The Simplicity of Happiness

Too often I find people so fixated on the notion that in order to experience true elation and fulfilment, one must constantly endeavour to become situated in circumstances that entail the standard definition of thrill. Moments, though not to be discouraged, such as festivals, holidays and the like, are occurrences that take place a select number of times a year. Make no mistake, moments like these are what we predominantly reminisce on in the near future with fondness, and rightfully so. A fortnight basking in the Mediterranean sun with loved ones or the eager anticipation felt as your beloved football team, consisting of nigh demigods, flood the pitch to then enthral you for the next 90 minutes, can etch indelible impressions into any sentient being. What then makes this, in my opinion anyway, the least efficient means of attaining true happiness?

It is because these instances detract attention and focus from all the other day to day facets of one’s life. Generic small talk, to which most are now accustomed to by the tender age of twenty, initially tends to consist of the questions how’s life been or what have you been up to. These are then predictably followed by responses citing all the notable events and festivities one has recently attended. This subsequently reinforces the belief that happiness can only truly be procured via these means that occupy a paltry proportion of one’s life. Consequently, the implication of this suggests that the remaining days of the year are spent in an almost dormant, inert disposition, constantly yearning for the next substantial injection of stimulation. That the average day is simply a means to an end, and can easily be discarded when really it should be cherished.

The point I’m attempting to convey is often only comprehended and acted on after incurring loss. The loss of something or someone that actually made those monotonous, dreary days far more bearable than you could have possibly imagined. It is once these daily recurrences no longer recur that one begins to realise that what constitutes as a normal day is far from it. There is then a sense of guilt felt after the realisation that you have seemingly failed to truly appreciate the normalities of life and have for the most part wasted substantial amounts of time feeling supine rather than sublime.

Written by Dylan Matthews



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