What Makes People Happy? Hard Things With Purpose

By Dan Oakes, MEd, LPC, CSAT, Arizona Family Institute

What makes people happy, according to research? Why does doing hard things make you happier than doing easy ones? What's the difference between pleasure and happiness? How do I find purpose in my life? A lot of us hunt for happiness as if it sits in a basket somewhere and all we have to do is walk over and pick it up. The research points somewhere else. The two factors most correlated with happiness are difficulty and purpose. When you do something hard, and the work has a purpose you feel good about, your brain clicks on to happiness. Below I'll walk through the science of happiness and purpose, the difference between pleasure and happiness, and how to bring more meaningful effort into your life.

People rarely walk into my office and say, I want to be happy. They say, I'm tired. I'm stuck. I don't feel like myself anymore. Then there's usually a pause, and some version of the real question comes out. Where did it go?

I don't start by hunting for the missing happiness. I ask what they've been doing that's hard, and what it's for. Those two answers tell me more than almost anything else in a first session.

Happiness comes indirectly

Happiness research is clear here. Difficulty has to be paired with purpose. Hard work without a reason grinds you down, and a reason with no work stays a wish. When both show up together, happiness follows.

This part is tricky. To get happiness, I have to stop staring at happiness. I go do the thing that looks hard and has a purpose to it, and afterward I notice. Oh. Now I'm happy.

We live in a video game world. We think happiness works like pushing the right buttons and clearing the next level. Happiness doesn't come that way. It comes sideways, because we did other things.

I don't wanna run

Years ago my wife ran two to five miles, three times a week. We're older now. Back then her mornings went like this. She'd come out grumpy. I don't wanna run. I don't wanna run. And the whole time she's complaining, she's putting her shoes on.

Out the door. Two to five miles.

Then she'd walk back in and say, I love running. I feel so great. I'm so glad I ran.

She wasn't feeling pleasure. Pleasure is her favorite dirty soda. After a run she felt good about herself. Those two feelings get confused all the time, in my office and out of it, and learning the difference is one of the most important things we do in this life.

The two-finger game

I have 11 grandkids, and I play a game with them. I hold up two fingers and say, pick the one that makes you happy. This one is 15 candy bars. This one is walking down the street holding hands with Grandma. They pick Grandma every time.

Then I give them another one. Four hours on your iPad, or a bike ride together. They pick the bike ride.

They're four, five, six, and seven years old, and they already sense the difference between happy and feel good. Somewhere between seven and seventeen, a lot of us lose track of it. It's hard to learn at any age.

I tell young men a version of this too. I'm married. If I only wanted my wife for sex, sex would feel good. I want my wife for relationship and for closeness. When the closeness is there, sex belongs inside it, and then I feel good.

Fear belongs in the picture

Our culture teaches us to want everything easy and risk-free. Risk feels like failure. I might fail. I might disappoint somebody. A life organized around avoiding risk will never produce happiness. Most of the time you have to risk failure to find it.

So when someone tells me they're afraid, I don't rush to take the fear away. I look for what's useful in it.

A couple of years ago I served as a mission president. One young missionary came to me and said, President, knocking on doors terrifies me. I'm so scared. I told him, it is scary. I'm okay with you being scared. He said, I don't want to be afraid. His companion looked so comfortable at the door, and he figured doing the hard thing meant feeling comfortable first.

I told him most missionaries get used to being a little afraid, because most of the things we do in life are hard. Then I said, your fear is an asset. If I had to cross the country with a band of people, I'd want you in my group. You'd be the first one to notice danger. When you and your companion walk up to a door, he's thinking about knocking and talking. You're the one who'll notice if somebody is drunk or mean. He needs your fear.

He was quiet for a second. My fear is useful?

Absolutely. You only thought of it as bad.

It changed things for him. Later I asked, are you still scared knocking doors? Yeah, still scared. Good.

I use the same principle with almost everything people want less of. Study the healthy version of it. Someone trying to lose weight by eating less does worse than someone who learns what healthy eating looks like and practices it. Fear works the same way. So does overthinking.

When you catch yourself overthinking

Overthinking gets a bad name. It tends to show up in smart people, because you have to be smart to think about one thing three hundred times. It helps you see trouble coming. And overthinking is effort, and effort is where happiness comes from. Some of it is healthy.

The trouble starts when thinking turns into worry. When I catch myself there, I pause and go do something purposeful. I sweep the floor. I meditate on the back porch. I go for a walk. After I do something purposeful, I feel calmer and happier. Then I come back to the problem with less worry. Okay. This is hard. I'm going to figure it out.

What my dad told me

When I was young I wasn't sure I wanted to serve a mission. I talked to my dad about it. He was a convert. He said, you don't have to go. Don't go because I want you to go. But I wish I could have gone.

I asked him why.

He said, if I could do a hard thing for God, I would feel good about me, and I would feel good about him.

My dad grew old, and he and my mom served seven missions together.

I think about him when I'm tempted to take the easy road. Hard and purposeful rarely looks appealing from the outside. Look for the hard thing with a reason behind it anyway, and put your shoes on while you're still complaining.

Dan Oakes, MEd, LPC, CSAT, is the founder of Arizona Family Institute in Mesa, Arizona, where he works with individuals, couples, and families on attachment, relationships, and recovery. To schedule an appointment with Dan or another AFI therapist, visit [AFI scheduling link].