The Happiness Equation I Got Wrong

In my twenties, I had a formula for happiness. It was simple, elegant, and completely wrong.

Happiness = Achievement - Expectation

The math seemed obvious. If you achieve more than you expect, you’re happy.

What I didn’t realize is that very unconsciously I would pull down my happiness through another pathway

Achievement > Expectation = Lack of Ambition

I wanted to see myself happy and ambitious. I spent years optimizing this equation. I was unconsciously equating happiness to a lack of ambition.

My self-image, one that wanted to be ambitious, could not stand myself being happy.

However, this was not even the biggest problem!

The Problem with the Formula

The formula assumes happiness is a score. Something you calculate at the end of the day, the quarter, the year. Did I hit my targets? Did I exceed them? Let me check the spreadsheet.

But happiness doesn’t work like a bank account. You can’t accumulate it. You can’t save it for later. It exists only in moments—and most of those moments have nothing to do with achievement.

What Actually Made Me Happy

When I look back at my happiest moments, almost none of them involve hitting goals:

Afternoon tea conversations with my dad before he passed away. I still cherish sitting with him and mum and talking about life, childhood and getting to know them really.
A late-night walk in the streets of Istanbul having Kunefe and Shawarma with a friend.
A hike in Zurich with my wife with impending rain and no visible trail back to the base.
Or even simply watching the cherry tomatoes in my garden grow from the seeds I planted.

These moments share something: Being Present! I wasn’t calculating anything. I wasn’t comparing reality to expectations. I was just… there.

The New Equation (If There Is One)

I’ve stopped trying to optimize for happiness. Instead, I try to create conditions where it’s more likely to show up:

Presence over productivity. Happiness rarely arrives when I’m rushing.
Connection over achievement. The best moments usually involve other people.
Enough over more. At some point, additional achievement has diminishing returns on wellbeing.

The Tension with Ambition

Here’s what I haven’t figured out: how do you stay ambitious without falling back into the achievement trap?

I still want to build things that matter. I still want to grow, learn, contribute. But I’ve noticed that pure ambition—untethered from presence and connection—leads somewhere hollow.

Maybe the answer is what the Buddhists call “non-attachment to outcomes.” Work hard, care deeply, but hold the results loosely. I understand this intellectually. Living it is another matter.

These are the kinds of questions I explore in my writing. If they resonate, subscribe for updates or just say hello.