Happiness does not come from wealth or success

I grew up as a small boy in England, living in a caravan in the Oxfordshire countryside. By modern standards, many would assume this was a deprived childhood. There was no running water, no electricity, no indoor toilet or shower and the space was cramped, shared with my mother, sisters and brother.
To many people today, such a life might seem unacceptable. Yet that judgement often reflects their own biases and upbringing rather than the lived reality of the child. We collected water from a public tap shared by dozens of other caravan families and used communal outdoor toilets. We, children, bathed one after the other in a long metal container with tepid water heated by the use of a gas bottle - our only source of power.
There was no television, no telephone and none of the digital distractions that now dominate daily life. I had no awareness of global anxieties or too rapid AI or technological developments. Instead, my world revolved around friends from neighbouring caravans, walking to school together, laughing and enjoying free school meals. Evenings and weekends were spent wandering the surrounding fields and woods with my small dog.
Nature became my classroom. I learned to recognise birds, collected newts, snakes and lizards and felt a freedom that is rare today. My mother worked as a cleaner and money was always tight, but I never felt deprived. We ate vegetables grown in our garden and eggs from our chickens. Fast food did not exist for us and happiness was not something to be bought. My clothes were hand‑me‑downs or carefully repaired, made to last rather than impress. Those years were, without question, the happiest of my life. Much of what followed was less so. I came to believe that material success would bring fulfilment: large houses, fine food, expensive cars and worldly success. That belief shaped many of my choices and, in hindsight, it was a mistake.
Today I live a comfortable life. I have a wonderful Omani wife and children of whom I am immensely proud. Because of my success in business, my children never experienced the hardships I did. They attended private schools, grew up in comfortable homes in England and speak with accents far removed from my working‑class roots. Guided largely by their mother’s values and faith, which I also embraced, they are kind, compassionate people. They belong to both England and Oman and are close to family in each. They spend time in Oman regularly and recognise, as I do, that it is one of the friendliest and most civilised places in the world in terms of how people treat one another.
If I have passed anything meaningful on to them, I hope it is the understanding that money can be a useful servant but a poor master. Happiness, in my experience, does not come from the pursuit of wealth or what is commonly called success. Not having to worry about money can certainly enhance life, especially later on. It brings security, comfort and access to good healthcare. But it should never be mistaken for the basis of lasting happiness. The endless pursuit of wealth is far more likely to leave you restless and dissatisfied. True contentment comes from good health, strong family relationships and friendships built on mutual support.
One of the greatest and most overlooked sources of happiness is kindness itself. Being compassionate towards others has a profound effect on your own sense of peace. When I travel into the interior of Oman and meet families living simpler, less materialistic lives, I see this clearly. They have chosen not to join the modern rat race and they appear happier because of it.