Category: Philosophy & Meaningful Living

  • What the 75-Year Harvard Study Reveals About Happiness

    What the 75-Year Harvard Study Reveals About Happiness

    What does it take to have a good life? Getting caught in the vicious cycle of owning a booming business, a respected career, a luxury vehicle, dream house? Constantly pushing harder and working towards a certain goal? Do these things really give us long-lasting happiness?  The main question is, what is that ‘one thing’ that keeps us happy and healthy as we travel through our journey of life?.

    Let’s understand the science behind true happiness and take wisdom from one of the longest longitudinal studies ever conducted by Harvard, ‘The Study of Adult Development.’ The study has been following two groups of men over the last 80 years to identify the psychosocial predictors of healthy aging.  Researchers have collected a cornucopia of data on their physical and mental health.

    It all started in 1938 during the Great Depression when scientists began tracking the health of 268 Harvard sophomores. They hoped the longitudinal study would reveal clues to leading healthy and happy lives.

    1 Secret to happiness: RELATIONSHIPS

    The revelation of the study was revealed by the director of the Study, Robert Waldinger, a psychiatrist at Massachusetts General Hospital and a professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, he said, “The surprising finding is that our relationships and how happy we are in our relationships have a powerful influence on our health, taking care of your body is important, but tending to your relationships is a form of self-care too. That, I think, is the revelation.”

    The study further revealed that our close relationships, more than money or fame, are the key element that keeps us going throughout our lives.  Close relationship ties protect us from life’s discontents, and anything that goes wrong in our lives, the close relationships only delay our mental and physical decline and are better predictors of long and happy lives than high social class, good  IQ, or even good genes.

    People who were satisfied with their relationships at the age of 50 were found to have better physical health.

    “It was how satisfied they were in their relationships. The people who were the most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest at age 80.” The director of the study said in a popular TED talk titled “What Makes a Good Life? Lessons from the Longest Study on Happiness” in 2015, and it has been viewed 13,000,000 times.

    “Loneliness Kills”

    Said Waldinger, “Loneliness Kills, It’s as powerful as smoking or alcoholism.”  Health and happiness don’t depend on the cholesterol level of the people but, “It was how satisfied they were in their relationships. The people who were the most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest at age 80.”

    He further said in the TED talk that People who kept warm relationships got to live longer and happier, and the loners often died earlier.

    According to the study, those who lived longer and enjoyed sound health avoided smoking and alcohol in excess. Researchers also found that those with strong social support experienced less mental deterioration as they age.

    In part of a recent study, researchers found that women who felt securely attached to their partners were less depressed and happier in their relationships two-and-a-half years later, and also had better memory functions than those with frequent marital conflicts.

    “It’s easy to get isolated, to get caught up in work and not remembering, ‘Oh, I haven’t seen these friends in a long time,’ ” Waldinger said. “So I try to pay more attention to my relationships than I used to.”

    Key to Healthy Aging

    “When the study began, nobody cared about empathy or attachment,” said Vaillant. “But the key to healthy aging is relationships, relationships, relationships.”

    Social connections 

    Waldinger said, “It turns out that people who are more socially connected to family, to friends, to the community are happier, they’re physically healthier, and they live longer than people who are less well connected.”

    On the contrary, keeping to yourself and experiencing loneliness is toxic. Waldinger points out that people can even feel lonely in a crowd of people or in their marriage.

    “People who are more isolated than they want to be from others find that they are less happy, their health declines earlier in midlife, their brain functioning declines sooner and they live shorter lives than people who are not lonely,” Waldinger explained.

    Conclusion

    Good and close relationships and a happy marriage can keep us happier and healthier. Period.

    About the Grant study

    The Grant Study is composed of 268 Harvard graduates from the classes of 1939-1944, and the Glueck Study group is made up of 456 men who grew up in the inner-city neighborhoods of Boston.  The study is particularly interested in what psychosocial variables and biological processes from earlier in life predict health and well-being in late life (80’s and 90’s), what aspects of childhood and adult experience predict the quality of intimate relationships in late life, and how late-life marriage is linked with health and well-being.  They are now beginning to study the children of our original participants in our G2 (Second Generation) study.

  • The mind is not a mirror; it is a paintbrush

    The mind is not a mirror; it is a paintbrush

    On Sundays, my house becomes a softer place. Light drips through the curtains like warm honey, the kettle hums its low morning song, and the world feels briefly negotiable. That particular Sunday, I sat alone in my study with a fresh cup of coffee and a new leather diary resting on the desk. The diary smelled of earth and winter—the kind of scent that whispers that beginnings never arrive loudly.

    When I opened it, the pages gave a faint rustle, like someone clearing their throat before speaking.
    Go on, they seemed to say.
    Tell the truth.

    I tried.

