Understanding the gap between what we have and what we want.

Calm minimalist scene with a warm cup of morning tea

It’s not what you have — it’s the space between what you have and what you want

What is happiness, really? And when do we honestly feel it?

I’ve met people who don’t earn much, who don’t own much, and who still live with a deep, steady sense of peace. They sleep a full eight hours, wake up refreshed, and move through their day with quiet contentment.

And then some people attend beautiful parties, wear stunning clothes, and appear to be living the dream — yet they open their eyes every morning feeling behind, unsatisfied, and oddly empty.

The difference between these two lives rarely comes from money or status.
More often, it comes down to a simple truth:

Happiness is shaped by the gap between what you have and what you want.

When life itself became the bonus

People who’ve had a near-death experience often say their entire relationship with life changes afterward. I had a moment like that years ago, and it shifted something in me.

I realized that being alive at all — breathing, moving, waking up — was already an incredible gift. When you honestly understand that life is fragile, unpredictable, and can disappear without warning, everything that comes after feels like a bonus you didn’t expect but get to enjoy anyway.

That shift alone changed the way I live — and the way I measure happiness.

Why lottery winners often become less happy

A surprising number of lottery winners end up less satisfied with life five or ten years after they win. It sounds impossible, but it’s a consistent finding.

The problem isn’t the money.
It’s the expectations.

When someone goes from an ordinary middle-class life to millions overnight, they naturally expect life to bloom into a permanent, effortless happiness. They assume the money will solve everything — stress, insecurity, frustration, loneliness.

But when the excitement fades and they realize money can’t fix the deeper parts of life — relationships, identity, emotional patterns — they crash. Hard.

That’s why I believe:

If your expectations grow faster than your income, you will never feel satisfied — no matter how much you earn.

So… how do we manage our expectations about money?

I truly wish there were a simple trick — there isn’t.

Most of our modern spending, once we move past basic needs, comes from one place:
the desire to be seen, admired, or validated.

The house we choose, the car we drive, the brands we wear, the watch on our wrist — so much of it becomes a quiet way of saying, “Look at me. I made it.”

It took me a long time to step away from that mindset, but eventually I learned one of the most freeing truths of adulthood:

Most people aren’t thinking about us nearly as much as we imagine.

Comedian Jimmy Carr said something that captures this perfectly:

“In your twenties, you worry about what others think of you.
In your thirties, you decide you don’t care.
In your forties, you realize the truth — they were never thinking about you at all.”

It hits because it’s true.
People are wrapped up in their own lives, their own worries, their own stories.
We spend years trying to impress people who aren’t even looking.

Once I finally accepted that, money became something entirely different for me.
I stopped using it to win approval and started using it to build a life that actually felt good to live.

For me, that definition became very simple:

Happiness is waking up with the freedom to spend your day doing what you want, with the people you want, for as long as you want.

Of course, I still catch myself dreaming about the nicer house or the beautiful car — I’m human. But now I can gently redirect myself:
“That’s not the thing that will make your life better.”

And over time, that small correction built an unexpected sense of peace.
Instead of chasing other people’s opinions, I began noticing the small, grounding moments in my own day — the warm cup of tea in the morning, sunlight creeping across the yard, the quiet feeling of being enough.

That became my version of happiness.

Happiness was closer than I thought

It didn’t require more income, a bigger house, or a perfect life plan.
It required adjusting my expectations just enough to see what was already good, and focusing on the parts of life I can actually control.

Happiness often appears in the smallest places — a slow morning, a calm breath, a familiar routine, a moment of gratitude you didn’t realize you needed.

So let me ask you:

What moment recently made you smile without trying?
When do you feel most like yourself?

Chances are, that moment was happiness — quietly waiting for you to notice it.