Chasing happiness can be like chasing a mirage. You think you're about to grasp it but then happiness changes its shape. Cognitive psychologist Daniel Kahneman explained this dichotomy with two selves: the experiencing self and the remembering self. The experiencing self feels joy in the moment; the remembering self looks back on our memory and decides how good or bad our experience was. Our two selves don't even agree on what brings us joy. How do we understand this thing we call happiness?
Most of us, at some point in our lives, have pivoted from one definition of happiness to another. Remember aiming for a dream career, only to be taken down by burnout? Or perhaps you achieved it and now look for the freedom to work when and how you want. The ever-changing nature of happiness makes it hard to define. It's deeply personal, and when you think you've grasped it, it fades away.
I’ve known for years that humans are wired to pursue fast dopamine over lasting happiness. Why, then, couldn’t I stop avoiding things I knew would make me happy—running in the park, even writing in my journal? Why couldn’t I get over the initial discomfort of lacing up, or putting away my phone and picking up my notebook?
For someone who is aware of such human psychology, I don’t know why I keep avoiding the things that seemed to be good for me. To better diagnose my own psychology, I began to make a list of tasks I had been avoiding:
Running in the park
Doing dance workouts
Making green smoothies
Meditating
Writing my journal
Was I self-sabotaging by procrastinating on these activities? I know these activities are good for me. Since I feel good after doing them, am I delaying the gratification of doing these activities? It’s hard to pinpoint why I have such resistance, but writing down these tasks in a to-do list format actually made me want to do them. It helped me realize that I was avoiding happiness, and that realization was enough to make me do things differently.
When we procrastinate, what we're often avoiding is the fear of facing ourselves. The task isn't just a task. The task mirrors our inner state—our fears, insecurities, and the chasms between our ideals and realities. When we write down what we avoid, the abstract thought suddenly takes a concrete form. Specificity demystifies what is scary, making it less overwhelming. It becomes an item on a list—manageable, finite, and, most importantly, actionable. We realize that we can do something about it.
The real magic happens when we confront discomfort—whether it is pain, fear, or some form of unease—head-on. When we take a deep breath and face these feelings, discomfort starts to crack open. Consider the world’s number one phobia: public speaking. I used to get stage fright and would turn down all public speaking opportunities. I wanted to confront my fear, so I signed up for stand-up comedy lessons. Since I was so nervous, I didn’t have to try to make a fool of myself, which turned out to be perfect for open mics. Each time I showed up for open mics, the essence of fear began to change. Initially, I might stumble over words or forget my lines. Once I practiced enough times and conquered that hurdle, I struggled with how to pace or land my jokes. I peeled away the layers of fear with each shaky breath. After enough repetitions (or just getting too tired of getting nervous), I eventually discovered a curious, nervous energy that not only fueled my performance but made me feel alive.
Acknowledging discomforts, instead of amplifying them through avoidance, shifts their very essence. What once paralyzed us became catalysts for growth. The alchemy is tangible, emotional, and magical. Now, they're not just obstacles; they're stepping stones, paving the path toward the happiness we've been pursuing.
After making that list of avoided tasks, I decided to commit to one of them. The next day, I carved out 30 minutes to run in the park on my calendar. Instead of seeing it as merely self-care, I treat it as an important appointment with myself. Though I had some doubts about whether the run would be a good use of my time on the short 3-minute drive, the concerns faded away the moment I arrived at the park. My focus shifted to the kids playing football, dogs catching frisbee, and the breeze brushing through the trees. The quick stroll filled me with a sense of inner peace. By the time I got back to work, I felt focused and clear-minded in a way I hadn’t in a long time. It was a great use of time.
At that moment, I understood the magic of leaning into avoidance. What I had avoided for so long brought me joy once I pushed past the initial resistance. It wasn’t just checking off an item on my to-do list. It was me, finally being honest with myself and taking steps to nurture my soul. Now, when I run through the park, it is no longer something I force myself to do. It is slowly becoming a habit.
By facing the discomfort, we don't just make them real; we make our potential for happiness real as well. Happiness does not come from what we achieve but from who we dare to be. When we peel back the external layers and allow our inner light to shine, happiness unfolds on its own. There is pain, there is fear, but through it all, joy awaits us when we find the courage to look within.
Great essay Charlene! I especially loved this: “The task isn't just a task. The task mirrors our inner state—our fears, insecurities, and the chasms between our ideals and realities.” Such a powerful observation that’s often so easy to forget.