The paradox at the heart of purpose and happiness

Happiness is fulfilment. Contentment. Satisfaction. True happiness comes from not wanting anything more, from being completely and utterly satisfied as is, and for me, that always meant that you could never really be truly happy, because if you were you would lose all purpose and live a stagnant life, because you didn't want to be greater since you were already satisfied.

And thus, logically, I've always thought of burning purpose and happiness to be polar opposites, because that purpose stems from an intense *desire* to be better, to be something, to harness the power of change, and that happiness comes from satisfaction and complacency.

Yet the argument that "Desire is the root of all suffering" also rang hollow to me. What is life if not suffering? We're lucky to experience anything at all, and most of our anger stems from entitlement, expectations that things are supposed to go our way and that we *deserve* a fair world. Sure, we can fight for it, we can do our very best, spend every last breath raging against the heavens and fighting to make the world a better place, but one must not be disappointed when the outcome is not as expected. Instead, they must rejoice in the very fact that they can fight, that they're free, and alive, and fighting for something they believe in. That in and of itself is more than most humans get to do.

Getting back to the point, without desire, there would be no purpose. Or at least that's how I see it now, but perhaps I am mistaken, and if so there will definitely be a Thought on that down the line. However, for the time being, I believe that without desire, there would be no purpose. And thus happiness, which is the absence of desire, must also be the absence of purpose. When you've achieved everything you've wanted, you become devoid of purpose, since you've already fulfilled it.

That brings me to another point of mine, The Infinity of Purpose. If purpose can be "fulfilled", is it really your purpose? That points towards the existence of a metaphorical death of the self, before biological death, which is quite absurd. Well, not really, but if the pursuit of purpose is a road to self-destruction, then that would be not so grand at all. I believe purpose is infinite, in that it is not something to be chased, but something to be lived, embodied in every day, every second, every moment of your existence. This is one of the factors you can take into consideration in your pursuit of purpose, to actually gauge if the purpose you've found is your true purpose.

But, however, I believe I've been looking at this wrong all along. Happiness does stem from contentment, but not contentment. Not the final, all consuming realisation that you've done everything you've wanted to, seen every place, and desire nothing more (which a man must feel only on his deathbed), but contentment in the fact that your present moment is full of mirth and joy and purpose.

AND THAT IS REALLY FUCKING COOL, because in that case true happiness comes from wholehearted fulfilment of purpose, for if you spend every moment fulfilling your purpose to the maximum extent of your capabilities, you are content. You are satisfied. And that synergy of happiness and purpose is something I find truly beautiful.