Throughout the pages of The Geography of Bliss, Eric Weiner—a longtime foreign correspondent for National Public Radio (NPR) and “self-described mope”—attempts to understand happiness by examining the impact of culture and location on our overall mood, traveling to ten of the world’s “most contented places” in order to better discern what it means to be happy. He discovers that happiness presents itself differently to different people in different societies, with envy being the “great enemy of happiness” in Switzerland, and Gross National Happiness having been made a government policy in Bhutan. The Geography of Bliss prompted me to devote greater thought to how our surroundings interact with our inner states to produce feelings of happiness, sadness, and everything in between.
In explaining his motivation for seeking out the “where” of happiness, Eric Weiner writes, “Culture is the sea we swim in—so pervasive, so all-consuming, that we fail to notice its existence until we step out of it. It matters more than we think” (pg. 3). As evidenced by the longstanding nature versus nurture debate, we still struggle to accurately quantify the impact of our environment on the type of person we ultimately turn out to be. Though we might each have certain innate personality traits, it’s hard to dispute the fact that the culture in which we are raised plays some role in shaping who we become. The Geography of Bliss delves into the many ways our surroundings influence how we come to perceive happiness, comparing and contrasting a variety of countries in order to fully capture the spectrum of what we really mean when we say we’re happy. I found Weiner’s discussion of his trip to Bhutan to be particularly striking. He recalls a conversation he had with Karma Ura, a Bhutanese man who runs the nation’s only think tank. When asked whether he considers himself to be happy, Karma Ura replied that yes, he does, largely because he has learned not to have “unrealistic expectations.” While the idea of achieving happiness by going through life with reduced expectations may at first seem counterintuitive, upon further examination, such a proposition actually makes a great deal of sense—if we maintain realistic expectations for the future, we are more able to enjoy the present, instead of constantly striving for something better.
Of course, in the United States, we are taught from a very young age that we should never stop endeavoring to improve our current situation and ourselves. As Eric Weiner notes, “In America, high expectations are the engines that drive us, the gas in our tanks, the force behind our dreams and, by extension, our pursuit of happiness” (pg. 63). Hopes and dreams are undeniably important components of a fulfilled life, and complacency is understandably a state to be avoided. However, it could be argued that our never-ending pursuit of happiness actually prevents us from attaining that which we so desperately seek, since we have conditioned ourselves to believe we always need something more in order to be truly happy (even though, in most cases, we can’t quite define what this “something more” is). In Bhutan—where Gross National Happiness supplements gross national product as a measure of progress—”most people are happy, but no one talks about it” (pg. 74). Rather than continuously moving the target for happiness further and further down the road, the people of Bhutan just exist, and in the simple act of existing they find contentment. Or, as Karma Ura put it, “I find that living itself is a struggle, and if I’m satisfied, if I have just done that, lived well, in the evening I sigh and say, ‘It was okay'” (pg. 63).
Inspired by The Geography of Bliss, I gave some thought to the times I’ve been at my happiest, trying to determine whether any common thread could be found. The majority of memories that came to mind involved my mom, dad, and brother, particularly the family trips we’ve taken together. While the locations of our family trips might have something to do with why they remain so memorable, what really gave these moments their meaning were the people I shared them with. In thinking about what makes me happy, I was also able to reflect on how best to cope with life’s inevitable periods of unhappiness. Now more than ever—when we’re consumed by the stress, anxiety, and immense pressure associated with final exams—it’s crucial we keep in mind that which allows us to re-center ourselves whenever we feel lost.