Member-only story
The origin of happiness
Creating joy in a world of unicorns
We have never been further away from understanding where our consumption is born.
A Chinese woman meticulously sews tags onto countless stuffed unicorn toys in Lianyungang.
It’s a grueling, arduous task. Breaks are non existent and silent monotony is deafening to the soul.
She has a full, enriched life outside the air conditioned room where she toils each day. But that life is silenced now.
Endless hours spent creating toys for children she will never know, bringing happiness she will never see. Oddly serene, precise, unphased by the seemingly Sissyphean task.
She daydreams of a faraway place, of a different life. Believing in the impossible and revelling in the imaginary realm of her own consciousness, surrounded by pink unicorns.
We revel in the joy of purchasing a new toy for our loved ones but we should feel the seams more often. Each stitch is a silent sigh, a scar of unseen labour.
Perhaps we should reflect on the hours of invisible, unhappy labour that has gone into it.
Perhaps we should think of how our happiness is really created.
