One of the many reasons I read books and blogs is to find insights to the question of what it means to fully live. Sounds deep, I know. But I figure that I could use some guidance on this, and what better way to learn than hearing from the people that have gone before you?

Recently, I stumbled across this idea from Austin Kleon’s blog, which referenced a piece by writer Oliver Burkeman called eight secrets to a (fairly) fulfilled life. Burkeman writes,

When stumped by a life choice, choose “enlargement” over happiness. I’m indebted to the Jungian therapist James Hollis for the insight that major personal decisions should be made not by asking, “Will this make me happy?”, but “Will this choice enlarge me or diminish me?” We’re terrible at predicting what will make us happy: the question swiftly gets bogged down in our narrow preferences for security and control. But the enlargement question elicits a deeper, intuitive response. You tend to just know whether, say, leaving or remaining in a relationship or a job, though it might bring short-term comfort, would mean cheating yourself of growth. (Relatedly, don’t worry about burning bridges: irreversible decisions tend to be more satisfying, because now there’s only one direction to travel – forward into whatever choice you made.)

It’s tempting to defer to the path of least resistance, which is often a path that leads to pleasures. And so, this idea that we should put aside these short-term pleasures is honestly kind of confronting, despite these pleasures being often pathological. I mean, if you had to choose a pet, a cute, chubby bee seems much preferable than an ugly, hairy caterpillar.

But looking back, it’s clear that some of the best decisions I’ve ever made fell in line with this framework of prioritising enlargement over happiness. Things like speaking up when it was uncomfortable. Leaving my hometown. Creating this blog. Public speaking.

Interestingly, over time these initially difficult decisions have transitioned into wonderful sources of happiness, something akin to a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. It’s just in that one moment, a bee looks oh-so-cute, even though it might very well give you a sting leading to your demise.

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The article referenced can be found here.