A Letter to Future Generations: On the Philosophy of Happiness — Part I: Unhappiness

Written with love and wisdom gained through years of seeking… and I am keeping doing this

Hey there, younger teenager,

I know you’re probably sitting in your dorm room right now, stressed about midterms, wondering if you picked the right major, scrolling through Instagram and feeling like everyone else is happy and has their life figured out except you. Spoiler alert: they don’t. But more importantly, that anxious knot in your stomach—that constant feeling that happiness is just around the corner, waiting for you after the next exam, the next internship, the next relationship—that’s exactly what I need to talk to you about.

I’m not going to lie and say I have all the answers now. But what I do have is perspective, and a lot of late-night conversations with dead philosophers who’ve been wrestling with the same question that’s keeping you up at 2 AM: What the hell is happiness, and why does it feel so impossible to hold onto?

You’re taking that Philosophy class right now (or you will be soon), and honestly? Those ancient dudes and modern thinkers you’re reading aren’t just academic exercises. They’re survival guides. They’ve mapped out the territory you’re stumbling through in the dark. So let me share what I’ve learned from them—not as some abstract theory, but as actual, practical wisdom that might save you from some of the mistakes I made.

The Instagram Illusion: Why Pleasure ≠ Happiness

First things first: let’s talk about what happiness is not. And this is going to sting a little because you’re currently chasing all the wrong things. I know you think that getting into that competitive program, landing that internship, going to those competitions, buying those new sneakers, or getting validation from that person you’re into is going to make you happy. It won’t. At least not in the way you think.

Look around your campus. Everyone’s curating their perfect life on social media—the beach trips, the late-night study sessions that look aesthetic, the friend groups that seem effortlessly close. What you’re not seeing is the anxiety attacks in the library bathroom, the loneliness at 1 AM, the constant comparison and self-doubt. That’s because we’ve all been sold the same lie: that happiness is a collection of perfect moments and shiny achievements.

“Happiness is not pleasure, but the absence of pain; not ecstasy, but peace.”
— Epicurus (341-270 BCE)
Here’s where Epicurus comes in clutch—and no, he’s not just about “eat, drink, and be merry” like people think. This guy from 300 BCE actually had Instagram figured out before Instagram existed. He said there are two types of pleasure: the quick hit (kinetic pleasure) and the sustained contentment (katastematic pleasure). Think about it like this:

Kinetic pleasure is that rush when you get 200 likes on a post, when you hook up with someone at a party, when you buy something new, when you ace a test you crammed for. It feels amazing… for about twenty minutes. Then it fades, and you’re already looking for the next hit.

Katastematic pleasure—what Epicurus called ataraxia (basically, peace of mind)—is that feeling when you’re sitting with your real friends, no phones out, just talking. Or when you’re working on a project you actually care about and you lose track of time. Or when you’re alone on a Tuesday night, not doing anything special, and you realize you’re… okay. More than okay. Content.

I’m not going to pretend I didn’t chase the kinetic stuff. You will too. You’re going to buy things that don’t make you happy, pursue people who aren’t right for you, and spend way too much energy trying to impress people you don’t even like. That’s part of being in your twenties. But the sooner you realize that these thrills are junk food for the soul—temporarily satisfying but ultimately leaving you emptier than before—the sooner you can start building something real.

The Hedonic Treadmill (Or: Why Getting What You Want Doesn’t Fix You)

There’s this concept in psychology called the hedonic treadmill, and it’s going to explain so much of your disappointment. Basically, we adapt to everything. You finally get into your dream school—amazing for a week, then it’s just… where you go. You land that competitive internship—incredible for a month, then it’s just… your job. You start dating that person you were obsessed with—exhilarating for a few months, then relationship maintenance.

Studies show that lottery winners return to their baseline happiness level within a year. A year. Let that sink in. If winning millions of dollars only makes you happier for twelve months, what chance does getting an A in Organic Chemistry have? This isn’t pessimism—it’s liberation. It means you can stop believing the lie that your happiness is waiting for you on the other side of achievement. It’s not. It never was.

“Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.”
— Marcus Aurelius (121-180 CE)

So, how can you escape this treadmill? Find out in the next installment of this special philosophy-of-happiness series!