What brings her happiness? Challenges are great, but joy is in discovery, adventure

A friend and I were discussing goals and satisfaction, and each of us wrote a list of what makes us happy. My friend — who runs at life, embracing elite goals with determination and gusto — wrote a very short list with just a few non-negotiables. My list was long, full of hypothetical thoughts, fleeting moods, processes and open-ended premises, all of which usually bring me a sense of satisfaction.

My friend’s list regarded happiness as a destination, the basic meeting of needs, whereas mine read like a poorly planned road trip. I secretly felt my list was superior, a blueprint informed by a strategy I’ve developed and maybe even perfected over the decades. I’d learned to relentlessly pursue enjoyment in every bit of my life, seeking silver linings and unexpected surprises. My friend thought otherwise.

“Cut out the fluff,” my friend suggested. “There’s too much on there.”

I explained that any of it could be cut on a whim. Everything on my happiness wish list is penciled in, and I keep my eraser handy. I negotiate my happiness with the universe. My criteria is not predetermined. I simply look for ways to be happy within the paths available to me. And if I realize that a goal or aspiration is unattainable, I erase it from the list and focus on something else.

“So you settle,” my friend said. “You’re passive and just go with the flow and don’t worry about what you want.”

Ouch. My proven strategy for unlocking the secrets of happiness lost its luster when reframed as embracing being a quitter.

The comments were valid. My friend had peeked behind the curtains of my contentment and uncovered an untended pile of low expectations, abandoned goals and a meandering path with no clear destination.

I did the thing I do when someone — someone who I know has the best of intentions and only my well-being in mind — challenges a position I hold. I examined my perspective.

Reevaluating my perceived state of contentment was not without risk. I recognized going in that my Pollyanna attitude is at times my life vest. It’s the keel that keeps me upright when life gets dicey. It’s the almost imperceptible (possibly imaginary) breeze that helps me tolerate stagnation.

But I owed it to myself to entertain the question: Am I really happy?

I first thought about the things I’ve culled from my list over the years. I have, indeed, cut many lofty goals, many of which might have brought me immense satisfaction. Mastery of arts and skills, high expectations for my relationships, and anything that could be paired with the words “picture perfect” (i.e., home, body, meals…) have been eliminated. This was not a great start.

I returned to the list of things that make me happy. None is particularly difficult, and most are non-specific, such as knowing I’ve helped someone, finding a quirk that makes someone unique and special, relishing small successes or appreciating things that contribute to my confidence.

I realized that I’ve cut expectations for some, and erased others completely from my list. Of course it makes me happy when someone does something for me or appreciates me for one reason or another. But life has shown me that other people will invariably let me down. And so I have cut other peoples’ actions and attitudes almost completely from my list. As long as someone isn’t actively making me unhappy, they’re OK by me.

When I dug deeper, I realized that letting go of the desire to be pleased by other people opened up a new me. I’m no longer a people-pleaser. I hold myself to a set of personal standards, and if those standards aren’t good enough for someone — well, too bad.

My friend’s point holds up. Challenges, goals and aspirations are all healthy parts of a solid happiness strategy. But my perspective still holds strong as well.

I’ve accomplished enough challenges and done enough hard things to know that, yes, those successes contribute to how I view the enjoyability of my life, but so do the journey, the discovery and the adventure.

Emily Parnell can be reached at emily@emilyjparnell.com.