The True Essence of Contentment, Gratitude, and Happiness (Part 2): Learning to Let Go Between Effort and Contentment

Translated by AI

Does happiness inevitably accompany our acceptance of what we have? The answer, I've found, is more nuanced than I initially thought.

I once felt as though my life was characterized by exerting significant effort. Whether working, expressing myself, or even planning leisure activities, there was always intensity. Slacking off seemed synonymous with falling behind; exerting effort became second nature, and idleness felt discomforting.

At that time, I managed to complete an important project—a long-held goal. Though others shared in my joy, I merely felt breathless, not unhappy but rather hollow, like a marathoner crossing the finish line who then stands uncertain of where to go next.

Our society extols effort as a virtue, often equating it with self-worth. However, rarely is it acknowledged that one can be ambitious yet still pause. You can aspire yet declare, "As things stand today, this suffices."

Psychology introduces the " cognitive dissonance theory "—the notion that, faced with conflicts between beliefs and reality, people attempt to lessen psychological tension by altering one element. This adaptation may be mistaken for " self-soothing ," but it truly represents maturity: when change isn't viable externally, adjusting internally provides renewed equilibrium.

I began engaging in activities devoid of proving anything: reorganizing bookshelves, changing sheets, preparing breakfast porridge in a clay pot. During these times, I experienced neither anxiety nor extraordinary bliss—just a quiet presence.

Maurice Merleau-Ponty proposed that humans find significance by physically engaging with the world. Happiness transcends thoughts, manifesting instead as an embodied connection to life's experience. While hanging laundry on the balcony, choosing radishes at the market, or daydreaming over a sink of dishes, such moments yield no tangible outcomes yet revive my " alive-ness ."

Effort isn't wrong; it's directional. Contentment aligns the pace.

We can dash forward but must remember to stroll; strive earnestly yet realize some joys are designed for relishing, not showcasing.

My conviction strengthens: happiness isn't gauged by lateral positions but by embracing sentiments of having journeyed sufficiently far. It's not about surrender but recognizing treasures worth preserving.

The lesson lies not in relinquishing but in letting go with grace.