aforementioned society. "Kangaroo Dundee" doesn't have an easy life: he lives alone in the outback (a place, as Cracked.com likes to remind us, whose pass time seems to be devising ways to kill us), battling the elements (mostly for his 'roos, not himself), and has basically forgone most of what makes modern living "easy" (and hygienic). And yet watching the documentary, I could tell that he has found a peace and a satisfaction in his life that is very rarely seen. He seems to be "living" a lot more than a lot of people. I wonder that, in eschewing a traditional modern life, and in devoting himself to these animals, he has discovered something that all of us stuck in the endless cycles of job-bills-money-relationships-commitments-"having things" --the "treadmill" that you often hear modern society compared to-- are missing. And maybe can never have while we run the treadmill. Perhaps there is something to be said for the "simple life." Perhaps we really don't need all of this "stuff" -- and all of the things we are told we need to do to obtain said "stuff" -- that we are told we need.

I am not stupid. I know that I have been fully acclimated to the pace and standards of the modern Western society. I would probably freak out at not having electricity or a real stove. But then I remember being a kid -- and I mean a young kid, prior to middle school -- I always liked going out into the wilderness, or playing in the creek beds in the hills near my childhood home. Mud and dirt and all of that didn't bother me as much, and I think I was more tolerant of less-nice conditions. Over time, that became less and less true. I imagine this might be true for a lot of people. I wonder if, in this transformation as we grow up and adaptation to modern expectations, we don't lose something. I think most people would give an arm or a leg to be as contented as the guy in the Kangaroo Dundee documentary appears to be. May we all be as happy and fulfilled as Kangaroo Dundee.

Also, you should visit his website, and if you have the means, totally donate to his cause. Because, adorable kangaroos.