Why Accomplishing More Doesn’t Always Make Us Happier

I’ve been working towards the goals I set at the start of the year. I’ve reviewed my progress with only two months left to end the year and it’s impressive. I’m well on the way to accomplishing everything I’d set my mind on.

I should be happy. Unfortunately, I’m not. I’m kind of blasé about it all. The list of accomplishments has not made me more content or less restless.

The tasks or goals achieved have become bittersweet. I cross one of them, then another appears. As my pursuit of a goal ends, I’m ecstatic for a few fleeting moments, and then I feel empty again until the next goal appears on the horizon.

I feel like how Sisyphus, the King of Corinth, must have felt when Zeus, the God of gods, sentenced him to an eternal punishment of rolling a boulder up a hill in the depth of Hades, the underworld, only for the boulder to roll back down again.

By chasing goals and accomplishments, am I just alleviating the hollowness in my life and kick-starting cycle after cycle of aimlessness? What if every time I finish and remove a goal that mattered to me meant that all I did was create a life that had less meaningful things left to do?

The great philosopher, Aristotle, explained this dilemma by stating that two main categories of activities make life meaningful: Telic and Atelic.

Telic comes from the Greek word Telos, meaning purpose, goal or end—for example, running a marathon, achieving X amount in sales, or getting an MBA. However, the problem with telic activities is that they pose a paradox.

When we fail, we are dissatisfied. When we do accomplish the end, our happiness is short-lived and immediately, we start looking for a new goal. The excitement of completing the race wears off after a few days. The Master’s degree will not suffice, and we aim for a PHD, or hitting a sales target means we need to raise the next one. It just never stops.

The meaning we get from Telic activities cannot be sustained. Thus, we are always looking for what’s next—our fulfilment will always lie in the future or the past. Postponing our happiness is no way to live. The more we continually strive towards success, accomplishments and goals, the more miserable we feel.

Let’s say I set a goal of writing a book, and after twelve months and much hard work, I complete the book. True, I will celebrate its completion for a few days, but then I will find myself empty—rid of the activity that gave me meaning and contentment in the first place.

This striving ideology seems to be inbred, probably developed over time from “the Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism,” to quote the landmark 1905 book by sociologist Max Weber.

The Atelic class of activities are those done with no goal in mind. They are done for their own sake. The activity is its own reward. They keep us grounded in the present. These could include taking walks, cooking, spending time with family and friends.

Atelic activities could also include big concepts like being a good parent, dedicating our lives to a specific cause, or aiming to be a better writer. These are not exhaustible; they remain unfinished and a continual source of joy throughout our lives. Thus, there is no emptiness felt.

We often blame our choices—wrong relationships, wrong careers—for the dissatisfaction we feel but this only treats the symptoms and not the cause. We need to rather question why we allow ourselves to get stuck on this hamster wheel of renewable goals.

The real problem is, thus, not the activities we pursue. Instead, it’s the value that we place on the action. What if chasing the PHD was a goal not true to our authentic selves but one set by our environment? What if we get married for the wrong reasons due to a shortcoming in our upbringing?

We can’t build our life around telic activities as we do with relationships and careers. For us to have more contentment and harmony in our lives, we should incorporate more of those activities that are only means without an end.

It’s also not that hard to pursue atelic activities as they often correspond to each of the big projects of our life. For example, suppose preparing dinner for the kids is a telic activity, which would be ticked off only to be replaced by reading to them before bed. In that case, we should consider the atelic activity of being a good parent.

Whenever I sit and write for an hour or so towards a blog or book, I feel a sense of accomplishment that brings me both a sense of joy and inner peace. So, completing the book is the telic act, and the writing process becomes the atelic activity.

What activities do you do that make you feel both purposeful and engaged in your day?