Are you happy?

'Some people appear to be happy, but they simply don't give the matter much thought. Others make plans: I'm going to have a husband, a home, two children, a house in the country. As long as they're busy doing that, they're like bulls looking for a bullfighter: they react instinctively, they blunder on, with no idea where the target is. They get their car, sometimes they even get a Ferrari, and they think that's the meaning of life, and they never question it. Yet their eyes betray the sadness that even they don't know they carry in their soul. Are you happy?'

'I don't know.'

'I don't know if everyone is happy. I know they're all busy: working overtime, worrying about their children, their husband, their career, their degree, what they're going to do tomorrow, what they need to buy, what they need to have in order not to feel inferior, etc. Very few people actually say to me: "I'm unhappy." Most say: "I'm fine, I've got everything I ever want." Then I ask: "What makes you happy?" Answer:"I've got everything a person could possibly want - a family, a home, work and good health." I ask again: "Have you ever stopped to wonder if that's all there is to life?" Answer:"Yes, that's all there is." I insist: "So the meaning of life is work, family, children who will grow up and leave you, a wife or husband who will become more like a friend than a real lover. And, of course, one day your work will end too. What will you do when that happens?" Answer: there is no answer. They change the subject.'

'No, what they say is: "When the children have grown up, when my husband - or my wife - has become more my friend than my passionate lover, when I retire, then I'll have time to do what I always wanted to do: travel." Question: "But didn't you say you were happy now? Aren't you already doing what you always wanted to do?" Then they say they're very busy and change the subject.'

'Are you happy?'

'No, I have the woman I love, the career I always dreamed of having, the kind of freedom that is the envy of all my friends, the travel, the honours, the praise. But there's something...'

'What?'

'I have the idea that, if I stopped, life would become meaningless.'

Paulo Coelho
The Zahir p.38,39