What is Happiness?
Zhuang Zhou once wrote:
“Happiness is the absence of the striving for happiness.”
Maybe read it again and take a beat.
There's something almost cruel about this one, isn’t there? You read it and feel a sense of recognition, then immediately notice you're trying to figure out how to use it – how to apply it, even. How to get happier by understanding it? Juicy, that is. The irony catches you mid-stride.
Zhuang Zhou was a Taoist philosopher writing in fourth-century BC China, and this line is essentially the entire Taoist project compressed into nine words. Which is really impressive. The Tao – the way of things – moves effortlessly. Ducks don't try to be good swimmers. Rivers don't strain towards the sea. Everything that’s in harmony with itself simply moves. It simply is. It's humans, with our extraordinary capacity for self-reflection, who managed to turn even joy into a full-on performance review.
What the man’s pointing at is a particular flavour of suffering that might actually be more common now than it was in his era: the suffering of someone who has everything materially fine and is still not happy, and is disturbed by that, and is trying to solve the disturbance, and is reading another book about it, listening to another podcast, booking another retreat (preferably with us).
The pursuit itself becomes the problem. Can you hear that? And it’s not because self-improvement is stupid, but because underneath a lot of it is a quiet, grinding message to yourself: I am not enough as I currently am. And you can't think your way out of a belief that's held beneath thought. You can’t think your way out of thoughts, come to think of it. ;)
There's also something here about modern life specifically. We live in an attention economy that profits from your dissatisfaction. Every algorithm is optimised to remind you of what you don't have, what you haven't achieved, who you haven't become yet. The comparison trap is psychological, while contentment is commercially useless. A person at peace buys less. So in a very real sense, Zhuang Zhou's observation goes way beyond philosophy; it’s a form of resistance.
How it applies today
The wellness industry is a $5 trillion enterprise built, in significant part, on the experience of not being well enough. Which isn't entirely cynical; some of it is actually useful. But there's a real question worth sitting with: when you reach for a breathwork session, a meditation app, a cold plunge, a coaching call (preferably with us), are you doing it from a place of genuine curiosity and care for yourself, or from a low-level anxiety that you're failing to be optimised? The former is undoubtedly nourishing. The latter is just a different flavour of the same restlessness, wearing wellness as a costume.
Reflective questions for you to play with
These are meant to be sat with rather than answered quickly:
What would you do today if you weren't trying to become a better version of yourself? Not as a permanent state; just today. What would that look like?
When you imagine yourself as finally happy, what does that person have that you currently lack? Is it a feeling? A circumstance? A level of peace? And is there any version of that available to you right now, even partially?
Where in your life have you arrived somewhere you once desperately desired to reach – and felt the goalpost move almost immediately? What does that pattern tell you about the mechanism itself?
What's the difference, for you, between working towards something because you love it and working towards something because you're uncomfortable with where you are? Can you feel the distinction in your body?
If striving for happiness is itself the obstacle, what would it mean to stop? Not to give up, but to stop striving? What's the fear underneath that?
A possible practice
Spend one day this week with no self-improvement agenda. No podcasts about growth, no journalling prompts about your highest self, no tracking of anything. Not forever; just one day. Notice what comes up in the space. Notice whether "doing nothing" for your development feels like rest or feels like falling behind. That feeling is the data. That's where Zhuang Zhou is pointing.
Free Guided Meditation: Letting Go
I went out to the woods this week with my field recorder and made something I'd like to give you: a guided meditation on letting go, which feels like the natural companion to everything Zhuang Zhou just handed us. It's free, it's yours. Hit the button below.
Share it with at least one person you think might enjoy it.
- Martin, Founder
