How to Truly Cultivate Happiness
The human body has a fundamental limitation: our capacity for sensory experience is vastly outstripped by our imagination. We can envision a "radiant black," yet our naked eyes cannot perceive it. We can create dishes so exquisite they move people to tears, yet once our stomach is full, even the finest flavors become meaningless. This is precisely why augmented reality exists, why ancient scholars sought inspiration in wine, and why artists have explored altered states through substances like mushrooms.
Our senses reach their saturation point quickly—and it is precisely when these limits are transcended that we experience profound delight. There is a word for this state: ecstasy. While I do not advocate the pursuit of such extremes, this phenomenon reveals a fundamental mechanism of joy: when our sensitivity is heightened, even the most ordinary experiences can bring immense pleasure.
Many assume that enhancing perception requires constant novelty and stimulation. But novelty is subject to the law of diminishing returns. Eventually, even orbiting the Earth in a spacecraft may fail to excite you. Everything begins to feel monotonous.
Raising the "happiness threshold" alone is not the answer. So what is?
True ecstasy comes not from raising that threshold, but from consciously lowering it. You need neither extreme stimuli nor mind-altering substances. There is a simpler, more accessible method: consistently choose the more challenging path in daily life.
Embrace what is difficult, uncomfortable, or demanding—and be wary of what feels instantly gratifying or effortless. For example, when torn between binge-watching a series and attending an online course, challenge yourself to choose the course.
Doing hard things sharpens your senses and lowers your happiness threshold. Opting for what is easy—especially pleasure that requires no effort—dulls your perception and endlessly elevates the threshold for joy.
Life is full of such examples. Which is more satisfying: a daily feast of imperial delicacies, or a simple cup of noodles after an exhausting mountain climb?
The principle is clear. Happiness is not elusive—the key lies in placing meaningful obstacles before it. Joy, by nature, is a reward mechanism. Pleasure without earned reward often brings side effects: numbness, fatigue, and emptiness. Only rewarded happiness is sustainable—the kind that doesn’t leave you scrolling mindlessly on your phone, yawning in dissatisfaction.
The same object, person, or scenario, when obtained too easily, loses its charm. But when it becomes a reward, you truly savor it. Think about it—isn’t that true?
Most things that make you healthier, wiser, or more fulfilled begin with discomfort. Yet discomfort does not equate to unhappiness. On the contrary, what feels strenuous, mentally taxing, or physically exhausting often leads to profound satisfaction—even a healthy kind of addiction. Because these efforts serve your growth, the “addiction” they create is a virtuous one.
Resist the habit of turning to consumption or instant gratification whenever boredom strikes—be it shopping, binge-watching, overeating, or snacking. These may offer momentary “pleasure,” but over time, they drain your spirit and deepen your sense of apathy.
The secret to happiness, then, does not lie in consumption or indulgence. The “high” they offer is limited, repetitive, and ultimately monotonous.
True joy is found in continual growth—in leveling up, troubleshooting, and debugging your own life.
It’s in climbing upward even when the summit is out of sight, sustained by faith and perseverance. At the peak, your perception is at its sharpest, and your happiness threshold at its lowest. A sip of plain water tastes sweeter than any delicacy. No mushrooms are needed.
At the end of your life, when you have run the race and fought the good fight, happiness becomes simple. You will find profound joy in the most ordinary and humble of things—a clear glass of water, a modest home, a tranquil heart.
That is the state where true contentment lies: unshaken, unadorned, and utterly complete.