I was the happiest I’d ever been…

Just before leaving to go away on a 3 week holiday, my happiness was at levels I’d not seen before. Work has been great, relationships are deep and nourishing, and I’m feeling physically and emotionally solid. I’d been feeling secure in myself for a while.

Those that follow my work will know that each day I rate how happy I’m feeling. I’ve been doing this for about 6 years, and I can confirm that life is an emotional rollercoaster and that when it is good, it never stays good. Just as when it’s bad, it never stays bad…

This means that my role is mostly about being aware and witnessing the experience, focusing on what’s important (guided by intuition, research, and generally doing the opposite of what is suggested in the adverts), and tweaking a few things within my control to soften both the highs and lows.

My daily happiness score averaged 8.7 out of 10 just before I went away. And so, as I boarded the aeroplane, reneging on a pledge I made just under 5 years ago to not fly for at least 5 years (I was 6 months shy), I began to wonder about what would happen to my happiness scores and whether from a happiness perspective it would be worth it…

But by the looks of the graph, it seems that it might not have been…

But where to? And why?

The last time I saw my brother was just under 5 years ago. We’ve always been close and although we speak most weeks, I’ve missed him. He has been working in Indonesia for the last 5 years and has settled on the island of Lombok. He was about to get married to a local Sasak woman and after a little deliberation I thought that joining them for their wedding ceremony seemed a fair reason to renege prematurely on my non-flying pledge. I wanted to make the most of the travel and build a holiday around their ceremony.

Without doubt, my favourite part of the trip, which happened a week into the trip, was witnessing my brother get married. To see him making a solid commitment to the woman he loves filled me with a deep joy. It was a beautiful ceremony in the Sasak tradition, and I now have a new sister.

Whilst away I also celebrated my birthday, and it was the best birthday I’ve ever had. Not only was the day spectacular, hanging out with my partner and mother, who both came along for the trip, but in the evening, when my brother joined us for dinner, it struck me that I was sat with the three most important people in my life. And as we all held hands I said so, which brought both tears of joy and happiness to the table. These are the golden moments of life.

Then there were the turtles and the fish. I’ve not snorkelled much before but there are some sublime spots in Lombok, and I took to the seas many times to be mesmerised by the colourful worlds below the surface. I spent hours flipping from coral to coral as hundreds of fish swam by me. I saw turtles of all different sizes too.

On land, I climbed mountains, sat on beaches, and trekked my way through vegetation to peer at waterfalls. I saw the sun rise and fall many times, and the moon once or twice too. Occasionally I would sit with a deep resounding joy in my heart, breath it all in, and feel thankful for everything I have in my life.

We can’t always be high

Yet, on any holiday, and in any life, there are always challenges. Plus, there is the plain mundane. It’s pretty common to gloss over difficult things – pushing them away in the moment only to have them bite back later or even forgetting about them entirely when we’re trying to convince ourselves that the holiday, or some experience we had, was worth it. I’ve done it, and you do it. Memory, as I’ve written about before, is a slimy thing. Which is one reason why I track my happiness. So, I can get a realistic sense of my actual experience, rather than through the lens of my distorted memory. Often, I’ll learn something about myself that helps with making a different decision next time that might bring a deeper fulfilment. Failing that, it just reminds me of my fallibility – not only that I am not happy all the time, but that I can’t be, nor do I need to be.

It was no surprise to me, hardened traveller that I am, that my anxiety would shoot up from travelling. It wasn’t so bad to begin with. Not just because the first few days were pre-planned, but for the majority of the time at the beginning I sat by the pool, read a bit, fiddled on my phone for another bit, then I’d maybe go for a dip, and then repeat. Not exactly fulfilling, but there was nothing to worry about either. But in seeking adventure and fulfilment comes an uncertainty and that often piques my anxiety. However, so does drinking too much coffee.

Beautiful as it was to sit with a coffee that had been grown from just around the corner, and feel conscious, alive, and grateful, I indulged too much with an “I’m holiday, so why not?” kind of attitude. But I know coffee, if not tempered, drives up my anxiety, and with that increased anxiety comes a desire for more coffee, believing it to solve the original anxiety. Classic addiction.

Coffee wasn’t the only thing I over-indulged in – too much phone, too much air conditioning, and too much cake. I also didn’t do the things that I’d normally do to nourish myself each day back home. I didn’t meditate in the morning. I didn’t take as much care to stay hydrated. Nor did I always eat well or exercise. Simple things. But things that I typically do to keep my body and mind well-regulated and happy.

Letting go of my needs

I also put my needs aside to ensure others were comfortable. My brother had a lot going on in the build-up to his wedding and I did my best to be solid for him. My Mum has not travelled very much in her life and wouldn’t have made the journey on her own. She needed support, not just to make the long journey to Lombok, but for most of the time whilst there. We stayed in places that ensured her physical comfort. That felt important to do and I’m not grumbling, but they were places I wouldn’t typically stay in. Fancy pools and excellent service, but not arenas for authentic human connection.

And our travel around Lombok was mostly by car. As we drove along coastlines and up winding hills, I would look out the car window and feel sad that I was not on my bicycle feeling all there was to physically feel and at liberty to move at my own speed.

And then there is the danger of expectation. On the whole they were minimal, except for the high hopes I had about climbing the islands volcano Mount Rinjani – a staggering 3,726 metres high. I’d normally find a lot of peace high in the mountains – but not on this occasion. I hadn’t anticipated I’d be one of 500 tourists (plus all their porters and guides) trying to climb it that day. The trash at the 2,800 metre high base camp was a saddening sight. And so, out of respect for the mountain and the recognition that happiness is not bound up in achievement, I did not even attempt to summit. Instead, I hung out on the crater witnessing the frenzy of people that were trying to do so that day.

To travel with purpose, or why bother?

It was about the time of this mountain experience that my happiness took its tumble. In addition to the cumulation of not feeling quite fulfilled, I’d been pondering about the sustainability of travel – not just as to whether I would be able to justify my own travel from a personal happiness perspective (it seems it wasn’t – especially when considering the aftermath – see the graph), but whether personal happiness is purpose enough to travel in the first place (I don’t think it is). I’ve known, ever since taking to the world on the bicycle, that there is just as much, if not more, potential for transcendent moments on our doorsteps as anywhere else.

Nonetheless I decided to travel. I justified it to myself, and I stepped in with full awareness of the decision that much of the holiday was to support my family – my Mum and my brother; that I would have the opportunity to connect with my brother’s new wife and her family; and that the holiday would come to mean something beyond my personal happiness. And it did all those things.

The time I spent with my brother and his wife will serve our relationship well in the coming years. Even if our relationship remains mostly digital, I’ll understand things about their life much more quickly. The same goes for the relationship with my Mum – there is a new understanding and respect for one another that I’m grateful for.

Happiness is a dynamic process. Often it will not feel good now, and that is why it is vital to root our experiences in a deeper purpose. Whilst I feel grateful to have the opportunity to journey afar, I know I didn’t need this specific holiday and might have been happier staying in Scotland. My life is nourishing, I’ve made some hard choices to make it so, but this small trip meant something beyond myself, as all journeys and decisions must.

So maybe, just maybe, it was worth it…

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Thanks for reading my blog post.

If you’d like to read more articles about tracking happiness, and potentially learning to do so yourself, then read similar articles here.

If you’d like to go even deeper into happiness, then why not order my book – A Journey For Happiness: The Man Who Cycled to Bhutan.