Sometimes, at the end of a day where all the boxes are ticked – the walk, the meditation, the gratitude journal – a strangely empty feeling settles in. As if we had gathered all the ingredients for a good life, but forgotten to taste it. As if we had worked through a checklist for the soul, but the soul itself wasn't present.

For many, the attempt to manage their own well-being has become a project. We read self-help books, listen to podcasts, and follow routines that promise a more fulfilling life. The logic behind it is tempting: If we only follow the right steps, establish the right habits, surely happiness must eventually settle in. It becomes a destination on our mental map, a peak to be climbed.

But what if precisely this pursuit distances us from what we truly seek? What if happiness is more like a butterfly? If you chase it with a net, it flutters unpredictably away. But if you sit quietly in a meadow and devote your attention to the flowers, it might just happen that it settles on your shoulder all by itself.

A Life by Design

The idea that contentment is an achievable outcome, a reward for working on ourselves, transforms our inner life into a construction site where something constantly needs improvement. This way of thinking has a catch: It places us in the role of observers of our own lives. Instead of simply experiencing a moment, we evaluate it: Does this feel happy now? Is this already fulfillment? Shouldn't I be feeling more?

Psychologist Iris Mauss has researched this phenomenon. In several studies, she found a paradoxical correlation: The more people valued being happy, the less often they achieved this goal, and the more prone they were to disappointment. The constant pressure to produce a certain feeling diminishes the experience of positive moments. Those who frantically try to enjoy a beautiful celebration often miss the small, genuine moments of connection.

It's a bit like trying to intentionally fall asleep. The more you want it, the wider awake you become. The pursuit of happiness becomes a condition for a successful life, and thus the present often feels incomplete as long as the grand goal remains unattained.

The Side Roads of Well-being

If the direct path doesn't work, perhaps it's worth looking at the side roads. Research into a good life often distinguishes between two types of well-being. One is hedonic: the pursuit of joy, pleasure, and positive feelings. A good meal, a sunny day, a fun movie – all of these belong to it. It is important, but often fleeting.

The other is eudaimonic well-being. The term originates from ancient Greek philosophy and describes a sense of coherence, meaning, and connectedness. It doesn't necessarily arise in moments of pure joy, but often when we engage ourselves in something greater than ourselves. When we truly listen to a friend, immerse ourselves in a task that challenges us, or contribute something to the community.

These moments don't always feel "happy" in the sense of carefree. They can be strenuous, complicated, and even painful. A deep conversation about a loss. The effort to learn a new skill. Advocating for someone who is wronged. And yet, people report that precisely such experiences give their lives a depth and a steadfastness that the chase for the next moment of happiness cannot offer.

Perhaps the longest study on human life, the Harvard Study of Adult Development, has been following hundreds of people for over 80 years. Its central finding, repeatedly confirmed, is astonishingly simple: Good, reliable relationships are by far the strongest factor for long-term well-being and health. Not wealth, not career, not the perfected morning routine – but the quality of our connections to others.

Shifting Our Attention

Perhaps the key, then, lies not in getting something – happiness, fulfillment, peace – but in giving something: our attention, our time, our curiosity. Not constantly directing it towards ourselves and the question of how we feel, but towards the world around us. Towards the face of a person telling us something. Towards the pattern the sun casts through the leaves onto the pavement. Towards the sound of a familiar voice on the phone.

It's not about abandoning the pursuit of a better life. It's about questioning the definition of "better." Away from the idea of a perfect end state, towards a path that also knows detours, pauses, and difficult passages. Perhaps you know these small, unplanned moments that shine brightly in memory: the shared laughter over a silly joke, the unexpected kindness of a stranger, the feeling of coming home after a long day.

These things cannot be written on a to-do list. They cannot be ticked off. One can only keep the space open for them. Perhaps what we seek is not a destination at all, but a way of being on the journey.

Further Reading

  • Mauss, I. B., Tamir, M., Anderson, C. L., & Savino, N. S. (2011). Can seeking happiness make people unhappy? Paradoxical effects of valuing happiness. Emotion, 11(4), 807��815.
  • Waldinger, Robert & Schulz, Marc (2023). The Good Life: Lessons from the World's Longest Scientific Study of Happiness. Simon & Schuster.
  • Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. (For an insight into the original concept of Eudaimonia).

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