When I’m unhappy, I feel like I’m doing life wrong. I’d rather be happy. But is happiness the point of life, or is there more to it? If I pursue happiness, mine first then for those around me, is that selfish? But if there’s a bigger purpose, then what about people with Alzheimer’s or dementia who can’t recall recent experiences or make plans?
That's a pretty high bar. In fact exaggerated focus on "am I happy" can sort of fuck you up. Focusing on what you appreciate is supposed to be better and make you happier. The cliché is "the meaning of life is to give life meaning" which is disgustingly Hallmark, but still has a fair point. Just do whatever - a good idea is to not get too existential if you can avoid it.
Part of the inspiration for this post was: I am a grown up and I can do whatever I want with the next hour. What will I do? What does that say about me? What should I do with my life? What kind of person does that make me? Am I shallow for just wanting to experience as many new things as possible? I don't think so, I think that's just my genetics expression themselves. But that raises questions about free will, and I'm not willing to ponder that this morning. I'd rather spend the next hour doing something fun.