The dawning of a new year! Aside from a good opportunity to throw a great party, it’s a good opportunity to press the “restart” button (more on this in my next post), and at least make an attempt to do some things better, or differently, in the future, than we did in the past.
Resolutions are easy, of course. Actual change is far more difficult. But keeping certain ideas or perspectives in mind can help as we try to retrain our bodies or minds to a new pattern. So in that spirit, I encourage anyone reading this to take the time to read an essay published in The New York Times last summer about what we ought to be pursuing, if we really want to be happy. The essay was written by Arthur C. Brooks–a man whose writing and conclusions I often have issues with, because of how he selects data to support his points, among other things. However, I thought this essay steered clear of that. (Evidence that common ground can be found even with people who don’t necessarily share other pieces of our beliefs or worldviews, or even writing approaches.) This particular essay delved instead, like the economist Daniel Kahneman did in his book Stumbling Upon Happiness, into the gap between what we think will make us happy, and what actually does.
I often write about the link between being “in the moment” and feeling really alive. And how one of the reasons 3-year-olds can exhibit such glee is because they are not yet burdened, in most cases, with worry about the future. They can be happy because they’re not striving for status, power, fame or bank accounts. Three year olds live in themselves, in the present. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that all the striving we adults do … even the striving for happiness, and the things we think will make us so … often keeps us from actually being happy, in the moment we’re in at any given time.
I think, sometimes, that part of the problem is our fantasy expectation that it’s possible to feel “happy” all the time. We imagine that if only we lived in Hawaii, or were really rich, or were married to George Clooney or Gisele Bundchen, we’d be “there.” Happy all the time. That’s not realistic. My mom once sent me an article reporting that shallow people actually got closer to that Nirvana than people who thought deeply about things, because the less you worry about anything, the “happier” you will be. To which I would say, that depends on how you define happy. If you define it as “untroubled,” that’s probably true. But leading a life that never delves beneath the surface is also less likely to give you have a life rich in meaning and purpose, which–as I discussed in my last two posts–is important for happiness, as well. There’s a difference between pleasure and happiness, and hedonistic happiness and eudemonic happiness–which is to say, working to feed the homeless might not be as fun as lying on a beach drinking margaritas, but it might give you a longer-lasting sense of satisfaction and life meaning. Ditto for having kids.
In any event, one of the points Brooks makes is that we all are pretty much hard-wired to be some combination of happy and unhappy. That’s life. The trick is to try to get the happy to outweigh the unhappy. How do you do that? One of the basic keys is to pursue what psychologists call “intrinsic” rewards instead of “extrinsic” rewards. Intrinsic rewards tend to be private: a sense of purpose or meaning, deep and rewarding relationships with spouse, children, friends and community, a sense of balance, or a sense of fulfillment. Extrinsic rewards are those bestowed on us by the outside world: money, fame, status, power. If extrinsic rewards make us more unhappy, it’s largely because they’re often out of our control (see previous post on the importance of a sense of control over your life to a sense of well-being), and they can be taken away at any point. No wonder striving for them makes us insecure!
Another problem with striving for extrinsic rewards is that they’re also almost inescapably comparative rewards. They leave us comparing ourselves to others, instead of judging ourselves against our own internal sense of satisfaction. Brooks notes, and I agree, that the proliferation of social media make it harder to escape this constant “someone else has a better life than I do” unhappiness-creator. But even back in 1990, when I began my freelance writing career, my boyfriend at the time finally forbid me to read my college alumni magazine, because it was so intimidating to see others climbing the corporate ladder I’d just abandoned. I was happy, until I read about others’ achievements. I finally had to put a sign saying “Success is Being Happy” above my computer, just to try to keep my perspective intact. Even today, if I really monitor myself, I find that I’m most stressed when I give in to worry about “external” success or achievement as a writer (Will the world print and like what I write? Will I make money at it? How do I compare with New York Times bestselling writers?) If I let go of that and say, simply, “Do I believe in what I’m doing? Am I happy doing it? – the answer is always, “yes.”
Some concern with making money does matter, of course. There’s a very real correlation between a certain level of economic security and happiness – but the bar for that is pretty low. It has to do with need, not want. That new Mercedes, as beautiful as it is, is unlikely to make us happy, if we’re not happy with how we’re spending our days.
Brooks also argues, in his essay, that even pleasure doesn’t make us as happy as we might think. Turns out, at least according to two economists Brooks quoted but didn’t name, that the ideal number of sexual partners, in terms of an individual’s happiness, is … one. I can’t promise that’s true for everyone, but it’s an interesting study result, anyway.
But the real point to contemplate, as we all begin a new year of hopes, stresses, victories and disappointments, is that all that external stuff we strive for and worry about … is the stuff of stress, not happiness. If I became a best-selling author with one of my books, it would be cool, but it wouldn’t make me happy, if I wasn’t happy anyway. And wasting the precious time I have with my family, and my work, worrying about hitting that goal is a bad formula, if I want to be that happy, grounded person.
In short, the pursuit of “stuff”–and included in that are the stuff of fame, wealth, power and status–is a formula for unhappiness, not happiness. Stop worrying about where you are on the ladder, or what anyone else thinks of you, or any other external rewards, and ask yourself instead if you’re happy, right now, with what you hold in your hand. Do what you love. Care about getting it right, for the pride and love of getting something right, and doing something that matters, and worry less about the external rewards that surround it. As Brooks said, “instead of loving stuff and using people, love people and use stuff.”
That might sound impractical in today’s competitive economic world. But I would argue that a team of people with a clear sense of mission and purpose, who are pursuing quality in what they’re doing for the pride and love of getting it right, with a feeling of responsibility to each other and the global community at large, are a formidable force with which to contend. In changing the world, or in changing the bottom line.
They’re also far more likely to spend more time feeling happy, with sense of satisfaction and well-being about their lives.
