There’s a widely accepted idea - particularly within Western culture - that happiness is something we’re supposed to chase. An end goal. A destination. A final state of being that, once reached, will bring lasting contentment. I’ve definitely bought into that. I’ve spent time chasing happiness, forcing positivity, and trying to “get there” - picking up self-care books, colouring books, positive affirmations… all in the hope that something might finally make me feel consistently happy. As if happiness was something I could achieve and hold onto.
But over time, something started to shift. I began to notice that my emotions - happiness, sadness, anger - weren’t things to fix, chase, or avoid. They were simply… there. Valid, yes. But also neutral. And, more than anything, fleeting. Which is slightly uncomfortable to admit, but also strangely freeing: maybe emotions really are a “journey, not a destination”.
So if happiness isn’t something we can hold onto indefinitely… what are we actually chasing - and at what cost?
I invite you to sit with a ‘simple’ question: Am I happy… yet?
How easy was that for you to answer? Honestly, I found it really bloody hard.
That little word - “yet” - carries quite a lot of weight. It suggests that happiness is something we’re working towards. An end goal. A destination we’ll eventually arrive at. As if one day, we’ll finally reach it… and be able to stay there. But is that actually how it works? And then there’s the word “happy” itself. What does it even mean? Why does it feel so difficult to define, let alone achieve?
I don’t have a definitive answer, but I have spent a lot of time sitting with this question. And the conclusion I keep coming back to is this: Happiness is not something we arrive at and stay within. It isn’t a permanent state. It’s fleeting.
Happiness exists in moments - brief, often unnoticed flashes of something lighter. A laugh that catches you off guard. A sense of calm that settles in for a moment. A connection that feels easy. Small, ordinary moments that feel… good. The diamonds in the rough.
So if happiness is fleeting by nature, what happens when we spend our lives chasing it as if it’s something permanent? Something measurable? Something we’re supposed to reach and maintain?
For many of us, it leads to something quite different: comparison, pressure, disappointment, and a quiet sense that we’re somehow falling short. Especially when we measure our “level of happiness” against what we see around us - particularly through social media.
The more we chase happiness as a constant state, the more it seems to slip further away.
So what if we’re looking at this the wrong way?
What if happiness isn’t something we achieve, but something we notice?
Because those fleeting moments matter. And when we allow ourselves to recognise them - really pause and acknowledge them - something shifts.
Happiness can exist not just in the moment itself, but in the reflection afterwards. The quiet gratitude that comes from looking back and realising: “That mattered.”
Maybe instead of chasing a lifelong state of happiness, we learn to recognise and appreciate the moments that already exist. We notice them, we allow them and we remember them. And when we begin to notice these moments more often, we begin to feel them more deeply. THIS is happiness. Not constant. Not perfect. Not permanent. But real.
And maybe that changes the goal entirely. Maybe instead of chasing a lifelong state of happiness, we begin to build a different kind of relationship with it.
Maybe happiness was never something we were meant to arrive at… but something we were always moving through.
In a world that tells us to strive for more, to be more, to do more, this can feel counterintuitive. But there is something deeply grounding about stepping out of that constant pursuit - not to stop growing or moving forward, but to stop believing that happiness lives somewhere “over there”.
Because perhaps it doesn’t. Perhaps it’s already here - just in smaller, quieter forms than we were expecting.
At Chambers of Change, this is part of what underpins the work I offer. Not to chase constant happiness, but to create space. Space to explore the full human experience - the sadness, the anger, the anxiety, and the moments of joy that exist alongside them. I don’t aim to be clinical or distant. I aim to be human. To connect with other humans. To offer you a space where you can go at your own pace, making sense of your experiences and learning to notice what’s already there.
Because maybe happiness was never something we were meant to arrive at… but something we were always moving through.
And if this feels difficult to do alone, this is exactly the kind of space I aim to offer - somewhere you can slow down, explore your experience, and begin to notice what’s already there.
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