Pursuit of happiness like chasing sleep

The chief obstacle to starting the new year with a show of satisfying determination to get on with the job of translating one’s new year resolutions into dedicated practice is the hangover.

Not to speak of stout protest by one’s gut bacteria against being subjected to all kinds of unusual materials ingested in uncaring abandon, in honour of the Happy New Year, the said protest taking the form of fermenting acid and gases that, apart from deforming the body’s midsection, also contributes to global warming.


The net result is a strange paradox: a deliberate attempt to achieve happiness on new year’s eve kicks off a headache and an unsettling unease radiating from the tummy and permeating high thought as well as low appetite for what should have been delectable leftovers from celebrations the day before.

Happiness, in other words, joins sleep in that category of things that elude you once you chase them. Nor is this evasiveness designed to goad you on to greater fervour, as in the case of some other pursuits. Happiness is not like the meaning of life. If you spend serious time and energy on its quest, your exertions bring on the opposite of what you seek.

Let it come to you, stop the search and relax — on the couch or the beach, in the park or the club, someone else’s solicitude or a good read. Just stop fretting over it.