The desire for happiness is a tricky entanglement of identity & expectations. There’s a subtle belief that everything must align perfectly - an ideal day where routines are followed, goals are met, and every interaction goes smoothly.
Yet, rarely do things go as planned.
When they don’t, discouragement, frustration, or even anger arise. It’s as if happiness is always just out of reach, held back by the slightest disruption or the smallest perceived flaw in how others respond.
Ironically, wanting so much from a day, from people, or from oneself only emphasizes what’s missing. Conversations with friends & family can feel hollow when the focus is on what isn’t being said. Time spent with others loses its ease when weighed down by the need for admiration or acknowledgment. It’s as if everything should revolve around a single point of reference: “me.”
This inward focus can turn every gathering into a stage and every conversation into a performance. When the spotlight isn’t where it’s expected, disappointment often follows. But the disappointment isn’t about the other person; it’s about the unfulfilled idea of how things should be. This belief that everything must meet some hidden standard of “perfect” before happiness can emerge creates a discordant cycle of discontent.
Yet, what is this “perfect” that’s being chased?
Perfect isn’t a day that runs smoothly from start to finish.
It’s not the absence of awkward silences or unmet expectations.
It’s not about being better than others, more in control, or more admired.
The search for perfection creates a loop of longing that keeps genuine connection just out of reach. So, what if the striving ended? What if real joy was found not in reaching perfection but in accepting what is?
This endless striving can lead to a subtle sense of isolation, even when surrounded by others. It’s a ‘form of’ aloneness that has nothing to do with being physically alone - it’s the sense of being cut off by - expectations, judgments, and a constant need for things to be different.
But aloneness doesn’t have to mean isolation. It can be a quiet acceptance of what arises - a peace that doesn’t need validation or praise. When that inner space is truly embraced, there’s a strange freedom in realizing that nothing external needs to change at all.
Conversations don’t need to go a certain way, others don’t need to ask the “right” questions nor give the “right” answers, and emotions - no matter how turbulent - are just passing waves.
The cycle breaks not through becoming more or eliminating flaws, nor by getting others to change - but by dropping the illusory need to fix or become anything at all. In that dropping, genuine presence surfaces - a presence that’s not concerned with being seen, understood, or admired.
It’s not about eliminating the desire for attention or changing the stance towards others. It’s simply about seeing it for what it is, feeling whatever arises, and then letting it go.
When the need to control how happiness shows up is released, aloneness shifts from feeling empty to feeling whole. In that wholeness, happiness appears in the most unexpected places.