http://features.insing.com/feature/tabloid-new-life-for-rich-boy/id-156d3f00/
Singaporeans are miserable and “poor”. At least that is what the news and Facebook updates tell me.
Perhaps it is true, but I would argue that a lot of it is self-inflicted. Still, it can be hard to argue against the evidence.
Singapore is reportedly the sixth most expensive city in the world in which to live, and paying for things with our earnings that have not gone up much in light of inflation – isn’t making things easy.
We’re overworked, coping with greater stress levels, and packing ourselves in overcrowded trains that are just as temperamental as we are.
And we haven’t even begun to talk about what we have to pay to get a car, on roads that are already seeing more traffic jams.
The answer to our problems? It is staring at us: Work less and you get less stress.
But ask anyone around you if they would be willing to work fewer hours for less money – and sacrifice some luxuries such as opting for a less-than-ideal home or travelling less for holidays – and many would be reluctant to do so.
Just three months ago, a study by the Ministry of Social and Family Development showed that despite a rise in flexi-work arrangements, Singaporeans are not scoring well on the work-life balance scale – 63 out of 100 in 2012, which is more or less the same as the 64 score in 2006.
NOT YOUR AVERAGE SINGAPOREAN
But does earning less mean less happiness? I would argue “no” based on a similar experience I went through for a few years of my life recently.
First, I have to qualify that I am not the average Singaporean.
I come from a well-off background, educated overseas in the UK, and never lived in a government-built flat all my life.
Travelling overseas and eating at fancy restaurants is not uncommon.
I grew up in a 1,800sqm landed property and I had a more-than-decent paying professional job as a journalist.
Five or six years ago, I moved to a 69sqm three-room Housing Board (HDB) flat to live on my own and I quit my job to do freelance work.
I wanted to focus on pursuing music for a while and – like many young people in their mid- to late-20s – I did not have much money in the bank.
NEW EXPERIENCE
It was a culture shock for which I was not prepared.
Space is limited in a three-room HDB flat, so I had to be merciless about what I needed. Old clothes, unused furniture and appliances went to charity. I was left with minimal clothing, and my old desktop computer was my only form of entertainment.
Neighbours, in close proximity, were a new experience for me.
I had to get used to listening to their arguments, them dragging furniture around, banging who-knows-what with hammers. Weekends are filled with stay-in karaoke singers, Malay weddings and Chinese funeral bands making their existence known to all.
But it was the money that was hardest to deal.
Freelance work brought in a third of what I used to earn and payment was slow, so I would have to survive on as little as S$50 for the week.
My lifestyle changed. I stopped eating at fancy restaurants and instead of taking taxis, it was down to public transport. On occasion, I even had to live on just instant noodles.
I could have asked my parents for money and they offered, but there comes a point in everyone’s life where you just have to say “no” and learn to stand on your own two feet.
COMMUNITY LIVING
From having a good job, lots of “stuff” and money, I went to no job, minimal possessions, and rapidly declining levels of cash.
While it is clearly a downgrade for me, I was happier.
The new life situation was a pleasant novelty – the smell of my neighbour’s turmeric fried chicken wafting through the window, the laughter of children playing at the nearby childcare centre, and the comforting sight of a group of old women gathering every morning at the void deck to gossip.
I loved that I was able to walk out in my singlet, shorts and slippers to the nearest coffee shop in three minutes to buy a nasi lemak meal costing only S$2.50.
Also wonderful are the friendships. My next-door neighbour will always invite me for a buffet meal, because I let them use the corridor outside my flat to lay out the spread.
Another neighbour works at the nearby hawker centre, so he will give me one extra fishball whenever I patronise the stall.
The utility bills are cheaper every quarter of the year, and there is money through the Government’s progress package.
APPRECIATE THE SMALL THINGS
Yes, I sound like a spoilt rich boy who is experiencing HDB life for the first time in his life, but it is more than that.
You start to appreciate the smaller things in life, often taken for granted when you have many other competing distractions for your leisure time.
These include sitting at the void deck and enjoying the breeze on your face in a quiet moment, and silently appreciating every sip of kopi-o at the coffee shop and not gulping it down because you have to rush to work.
Good money and a big home may be nice, but after living without them, I realise they are not necessary.
Now the opposite happens. Too much food in the fridge and I get anxious, because I hate wasting food.
I get shocked when I visit other people’s homes and see how many things they have accumulated over the years – very often in boxes, forgotten and collecting dust.
I’m sure everyone knows that money doesn’t buy you happiness, but still we hear of people who have jobs they hate, to make money they have no time to spend, to buy things they don’t need, to impress people they don’t like.
Money brings with it more expectations in life and the belief that “more” will lead to happiness.
What is scarier is that most of us forget, or do not realise, that we already have all that we need to be happy in life.
