Here’s how this “happiness requires trouble” conversation is going to go between us today:

1. We’re going to vent—but only for a minute because complaining is only cathartic for the first bit and then it just gets pissy. We don’t want a piss fest! If you want a piss fest I guess you could just go on X, and I wish you luck with your mood if you dwell there.
2. Then we’re going to get constructive.
3. And then we’re going to like our lives a little (or a lot) more.

We’ve talked before about how a good life requires us to give not just one shit, but two shits. Translation: effort must be made if we want a life worth living.

Here is where we vent:

When it comes to sucking the marrow out of the bone of life (thanks, Thoreau), why can’t the marrow just be readily available? Why can’t the marrow be served on a silver platter? Why do we have to suck so hard to get the marrow? UGHHHHH (in deserved caps).

👆And that was where the venting ended. The good life doesn’t have a high tolerance for prolonged whining, so we did it and we are moving on. No one ever said life would be a suck-free breeze.

This conversation expands on the “happiness requires effort” point. Specifically, we often have to go to some degree of trouble to enjoy life/ savor its marrow.

Trouble? That’s not an appealing word. But the phrase, “go to the trouble” does spotlight the sigh-inducing effort required to feel like life is getting lived, like life has meaning, like life is good-and-maybe-even-astonishing vs. just passing us by until we’re permanently reclined in the casket.

Before we go any further, here are some examples of going to the trouble:

• Going to the trouble of cooking a nice dinner, maybe even with cloth napkins
• Going to the trouble of buying and wrapping a thoughtful birthday gift or at least sending a card in the mail (in time for the birthday, not skidding in 4 days late)
• Going to the trouble of driving to the gym for the 6:30 class and finding parking and doing the class
• Going to the trouble of planning an itinerary for the trip, with outings and meals to look forward to
• Going to the trouble of calling your mostly senile grandmother
• Going to the trouble of learning how to knit, and then finishing the scarf
• Going to the trouble of playing on the floor with your kids
• Going to the trouble of planning a surprise for someone
• Going to the trouble of updating your resume so you can land a new job that’s >70% less hateable
• Going to the trouble of showing up at your friend’s not-for-profit gala thing
• Going to the trouble of doing your hair
• Going to the trouble of limiting your screen time (after breathing into a paper bag; it’s going to be okay)
• Going to the trouble of registering for a class, and then doing the homework for the class
• Going to the trouble of decorating for the holidays
• Going to the trouble of visiting your friend in a not-easy-to-travel-to place
• Going to the trouble of washing the windows, inside and out
• Going to the trouble of putting together a playlist that delights you to listen to
• Going to the trouble of throwing a cocktail party, maybe with actual invitations and cute little garnishes
• Going to the trouble of writing the book proposal and query letter to then send to a bunch of agents
• Going to the trouble of cleaning out your closet and driving the donation pile to Goodwill
• Going to the trouble of stopping a too-long list of examples

This notion of “going to the trouble” assumes there is a payoff that’s worth it. We’re not idiots: we’re not going to exert troublesome effort for no reason.

I have yet to meet a person who has felt worse after organizing a closet/ garage/ basement/ junk drawer. It is always a go-to-a-lot-of-trouble endeavor, and also? It is always relieving. Only you can decide if it’s worth it.

Is it possible you could go on vacation and still have a great time at the cavernous, empty, fluorescently lit hotel restaurant, because you didn’t go to the trouble of making reservations at that well-reputed Italian place in town? Sure! There might be some great mozzarella sticks with your name on them. But a mild bit of trouble ahead of time might have led you to a swoon-worthy carbonara with way better lighting. (Also, I have nothing against mozz stix.)

My morning phone calls with my dad go so much better if I go to the trouble of scanning the sports section first. I hate sports almost as much as I hate politics! But my dad likes to talk morosely about his catheter so if I can mention that I heard the Tigers made a big trade, the call will steer clear of urine talk and the odds of me hearing my dad use the word penis goes way down. (I liked it better when he referred to it as “his equipment” but Lord knows what I’ll say when dementia has its way with me 🫤.)

Sometimes the good life involves sacrifice. Going to the trouble of washing your windows might sacrifice a precious Saturday afternoon, but leave you feeling satisfied and better able to see the birds. Going to the trouble of driving a friend home from her biopsy might sacrifice your PTO, but leave you feeling even more connected to a friend in need.

“You don’t have to go to the trouble” is a line we use on other people, when they don’t have to go to the trouble of making us a gluten-free meal (😬), for example, or when they don’t have to go to the trouble of picking us up at the airport. Sometimes it’s a mild bother for people (oh geez, especially if they are driving to ORD) but it’s usually worth it because they feel good for demonstrating the “this relationship matters” kind of effort, for making you happy with a nice bowl of chickpea-flour pasta. It’s time to turn that notion inward on your own life—that it might not be convenient to go to any degree of trouble, but that it feels better than mailing it in.

And that’s what this comes down to, right? Going to the trouble vs. mailing it in. Isn’t a modicum of effort worth the payoff, rather than living a life defined by default? The default isn’t spectacular. Default, by definition, can never be spectacular. Going to the trouble ensures something better than average will ensue… maybe even something astonishing.