Lately, my mind has been racing, a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, and ideas. It feels like I am on a quest—craving research, diving into new knowledge, and seeking meaning in the world. But no matter how much I immerse myself in learning, there’s still a lingering sadness that I just can’t shake. I know where it’s coming from. I am still processing the loss of my dad. His absence feels like a weight that I carry every day, and no matter how much time passes, the ache remains.
A part of me knows that I haven’t done much creative work lately, and maybe that’s why this sadness has settled so deeply. Creativity has always been my escape, my way of making sense of the world, but these past few weeks, that spark has dimmed. So, in an attempt to understand what’s going on within me, I turned to research. I dove into two dozen psychology papers on happiness, hoping they might offer a way out, or at least help me make sense of what I am feeling. And as I sat with these insights, something clicked. I found seven things—seven pillars—that seem to form the foundation of happiness. But these aren’t just abstract concepts; they’re deeply personal truths I have discovered along the way. And maybe, just maybe, they hold the key to healing.
1. Forgiveness
Forgiveness is something I have thought a lot about over the years. It’s not easy, especially when someone has hurt you deeply. But I have come to believe that forgiveness is the best revenge—not because it erases what happened, but because it frees you. It’s like standing face-to-face with someone holding a loaded gun, knowing you have the power to retaliate, but instead, you unload their weapon and walk away. It’s not weakness; it’s strength.
In these moments when grief makes me bitter, I remind myself: If I can forgive life for taking my dad too soon, maybe I can find some peace. It won’t bring him back, but it will free me from carrying the anger and regret. Forgiveness, I have learned, isn’t just for others—it’s a gift to ourselves.
2. Forgetting
I never knew how deeply the act of forgetting was tied to happiness until my dad passed away. In the early days of grief, I couldn’t sleep for nights on end. Every moment without him felt unbearable, like a wound that refused to close. But slowly, over time, sleep started doing something miraculous. The edges of my pain became softer, less jagged. The memories are still there, but they have settled in a way that doesn’t cut as deeply.
I have realised that forgetting isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about allowing it to sit gently within us. Some days, I wish I could forget the sadness completely, but maybe part of healing is learning to live with it—to let the memories stay without letting them break me.
3. Learning
Learning has always been a source of happiness for me, even from a young age. I remember the joy I felt as a child when my teacher praised my handwriting. It wasn’t just the praise; it was the thrill of learning something new, of mastering a skill. That feeling carried me through learning to type, program computers, ride a bike, drive a car—and even fly a plane. Each new skill I acquired made me feel alive, like I was adding layers to who I am.
But lately, with grief clouding my mind, it’s been harder to find that joy in learning. And yet, I know it’s still there, waiting for me. Maybe the next thing I learn won’t just be a skill—it might be a way to heal, to grow, to become whole again.
4. Family Bonds
Family has always been my safe space. No matter how chaotic life gets, the warmth of being with my siblings, uncles, and aunts brings me a sense of belonging. When we sit together, eat together, and share stories, it’s like a balm for my soul. And yet, losing my dad has made me realise just how fragile these bonds are.
I think about those studies that say people regret not spending enough time with their families at the end of their lives, and it hits me hard. I want to cherish the moments I still have with the people I love. If there’s anything my dad’s passing has taught me, it’s that time with family is the most precious gift we have. And I don’t want to let that slip away.
5. Travel
Travel has always been my way of hitting the reset button. I love the thrill of exploring new places, meeting new people, and experiencing different cultures. Whether it’s a short trip to a nearby town or an adventure to a far-off country, travel fills me with a sense of freedom and possibility.
But lately, even travel hasn’t felt the same. Grief has a way of following you, no matter where you go. Still, I know that somewhere out there, in the next place I visit, there’s joy waiting to be discovered. And maybe, just maybe, I will find pieces of myself along the way.
6. Helping Others
One thing that has stood out to me throughout this journey is the power of helping others. I have never seen someone who dedicates their life to kindness and social work be truly unhappy. There’s something about giving that fills a person with a sense of purpose and joy that material things never could.
In my darkest moments, I have realised that helping others lifts me too. It’s a reminder that even when life feels heavy, I still have something to give. And in giving, I receive—hope, meaning, and a reason to keep going.
7. Relationship with God
In the quiet moments, when the weight of grief feels unbearable, I find myself turning to God. There’s something profoundly healing about crying out in prayer, surrendering everything I feel, and trusting that there’s a plan greater than my understanding.
Every time I pray, I feel a little lighter, as if the act of placing my burdens in God’s hands brings me closer to peace. It doesn’t make the pain disappear, but it reminds me that I am not alone. And in that connection, I find a kind of happiness that goes beyond the surface—a happiness rooted in faith.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on these seven pillars—forgiveness, forgetting, learning, family bonds, travel, helping others, and faith—I realise that happiness is not something I have to chase. It’s already here, waiting to be rediscovered in the little things. Some days, it’s harder to find, buried under the weight of grief and loss. But it’s there—in the forgiveness I offer, the memories I choose to cherish, the lessons I learn, the love I share, the places I explore, the kindness I give, and the prayers I whisper.
This journey has not been easy, and I know there are still tough days ahead. But with each step I take, I am rebuilding my happiness, piece by piece. And maybe, just maybe, I will find that even in the midst of sadness, there’s still joy to be found—if I have the heart to look for it.
When my mom passed away, I felt anger at having been robbed of my mom too soon. I had just turned 32. And then, the grief of knowing that I will never be able to see her again until death comes to me sets in. Now, it’s been 14 years since her passing. It doesn’t feel that long ago. I still miss her dearly and will always cherish her presence in my life. Today, I accepted everything that has happened and is more at peace with the world.