How to Retire Without Money
WHY YOU SHOULD CONSIDER RETIREMENT (page 4)
The best manner in which a man or woman can serve the society to which they belong is to be happy and at peace with themselves. You cannot make others happy unless you yourself have achieved happiness. The persons who are best suited to making this a better world are those who have achieved serenity and peace of mind.CASE HISTORY No. 1. Perhaps the happiest person this writer has ever met was Harvey White who died a few years ago in Woodstock, New York. There must have been literally hundreds of artists, writers, composers, musicians, actors and other artists who mourned his going, not to speak of hundreds of the less talented whose lives he had affected. Harvey never had a great deal of money but he had achieved a way of life that contented him and he managed to spread his good will to almost everyone with whom he came in contact.
While still a young man he bought up a tract of several hundred acres of cheap land in the Maverick section of what was later to become the artist colony of Woodstock in the Catskill Mountains. Friends bought other sections and practicing artists and students were invited to enjoy the advantages of this bargain paradise. And at that time, bargain paradise Woodstock was although located only a hundred miles north of New York City.
As time went by, Harvey White added small cabins to his property, usually building them himself or with the aid of local friends. He built a simple summer theatre too, and a concert theatre. Remember, he had little money but lots of friends. And what money his various projects did bring in, went to increase the size of his little colony, not into some of the unnecessities of life. Harvey never bothered, for instance, even to bring plumbing into his own cottage.
When I met him, I was a boy in my late teens. He taught me to print on the little press he used to put out a literary weekly and to do up programs for his concert theatre and little play house. He also taught me the value of serenity and that the most important thing in life was to enjoy it to the utmost and to try and bring enjoyment to those about us.
Harvey was interested in people who were interested in things. He didn't care what it was, but if you burned with interest in one of the arts, or politics (any shade would do, although Harvey wasn't particularly interested himself), or science, or whatever, Harvey respected you. If an artist was broke, but really working at his art, Harvey would "rent" him a cabin. Rents were ridiculously low, but somehow Harvey never got around to collecting it unless you had just sold a painting or something. Often, indeed, when he knew one of his tenants was up against it he'd drop around causally with a basket of groceries, or perhaps a cash loan.
But the thing that will stick in my mind forever was one time when I went over to his place, my mind beset by my teenage troubles, and, of course, troubles at that age are just as real as those later in life. Harvey, who looked something like Walt Whitman, was stretched out on the ground in his front yard, his head propped against a fallen log. It was a beautiful mid-summer day and he was enjoying the sun. A chipmunk played about him. He said easily, "Hi, Bob. Stretch out."
So I stretched out, immediately relaxing in his relaxing presence. Without a word being spoken, already my troubles were the less. Finally he said, "How are things going?" And I thought about that for awhile and finally I said, "All right, I guess." So we went back to silence and contemplation of a beautiful sunny day.
Just then a flashy car approached and stopped in front of the house. It was a monstrously big thing. Out of it stepped a young man dressed in the latest and the loudest of Hollywood type apparel. From Harris tweed sport jacket to custom made suede shoes, he was the most. Harvey looked up and said interestedly, "Hi, Jimmy. Haven't seen you for a long time. Stretch out."
Jimmy looked at the ground worriedly, then took out a hanky and dusted off the tree stump before sitting on it. Harvey said, "It's fine to see you again, Jimmy. Where've you been?"
Jimmy said hesitantly, "Well, I've been out on the West Coast."
"Oh? Getting any composing done? How's that opera of yours going?"
Jimmy said, "Well, no. I have a job with Paramount, Harvey. Doing arrangements for musical comedies, that sort of thing." With real distress in his voice now, Harvey came to one elbow and said, "Golly, Jimmy, you don't have to do that. You can always come back here. I can always find one of my cabins for you!"
This is typical of Harvey White. He just couldn't imagine anybody wanting to get into the Hollywood rat-race.
I would estimate that hundreds of the American painters, writers and other artists who have achieved success in the United States today have been influenced to a greater or lesser extent by this man. He himself had achieved peace of mind, serenity and happiness in his own way, and in achieving it for himself couldn't help but spread it to others. Not only was Harvey White the happiest man I've ever met but probably the one with the most goodness in his heart..
I don't contend that everyone could, or even should, try to live life the way Harvey White did. Each must work out his own way of life. But Harvey is certain proof to me that the good life can be led without being part and parcel of today's rat-race.