The question is just whether you are brave enough to live it.
Singaporeans are miserable and “poor”. At least that is what the news and Facebook updates tell me.
Perhaps it is true, but I would argue that a lot of it is self-inflicted. Still, it can be hard to argue against the evidence.
Singapore is reportedly the sixth most expensive city in the world in which to live, and paying for things with our earnings that have not gone up much in light of inflation – isn’t making things easy.
We’re overworked, coping with greater stress levels, and packing ourselves in overcrowded trains that are just as temperamental as we are.
And we haven’t even begun to talk about what we have to pay to get a car, on roads that are already seeing more traffic jams.
The answer to our problems? It is staring at us: Work less and you get less stress.
But ask anyone around you if they would be willing to work fewer hours for less money – and sacrifice some luxuries such as opting for a less-than-ideal home or travelling less for holidays – and many would be reluctant to do so.
Just three months ago, a study by the Ministry of Social and Family Development showed that despite a rise in flexi-work arrangements, Singaporeans are not scoring well on the work-life balance scale – 63 out of 100 in 2012, which is more or less the same as the 64 score in 2006.
NOT YOUR AVERAGE SINGAPOREAN
But does earning less mean less happiness? I would argue “no” based on a similar experience I went through for a few years of my life recently.
First, I have to qualify that I am not the average Singaporean.
I come from a well-off background, educated overseas in the UK, and never lived in a government-built flat all my life.
Travelling overseas and eating at fancy restaurants is not uncommon.
I grew up in a 1,800sqm landed property and I had a more-than-decent paying professional job as a journalist.
Five or six years ago, I moved to a 69sqm three-room Housing Board (HDB) flat to live on my own and I quit my job to do freelance work.
I wanted to focus on pursuing music for a while and – like many young people in their mid- to late-20s – I did not have much money in the bank.
NEW EXPERIENCE
It was a culture shock for which I was not prepared.
Space is limited in a three-room HDB flat, so I had to be merciless about what I needed. Old clothes, unused furniture and appliances went to charity. I was left with minimal clothing, and my old desktop computer was my only form of entertainment.
Neighbours, in close proximity, were a new experience for me.
I had to get used to listening to their arguments, them dragging furniture around, banging who-knows-what with hammers. Weekends are filled with stay-in karaoke singers, Malay weddings and Chinese funeral bands making their existence known to all.
But it was the money that was hardest to deal.
Freelance work brought in a third of what I used to earn and payment was slow, so I would have to survive on as little as S$50 for the week.
My lifestyle changed. I stopped eating at fancy restaurants and instead of taking taxis, it was down to public transport. On occasion, I even had to live on just instant noodles.
I could have asked my parents for money and they offered, but there comes a point in everyone’s life where you just have to say “no” and learn to stand on your own two feet.
COMMUNITY LIVING
From having a good job, lots of “stuff” and money, I went to no job, minimal possessions, and rapidly declining levels of cash.
While it is clearly a downgrade for me, I was happier.
The new life situation was a pleasant novelty – the smell of my neighbour’s turmeric fried chicken wafting through the window, the laughter of children playing at the nearby childcare centre, and the comforting sight of a group of old women gathering every morning at the void deck to gossip.
I loved that I was able to walk out in my singlet, shorts and slippers to the nearest coffee shop in three minutes to buy a nasi lemak meal costing only S$2.50.
Also wonderful are the friendships. My next-door neighbour will always invite me for a buffet meal, because I let them use the corridor outside my flat to lay out the spread.
Another neighbour works at the nearby hawker centre, so he will give me one extra fishball whenever I patronise the stall.
The utility bills are cheaper every quarter of the year, and there is money through the Government’s progress package.
APPRECIATE THE SMALL THINGS
Yes, I sound like a spoilt rich boy who is experiencing HDB life for the first time in his life, but it is more than that.
You start to appreciate the smaller things in life, often taken for granted when you have many other competing distractions for your leisure time.
These include sitting at the void deck and enjoying the breeze on your face in a quiet moment, and silently appreciating every sip of kopi-o at the coffee shop and not gulping it down because you have to rush to work.
Good money and a big home may be nice, but after living without them, I realise they are not necessary.
Now the opposite happens. Too much food in the fridge and I get anxious, because I hate wasting food.
I get shocked when I visit other people’s homes and see how many things they have accumulated over the years – very often in boxes, forgotten and collecting dust.
I’m sure everyone knows that money doesn’t buy you happiness, but still we hear of people who have jobs they hate, to make money they have no time to spend, to buy things they don’t need, to impress people they don’t like.
Money brings with it more expectations in life and the belief that “more” will lead to happiness.
What is scarier is that most of us forget, or do not realise, that we already have all that we need to be happy in life.
The question is just whether you are brave enough to live it.
