Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho: What People With Disabilities Taught Me About Happiness
We all live in a yellow submarine
“Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, It’s home from work we go,” sang the seven dwarfs as they bounced along in single file, pickaxes over their shoulders. (To recall the scene from the movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and enjoy their cheerful song, click the link.)
I hadn’t thought of that scene in years — until I saw it re-created before my eyes. Here there were only five people, walking, single-file, up from the bus stop at the bottom of the hill. They were singing a Beatles’ song every bit as lustily as those seven dwarfs, as they ambled up the sidewalk across the street from my new home.
“We all live in a Yellow Submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine,” my new neighbours sang, repeating that same lyric, over and over. When they reached the driveway across from mine, they turned and disappeared inside that house.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to register what I’d just seen. Young adults. Mostly short. Carrying lunch bags. Coming home from work, singing cheerfully, looking happy. You don’t see that every day.
“Yellow Submarine” life versus my life
I soon learned that my new neighbours were adults with Down Syndrome or other disabling challenges, living in a group home setting. A social worker would arrive to oversee their evening meal preparation and activities, and stay for the night. Presumably, the following morning, “heigh-ho, heigh-ho, off to work” they’d go.
Work, in this case, turned out to be a workshop for people with developmental disabilities. Depending on the day, their tasks might involve ripping labels off cans or breaking down cardboard boxes to allow for recycling.
My life back then looked very different from theirs. As a busy young mother working a stressful job while adapting to a second marriage, there never seemed to be an extra minute. I’m sorry to say, I never made the time to get to know my new neighbours. I’d give a smile and a wave as they made their way up the street. It was cheerfully returned. Then we went our separate ways.
Happy is as happy does
More than 30 years have passed and I now live thousands of miles away. But the other day I heard the song “Yellow Submarine” playing on the radio, and I couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Despite their life challenges, those young adults radiated happiness as they trekked home from their workday, belting out simple song lyrics.
Those of us who’ve inherited far fewer life challenges often spend our days “stressed out.” We obsess over small stuff that matters very little. We fret over big stuff (e.g., environmental issues, pandemics, inflation) — things that matter a lot, but about which, as individuals, we can do very little. Despite the many gifts we’ve received in “life’s lottery,” our mental health declines.
As an external observer, I can’t presume to know whether those particular young people were always happy. I also don’t want to suggest that life in a group home, or employment in a sheltered workshop, is the best option for people with developmental or other challenges. Modern “integrative” approaches likely serve them, and society, better.
But I do know what happiness looks like, when I see it. It looks like giving your full focus to something (like a simple song lyric), giving it all you’ve got (doing that “something” with joyous abandon), and doing it in the company of community.
We all live in a yellow submarine, after all. Whether it’s our household, our workplace, or our planet, we’re all journeying in close quarters with others. The “happiness” life lesson my neighbours taught me is simple: Live in the moment — and give it all you’ve got.
You might also enjoy reading Sally Prag’s reflection on perspective. I did.
If you enjoyed this article, please use my affiliate link to become a Medium member today. You’ll get unlimited access to everything I write, plus everything else on Medium. I’ll receive a portion of your $5 monthly subscription fee at no additional cost to you.
For more of my own musings on how to get happier, take a peek at this:
If you just need a giggle, enjoy these funny obituaries: