On Happiness

There are 4 stages to happiness: have, become, do and be. Each stage is, I would say, more profound than the previous one; others would say "woo-woo" instead of "profound". You can think of it like 4 concentric circles, with "have" being the biggest one and "be" the smallest. In my mind, the size of each circle represents the number of people who embody that mindset.

Have

I need to have X in order to be happy.

It's simple to see past this stage. After all, even Andrew Tate, the monk who never intends to sell his Ferraris, has been quoted as saying "Having things isn't fun, getting things is fun". As fun as acquiring expensive things is, the shiny object syndrome wears off and you're left feeling deflated; your Ferrari offers little consolation.

Become

I need to become X in order to be happy.

In this stage, it is no longer material possessions that you long for, but rather someone else's identity. "Become" is where the self-improvement junkies hang out. Expectedly, it's also where the self-improvement creators make money. They sell you on a course that's "not for the weak", and yet it's precisely the weak and vulnerable who seek happiness there, among the popular wealthy people who seem to have it figured out.

The truth is, you don't want their life. If you wanted more money, you wouldn't need someone to tell you to work hard in order to make money. You would simply do it on your own. Not wanting more money is also ok. The same logic applies to other superficial things, thus dissolving the illusion that becoming X will make you happy.

Do

I need to do X in order to be happy.

"Do" = "Have" in the guise of a successful person. This is the first stage where the locus of control shifts from being outside of you to being inside you, which is a significant step forward from the previous stages.

However, the aforementioned shift comes with a downside. You see, the archetype doer is the Type A top performer at work. On the surface, such people seem fine and in control. One might say they're "good under pressure" or "enjoy taking on additional responsibilites". 

Often, though, they're compensating for their insecurities by voluntarily working overtime, which leads to burnout. Trust me - I've been there.

Leveling up at a skill feels good. I still recall the latter stages of the Dunning-Kruger curve kicking in and the mellow dopamine release that followed for weeks on end. What was particularly enjoyable was how in control I felt. Whether it was being on top of various projects at work and repeatedly receiving high praise or crushing it at the gym, hubris was the common theme.

Hubris pushed me to my limits - and beyond. It led me to burnout at work and injury at the gym. Upon hitting those walls, I started questioning things, which has led me to a much happier life.

The "Become" and "Do" phases are the self-improvement phases. Self-improvement is about eating cleaner, doing all of Andrew Huberman's rituals, minimizing distractions, grinding at work etc. That way, your life is, ostensibly, very fulfilled. How is it, then, that you can still feel unfulfilled on the inside? That's where the "Be" stage and a concept called shadow work come in.

Be

I am happy.

If you're a self-improvement addict - welcome to rehab. If there's nothing left to improve, how could one ever be happy?

Let me introduce you to shadow work, which shifts the focus from doing and achieving over to accepting. You can't change your shadow; you can only accept it. I see shadow work as learning to live with (and love) your shadow. The motto of shadow work, which only takes place inside you, is "you are enough as you are". You don't need add-ons to become a better version of yourself.

Shadow work has made me: happier, more chill, more tolerant of other people's shortcomings, easier on myself when I make mistakes, less anxious. It's also helped me weed out the things I don't like doing. Suddenly, saying "no" to things has become much easier.

There is one commonality between self-improvement and shadow work - going out of your comfort zone. For the self-improvement junkies, not maxxing out at something implies regressing. From the benefits of shadow work listed in the previous paragraph, I would certainly say I've progressed rather than regressed over the last couple of years. 

As any other comfort zone, self-improvement gets cozy with time. Leaving it for a concept as elusive as shadow work is difficult. Realizing that I don't need to self-improve in order to be happy, respected or loved has been one of the most gratifying epiphanies of my life.

How do you accept yourself as you truly are? 

1. Start by realizing that "being yourself" isn't necessarily a state, but rather a continuous action that happens throughout your life. As such, whatever it is that you need to accept is subject to change - and that's ok. 
2. Next, accepting yourself doesn't mean you stop wishing for things or doing stuff. It just means the motive changes. You don't do stuff to be happy, but rather to be closer to your true self. That difference, albeit seemingly small, is paramount.

On this journey, you will find it difficult to break old ties, act courageously when fear strikes and step off the well-trodden path when your gut tells you to. That is to be expected. Happiness is worth crying for. Go live a life worth dying for.

Relationships are Like Sex

There is a high that arises from copulating with someone for the first time - the fish scale-like goosebumps on their ribs, the taste of their sweat, the smell of their breath... Temporarily, the two of you melt into a pair of moans synced up in a restless exposé of alluring vulnerability; the squeaky bed plays crescendo as moaning turns into screaming turns into gasping turns into panting, which dissolves into silence. During the blissful post-coital cuddle, you absently gaze at the curtain's theatre of shadows. The somnolent summer sun holds promises of new beginnings.

Only, you've been here before. You might not remember it now, not with all the hormones echoing "Success!" throughout your body. On subsequent pheromone exchanges, however, much like driving, having sex with the same person will switch from System 2 to System 1 thinking: from the stiffness of the gearshift to the wear-and-tear of the brake pads - it will all become habitually familiar.

That's understandable, but for some reason it doesn't feel right. Every day, nature begs me to chase novel sex, to which I don't comply, even though undressing a girl for the first time surely releases the same set of hormones that winning the lottery does. With the same person, the sensation wanes in intensity over time. It's as if we have evolved to chase novelty.

Relationships also possess a novelty factor, which wears off in subtler ways; perhaps a joke stops being as funny, a previously-loved nickname lands surprisingly flat or we convince ourselves the other persons's pile of IOUs is ever so slightly bigger. I hate that every relationship comes with batteries. On top of that, their capacity diminishes every time they're recharged. The corollary strikes me as depressingly obvious; for that reason, I shall omit it.

Just like on earlier occasions, there is a compulsion to fix my relationship. For the first time, I wonder if I should. You see, I used to wish for happily ever afters; now, Get Out of Jail Free cards suffice - and maybe that's ok. Maybe a lack of control would do me good.

Relationships are like sex: it's not easy to keep going past a certain point but, if the two of you can last a while, unforgettable experiences ensue. In a world where the half-life of relationships grows shorter by the hour, perhaps there is some merit to flirting with unforgettableness.