Everyone, Nick explained, knows what happiness is. For my neighbor, it’s a feeling of euphoria, while his wife perceived it as tranquility. Both confirmed each other’s views without noticing that those emotional states are exact opposites in terms of blood pressure. The former a pulse of a hundred and counting; the latter sixty and sinking. If we could really reduce happiness to a single term like euphoria or tranquility, then we might as well erase it from the dictionary because it doesn’t add anything.

Yet, what if the notion of happiness is a concealed compound word? In the likes of “kindergarten,” “raincoat,” and “butterfly,” the fusion of two nouns is apparent. However, in German, “happiness” lacks even two syllables, adding to its deceptive nature. What if there were simple and compound emotions, with happiness classified as the latter? If true, what does it encompass?

No one truly knows. The list is vast and varied. Alongside euphoria and tranquility, let’s add success, health, locks, security, purpose, and friendships. However, the fuller the cart, the slimmer the chances for happiness. That’s the law of probability.

It’s different for simple emotions. I cannot be mistaken about my own pain, and the joy of others is easily discernible. Nick’s euphoria can be verified by a blood pressure monitor, just as his wife’s profound tranquility. But what pulse might define happiness? All compound emotions share the fate of indeterminacy.

We could use the term “happiness” to sum up our overall situation, claiming to be „very happy,“ „quite happy,“ or „not unhappy.“ Yet, a five-star rating system like those on Google and Amazon would be notably more precise. I recall a customer who succinctly rated his well-being as “C minus.” Translated, that equates to 2.8 stars, rendering the concept of happiness somewhat redundant, wouldn’t you agree?

The world of advertising must recognize happiness as a mishmash term, compounded of various elements. That’s why it asks us if we’re truly (!) happy and suggests that something is missing. Hence, we purchase the whitening toothpaste and commit to a gym membership. Hey, it’s all part of happiness.

Under a microscope, happiness turns out to be a convoluted construct. That’s why I steer clear of it. Of course, you’re free to bundle various states of mind into a single term, but what’s the gain? Wouldn’t it be wiser to restrict life’s pursuit to just two or perhaps three simple emotions? Consider a modicum of peace, seasoned with intermittent bouts of joy. And here’s the kicker: both can be gauged right at your pulse.