    I wrote about how, despite nothing in my life looking dramatically different from the year before, everything inside me had shifted in quiet, irreversible ways. Turning points don’t come with fanfare; they come disguised as normal days. I wrote down the small pivots that have shaped me—leaving cities, leaving people, falling in love, falling apart, rebuilding, losing again, learning the same lesson twice. Maybe three times.

    Life, I wrote, is not a series of events but a series of awakenings.

    I paused, letting the ink dry, and wondered why no one prepares us for the things that matter. We are taught how to add fractions, how to write topic sentences, how to shake hands firmly—but not how to hold sadness without drowning in it, or how to forgive ourselves after years of being our harshest critic. No one explains the architecture of the mind or the storms it can generate.

    I was lost in those thoughts when I heard the softest voice behind me.

    “Muma?”

    My son stood there, small and hopeful, holding his kindergarten book like an offering.

    “Will you read me a story?”

    It took only a second for the room to shift—the study dissolving into a memory of my father reading to me when I was his age. My father would make up stories out of thin air, weaving worlds where I was always the hero, always chosen, always enough. I lived inside those stories long after he closed the book. Some days, I still do.

    Back then, I carried my imagination like armor. I believed life would bend toward my desires simply because I felt them so intensely. For years, it worked. I manifested small miracles: the right opportunities, the right people, the right moments. I was buoyant, unburdened, almost enchanted.

    But enchantment has an expiration date.

    Sometime in my late twenties, the world began to weigh differently. Expectations thickened around me—career stability, financial sense, a partner, a plan, a future I could explain to others. My rose-colored glasses fogged over until the world grew grey at the edges.

    I lost myself in that grey.

    I didn’t break dramatically. I eroded quietly. One day I looked around and realized I no longer recognized my life or the woman living it. Loneliness settled in like a permanent tenant. The future felt too heavy to hold, and the past kept tugging at my sleeves.

    Around thirty, out of desperation more than devotion, I turned inward. Slowly. Awkwardly. Like someone relearning how to walk.

    I read obsessively—Yogananda on the soul, Abraham Hicks on thought, Joe Dispenza on mind, Julia Cameron on creativity, Aristotle on reason. They said the same thing in different languages:

    You shape your life from the inside out.
    The mind is not a mirror; it is a paintbrush.

    It wasn’t a single moment that changed me but the accumulation of small ones—breaths taken intentionally, thoughts paused before believed, pages written instead of swallowed.

    That Sunday morning, standing in my study with my son waiting beside me, I realized I wasn’t just holding his book. I was holding the opportunity to rewrite the story for both of us.

    “Come here,” I said, lifting him onto my lap.

    He settled in, warm and trusting, his head tucked under my chin. As I began to read, his small fingers traced the pictures as though he were entering the story himself.

    I thought about the things I wanted to pass down to him—not money or achievements or the illusion of perfection. But the skills that might save him one day: how to sit with fear, how to soften disappointment, how to listen to his body when his mind is loud, how to trust his inner world even when the outer one feels demanding and strange.

    As I read, he looked up at me and smiled in that unguarded way only children can. I pressed a kiss into his hair and felt something settle quietly inside me, something I hadn’t felt since girlhood.

    It was the return of color.
    Not the vibrant pink of old rose-colored glasses, but a new kind—soft, earned, real.

    After I tucked him in for his nap, I returned to my diary.
    The pages waited.

    This time, I wrote not about what I had lost, but about what I was learning to reclaim:
    my wonder,
    my inner steadiness,
    my ability to imagine possibilities before seeing proof of them.

    Some pages life turns for you.
    Some you turn yourself.
    And some, like this, you turn for the sake of someone who will one day read your story and find their own strength in the margins.

  • Does a Slower Life Make Us Happier?

    It’s a question that grows more relevant with each passing year — as our world accelerates, as expectations rise, and as we move through our days with a velocity that leaves little room to simply exist.

    Buddha’s timeless reminder — “Relax the mind and productivity will follow” — feels almost radical now. We strive for meaningful, fulfilling lives, yet forget that the best things unfold quietly, gradually, little by little. Mindfulness, in its simplest form, is a kind of walking meditation: to be truly present with what we are doing. And when we aren’t? We miss something essential — life itself.

    Søren Kierkegaard
    Søren Kierkegaard

    Why the Fast Life Makes Us Unhappy — Kierkegaard Saw It Coming

    “Of all ridiculous things,” Kierkegaard — a Danish philosopher, theologian, poet, and religious author, who is widely considered to be the first existentialist philosopher — wrote when contemplating our greatest source of unhappiness, “the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy—to be a man who is brisk about his food and his work.”

    In a world obsessed with speed, Kierkegaard’s words feel prophetic. Constant busyness doesn’t make life more meaningful; it fractures our attention, scatters our purpose, and creates the illusion that movement equals progress.

