In Defence of Purpose: Why Be Happy When You Can Just Be Miserable?

First things first, I apologise for the incendiary title: it’s deliberate (perhaps unsurprisingly).

First things first, I apologise for the incendiary title: it’s deliberate (perhaps unsurprisingly).

Sure, I’m more interested in discussion than clickbait — but it’s a good place to start.

The importance of purpose is widely documented.

The importance of happiness? Less so — and for good reason.

What purpose and happiness have in common: both are subjective, internal, and self-defined.

So, what differentiates purpose from happiness?

Purpose creates meaning, whereas happiness only implies it.

I love writing.

It gives me so much.

But, at least historically, I have written my best work when very unhappy.

My writing has given me an outlet, a way of processing things — a space to ‘just be’, whatever that means. It’s been a friend, a lover, and, above all, a companion; the pain and pleasure of the practice compounded by the fact that it was my own — something that no-one could take away from me.

At times, it’s felt like all I had — and so I treasured it.

But back to the question: why be happy when you can just be miserable?

It’s like asking, “why be rich when you can just be poor?”

The real question is this: what defines — and therefore differentiates — one from the other?

It’s not as straightforward as it might appear.

Happiness is a state of mind. Misery is a feeling.

Terminology is important.

Referring to something as ‘a state of mind’ is not only more flippant than describing it as a ‘feeling’ (implying that this is a choice chosen by the mind, rather than a state full stop), but more transient.

A state is just ‘the way things are now’.

The mind is just ‘the most powerful vehicle we have for quantifying, analysing and defining our experience of the world’.

This too shall pass.

Feelings are not facts. Who you are is defined by how you choose to see, and react to, what’s going on externally.

Who you are, in short, is internal. It exists independent of where you are and who you’re with, despite the fact that it does, invariably, impact upon what you choose to do with your life and who you choose to spend time with.

Because life is short — and no-one knows what the future holds.

Because your life matters.

Because purpose is the cornerstone — and when you have that, all else follows.

Purpose is a personal commitment to progression.

I am happy when I feel purposeful; when I feel like I know who I am, what I’m doing and where I’m going; and when I set clear, actionable goals to help me get there. When I am working towards something and, above all, am making a conscientious effort to better myself.

Purpose is my anchor. I feel lost without it.

The fact that I am miserable without it is secondary.

I want it; I need it; it is my integrity.

It makes me happy; it keeps me sane; it grounds me in the here and now — in who I am today, where I want to be, and what I need to change in order to make this a reality.

This is not hyperbole: this is my process.

It is, and will be, different for everybody, but what it means is to some extent universal.

And by saying this I do not intend to negate the breadth, depth and nuances of individual experience, nor diminish the fact that, undoubtedly, what is easy for some is much, much harder for others (for a variety of reasons), but this isn’t about weighing up the relative implications of socioeconomic disadvantage. It’s a blogpost, not an academic paper, and I don’t have the credentials to pretend otherwise — but even if I did, I wouldn’t want to.

The purpose of this post is to strike up a conversation.

The purpose of this post is to make you think.

So, I turn the question on its head.

Tell me, what does purpose mean to you?

What brings you joy? And which matters most to you?

I would love to hear your thoughts.

You can reach me at rachelclif@gmail.com