The Pursuit of Happiness: Understanding Happiness and Joy

Happiness versus joy

Happiness and joy are often confused, but they have distinct meanings. Recognizing this difference enables us to enjoy life more and focus on what truly matters. In my last post, “It’s Okay to Be Sad: Embracing Emotions,” I discussed how unpredictable and imperfect life can be, and how we often fail to take the time to understand many of our emotions.

Through grief, I’ve learned to sit with these feelings and work through pain so I can rediscover my authentic self after loss has changed who I was. We live in a world that pushes us to chase happiness, to fill our lives with comfort, laughter, and success. From a young age, we are told that happiness is a measure of a good life. We aim for it, share about it online, and often feel something’s wrong with us when it disappears.

Losing Kevin to suicide, a sudden and profound loss, taught me that happiness isn’t permanent. It’s fragile and depends on what’s happening around us. When grief arrives, happiness often quietly leaves. But even in that emptiness, something deeper remains, something quieter and steadier. That’s joy. Since Kevin’s death, I often wonder about the difference between happiness and joy. Before his passing, I was always chasing happiness for myself and my children. Through tragedy and loss, I’ve learned a painful but life-changing truth.

Chasing Happiness

Happiness is a feeling of contentment or satisfaction in the present moment, often rooted in circumstances. Yet, the pursuit of happiness can become a fruitless chase; the more we try to grasp it, the more it seems to slip away.

The very word “happiness” comes from hap, meaning chance or circumstance. When life goes well, we’re happy; when it doesn’t, we’re not.

We’re often told to “choose happiness.” I remember saying this to Kevin when he was unhappy with his job and left it. Each New Year, I would tell him, “This will be your happiest year yet,” praying that joy would find its way into the places where he was hurting. I remember saying those words on January 1, 2020, our last New Year together. I see now that his blank expression wasn’t indifference, but the numbness that depression brings.

In grief, I’ve learned that I can’t simply “choose happiness.” Instead, I must choose grit and resilience, realizing that life isn’t about the single-minded pursuit of happiness, it’s about discovering joy.

Joy and happiness can coexist, but they are distinct. We can feel both at once, but we cannot feel happiness in the middle of pain and suffering. Joy, however, often emerges in the midst of suffering and when we discover meaning and purpose through it.

For those struggling today, burdened by pressure to perform and succeed, happiness may feel elusive. Many wrestle with the fear of failure or with expectations—both internal and external—that feel impossible to meet. As a society, we need to shift our focus from chasing happiness to finding joy and purpose, even in the midst of our pain.

The Nature of Happiness

Happiness is a wonderful feeling, but it is often linked to one's circumstances. Yesterday, I experienced genuine happiness as I celebrated my granddaughter’s ninth birthday with my family. Her innocence, her laughter, and her excitement over each gift filled my heart with joy. However, the moment was marred by Kevin's absence. I’ve learned to accept both realities: the joy of the present and the pain of missing someone.

Joyful moment - Kevin reading to his nieces

Happiness is the joy of laughter with friends, the warmth of sunlight on a good day, the celebration of special moments, and the pride that comes from achievement or recognition. It rises and falls with life’s rhythms. When things go well, we feel it; when life takes a turn, it fades.

There’s nothing wrong with happiness. It’s a gift to be enjoyed. But it’s not meant to carry us through life’s storms. Happiness depends on what happens to us, while joy depends on what happens within us.

Grief and the Discovery of Joy

Joy runs deeper than emotion. It’s not about pretending everything is fine or forcing a smile when we’re breaking inside. Joy is sacred, but it doesn’t deny pain; it holds it. It sits beside grief and whispers, “You’re still alive. There is still light here.”

When grief first hits, it feels as though joy will never return. The days blur together, and happiness seems like a stranger. The things that once brought comfort lose their color. But over time, and often in the smallest, most unexpected ways, joy begins to reemerge.

It might appear in a moment of stillness, as the morning light stretches across the sky. In a memory that brings both tears and a smile. In a friend’s quiet presence. Or in the simple truth that love remains, even after the person you love is gone.

Grief changes how we experience joy. It makes it deeper, quieter, and more sacred. Joy after loss isn’t loud or showy; it’s humble. It’s not about forgetting, but about remembering with gratitude rather than only pain.

Joy isn’t something we can manufacture. It’s a grace that develops over time, often in the cracks where our hearts have been broken. Reading stories or memories of Kevin from friends brings me joy. Looking at family vacation photos fills me with a sense of gratitude. It’s a conscious choice to stay open and to hope, to trust, and to believe that light can still shine in a dark world.

Sometimes, joy appears in moments that don’t make sense, in laughter through tears, the peace that settles quietly after a long cry, or the awareness that love has not been taken from us by death. Through faith, we come to see that joy is not the absence of pain, but the presence of something greater than pain, and the presence of love, of meaning, of God Himself.

Though joy cannot be forced, it can be experienced in difficult situations. Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. James 1:2-3 NIV.

Reflection

I’ve learned that even in the midst of sadness and loss, joy can coexist with grief. It may not look or feel the way it once did, but it’s still there and in gratitude, in love remembered, and in the quiet awareness that even our deepest wounds can become sacred spaces of growth.

Joy is not an emotion that can be forced, fabricated, or faked. Joy doesn’t shout. It’s the gentle pulse beneath the pain that reminds us we are still alive, still capable of love, and still connected to something eternal.

So when happiness feels out of reach, don’t lose hope. Look deeper. Joy might already be there, quietly waiting to be seen.