    Slowing down, on the other hand, creates flow. When we are absorbed in what we’re doing — meditating on a task, staying with it fully — our mind enters a state where ideas, insights, and creativity move freely. This is not laziness; it is alignment.

    Eckhart Tolle
    Eckhart Tolle

    Eckhart Tolle and the Ancient Art of Just Being

    Eastern traditions have practiced this for millennia: living in the natural rhythm of simply being. But the world’s greatest challenge lies in bridging the gap between knowing and doing — being aware of both at the same moment.

    The spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle, author of The Power of Now and A New Earth, captures the essence of our modern struggle: “In today’s rush, we all think too much, seek too much, want too much and forget about the joy of just being.”

    Slowing down is not a passive surrender; it is an intentional practice. Many high-performing leaders, entrepreneurs, and creatives now admit that slowing down is not optional — it’s essential. Not for productivity alone, but for a deeper appreciation of life and the kind of clarity that fast-living suppresses.

    Slowness, then, becomes a choice — one that must be made repeatedly, in every moment.

    In many cases, to lead a good life, most fast-paced leaders and entrepreneurs believe that slowing down is the key. For greater appreciation for life and a greater level of happiness, slowing down is a deliberate choice that we have to make every moment, which yield’s better results in one’s life endeavours.

    Sylvia Boorstein

    Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There: A Mindfulness Retreat with Sylvia Boorstein

     

    Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There: A Mindfulness Retreat with Sylvia Boorstein

    Modern humans are conditioned to overdo, overachieve, and, obviously, that is why most of them are depressed and anxious. This is what the great Buddhist teacher and psychotherapist Sylvia Boorstein talked about in her mindful retreat — “Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There:”

    “Slow is not better than fast. It’s just different. Everything changes, regardless of pace, and direct firsthand experience of temporality can happen while you are strolling just as much as while you are stepping deliberately and slowly. The speed-limit guide for mindful walking is to select the speed at which you are most likely to maintain attention. Shift up or down as necessary.”

    Thich Nhat Hanh and the Beauty of the Present Moment

    The father of teachings on mindfulness, Zen Master —Thich Nhat Hanh — a global spiritual leader, poet, and peace activist insist, “Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves–slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future. Live the actual moment.”

    Leading a mindful daily routine, being aware of our every action and reaction, every thought, and every word that we speak can add quality to our everyday life. Zen Master summed it up well when he said, “We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the Earth. Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.”

    Thich Nhat Hanh is a painting by Steve Simon which was uploaded on October 1st, 2014.
    Thich Nhat Hanh is a painting by Steve Simon which was uploaded on October 1st, 2014.

    Science Agrees: Slowing Down Changes the Brain

    Although mindfulness is rooted in ancient wisdom, the scientific community now validates what spiritual traditions long taught. Neuroplasticity — the brain’s ability to reorganize and grow — thrives when we are intentional and present.

    William James, in the late 19th century, captured the essence of neuroplasticity before the term existed: “Our brain can restructure itself based on our perception and experience.”

    Slowing down doesn’t hinder achievement — it refines it. A slower pace clarifies our desires, aligns thought with action, and strengthens the pathways that support long-term well-being.

    Kaveri Patel’s Poetic Reminder to Stop Running

    A mother, poet, teacher of mindfulness ideology, and a healer, Kaveri Patel describes beautifully in one of her poetry, what it’s like to slow down:

    Dear you, You who always have so many things to do… your mind spinning like fan blades at high speed… What if you closed your eyes? Would the world fall apart without you? Or would your mind become the open sky… as you just watched and smiled?

    Her words expose the exhaustion we carry — and the lie we tell ourselves that we must always be on, always ready, always doing.

    People who are aware of the benefits of slowing down, follow different mindfulness practices at least once during their day. Few like to meditate on every task at their hand, and most just like to be mindful only of the tasks they like to do.

    Rebecca Solnit
    Rebecca Solnit

    Rebecca Solnit: Walking as a Philosophy of Life

    Rebecca Solnit, Buddhist thinker and author of Wanderlust: A History of Walking, offers a simple insight with profound implications: “I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour.”

    If that’s true, then modern life is moving far faster than thoughtfulness can keep up with. Solnit advocates for preserving time and space to walk — not only for the sake of health, but for the preservation of imagination and presence.

    She describes the magic of walking as a union of motion and mindfulness: “Walking is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned… three notes suddenly making a chord.”

    To walk is to move without rushing — to arrive without hurrying.

    Slowness Is Not a Luxury — It’s a Practice

    Mindful living or slowing down is not about occasional escapes or taking vacations. It is about showing up fully in the everyday:

    Taking a bath. Preparing food. Answering an email. Speaking a word. Making a choice.

    It means focusing on one thing at a time instead of fracturing yourself across many. It means reclaiming the attention that modern life is constantly stealing from you.

    And most of all, it means living — fully, deliberately — rather than rushing through the very life you are trying to enjoy.