Is happiness worth it? The case for hedonism

I recently had the best day of my life – and I’ve got a bone to pick.

Now the immediate post-wedding glow has faded, I’m still confident it was my personal high-water mark of experiences.

We made some pretty big promises, my husband and I. And we meant them.

All my favourite people were there; everyone ate, drank, danced and talked absolute rubbish.

I watched my grandparents dance hand-in-hand after decades of marriage and saw my niece revel as her mum (my baby sister) swung her about on the dance floor, just like I did with her when she was small.

My mum, best mate and baby brother gave the most beautiful speeches and said things that will warm my heart forever.

We got to catch up with loved ones who live far away and find out the old magic of friendship was still alive.

I’ve never laughed and smiled so much in my life.

We walked around in a euphoric bubble for at least a week afterwards – any little thing that reminded us of the big day could make us cry happy tears.

But if you read scientific studies about happiness, it was all a big waste of time and money.

In happiness research, there’s the idea of the “happiness baseline,” which is how happy you are, on average, day to day.

We also distinguish between two types of happiness – bear with me here – hedonia and eudaimonia.

Hedonic happiness is the kind of big bursts of happiness we might get from partying or buying a new surfboard or getting a raise at work (or attending a wedding).

Because we’re adaptable creatures, after these events our baseline levels of happiness tend to return to normal (or lower, if you made a particular idiot of yourself at the party).

Eudaimonia is the sense of contentment and flourishing you get when you’re doing things like living life in accordance with your values, taking care of yourself and others and pursuing meaningful goals.

It’s thought to contribute more to our baseline happiness.

Hedonic happiness is often villified – what’s the point in happiness that doesn’t last?

Chasing it is called “being on the hedonic treadmill”.

It’s associated with shallow materialism and addiction, while pursuing eudaimonia through nature walks, gratitude journals and the like is held up as the gold standard.

So here’s the thing – I think the hedonic treadmill has been unfairly maligned.

I think we need a bit of both kinds of happiness to thrive.

My wedding day was the happiest day of my life, and I don’t want to be that happy all the time – or even most of the time.

I couldn’t function if I teared up every time I saw a carnation.

I think I’d be a terrible friend and family member if I was sitting around feeling euphoric, with no room to accommodate other people’s emotions or experiences.

But I’d also struggle if I knew, for a certainty, I’d never feel that kind of overwhelming joy ever again.

I’d struggle if I couldn’t look forward to the occasional night out with my friends, the odd impulse buy, or a win at work.

I don’t need those things to individually move the dial on how I feel day-to-day, but I think the accumulation of them does.

I know I wouldn’t have experienced the wedding high I did without a solid base.

My husband and I didn’t get to have an awesome wedding because we chucked heaps of money at it, or drank heavily.

We had an amazing day because we spent it with people we’ve built deep relationships with, who we’ve shared ups and downs with.

We had an amazing day because we were all able to share how grateful we are for one another, reaffirm our values, and celebrate a milestone together.

We got to enjoy our hedonic party as a high point – which is exactly what it’s meant to be.

You can’t tell me that’s not true happiness.