Growing up, half of the people in my life told me that if I do what makes me happy, money will only follow, while the other half told me to make money first in order to be happy.
It’s an age-old question: become a physically starved yet emotionally fulfilled artist or a satiated yet unfulfilled amateur? Society almost always tells us to choose one, arguing that to achieve both at once is highly improbable.
First, I tried aiming for the money, chasing a degree in engineering, thinking maybe it’d make room for my happiness.
I quickly realized it was not for me.
So I switched gears, shooting for a doctorate in biology, thinking all that happiness I felt in science class would lead to something big. I had big dreams and an even bigger ambition to achieve them. But even maximum ambition can’t be sought out without at least an adequate end goal (translating into non-existential terms: I didn’t really want to be a doctor).
There are so many things in my life that bring me immense joy—music, art, science, literature—how can I choose just one when I love them all? I often find myself struck with a fear of commitment to a single thing that will make me happy for the rest of my life.
After all, we all strive to be happy, right?
Aristotle tells us that there’s more to life than just happiness, and there’s a word for it—eudaimonia.
It’s often argued that eudaimonia means something more than happiness; it means to flourish.
Sure, pleasure and money and status and all the good fortune in the world can make a person happy, but can they make them flourish? Aristotle argues that it’s not as simple as that.
To flourish, by Aristotle’s standards, is to live by virtue: an excellence of character. This is the ultimate end, argued to be more fulfilling than maximum happiness alone.
This isn’t to say we should totally disregard happiness. Even in Aristotle’s framework, while flourishing by virtue may be the ‘ultimate end,’ happiness is still a necessary ingredient in the pot of soup we call life.
So I decided to take Aristotle’s advice. It’s important to understand that the nature of someone’s character simply cannot be disregarded, no matter how much pleasure they have. I made a promise to myself that I would always try to do the right thing, even if it meant questioning pre-existing values that might be flawed.
Think of it like this: Maybe you want to be rich and famous. But would you take that opportunity if it guaranteed being a bad person?
I’d choose being a good person (rather, as good as I can actually be) over superficial things. I don’t think I’d ever be truly happy if I knew I wasn’t acting out of virtue–and that’s Aristotle’s whole point.
So what does this have to do with getting a degree? Everything.
When I switched my major to Philosophy, I didn’t have to choose. I could engage in everything I love and push myself through everything I don’t.
I realized that I didn’t have to put so much pressure on myself to be anything. All I had to do was be me. Do what makes life worth living.
So I chose philosophy.
Except this time, I don’t know what specific job I might have or how many degrees I’ll get or how much money I’ll make, but I know that I’ll be happy; I know that I’ll be flourishing.