When I’m unhappy, I feel like I’m doing life wrong. I’d rather be happy. But is happiness the point of life, or is there more to it? If I pursue happiness, mine first then for those around me, is that selfish? But if there’s a bigger purpose, then what about people with Alzheimer’s or dementia who can’t recall recent experiences or make plans?
There is no purpose to life. It’s all arbitrary. Life is whatever you make it to be.
Unless you’re physically incapable just about everything in life is a choice, including happiness and the pursuit of it.
Our biggest hurdle is our own mind.