The third full week of January is designated “Hunt for Happiness Week,” a time set aside for self-reflection on how we define happiness and what we can do to achieve it in the long run. Many individualistic cultures center on an individual’s pursuit of happiness, but I’d like to propose a different goal.

In Choice Theory psychology, William Glasser, M.D. distinguishes between pleasure and happiness. Pleasure tends to be fleeting, often tied to particular moments—events, acquisitions, and so on—while happiness flows from having lasting, supportive relationships in one’s life. By this definition, I’ve certainly experienced both pleasure and happiness, and I wouldn’t refuse either. But if forced to choose only one for the rest of my life, I’d pick happiness.

Over time, though, I no longer see happiness as the pinnacle of life. While I embrace happy moments, I’ve come to value contentment even more. Because I believe in balance, whenever something brings me immense happiness, I’m fairly certain it will be followed by a disappointment equally intense—at the very least, there will be some loss or sacrifice paired with the happiness.

Contentment, on the other hand, comes from a deep trust that everything ultimately works out for the greater good. We’re not in control of everything; there’s something bigger at play allowing events to unfold. Even in painful circumstances, there are gifts, lessons, opportunities, and wisdom waiting for those affected. I often remind myself of a mantra from 2021, introduced to me by Scott D’Alterio:

“Nothing happens to me; everything happens for me.”

You may not see it in the midst of pain—especially if that pain is severe—but, in time, if you look carefully, you’ll find benefits hidden in the hardship.

Rather than riding the rollercoaster of pleasure, pain, and happiness, I choose to hunt for contentment. Pleasure, pain, and happiness are mostly driven by external events—things I can’t fully control. If my ultimate target is happiness, I’m like a cat chasing its tail, relying on the external world to line up just right. And when it doesn’t, I experience pain and lose my shot at the happiness I’m seeking.

Contentment, however, is something we can cultivate internally. If contentment is my goal, I just ask myself:

“How do I need to perceive this so I can feel content?”

Take the weather as an example. Most people feel happy when it’s a warm, sunny day. But what if it’s cold and gloomy? Does that mean we must be unhappy? Not if it’s contentment we’re after.

You can look at a cold, overcast day and think, “I’m grateful for this cozy, warm space. Plus, with weather like this, I can focus on my project without the temptation to be outside.” It’s all about reframing your perspective.

When we rely on another person for our happiness, we’re only happy so long as that relationship goes smoothly. But what if the other person decides they no longer want a relationship? We might be devastated, believing we’ll never be loved again. Yet if contentment is the focus, we can look within for new ways to understand this disappointment. Maybe we realize we never want to hold someone hostage in a relationship they don’t want. Perhaps time alone can help us process what went wrong, see if we’d like to make any changes in ourselves, and clarify what we truly want in our next partnership.

I haven’t endured the catastrophic loss of my entire home, but I did experience a minor flood. It wasn’t pleasant, and I’d rather it never happened. Still, in a spirit of contentment, I recognized a silver lining: my homeowner’s insurance covered some new furniture and carpet.

Ultimately, we have choices. We can dwell on the painful parts of life or join the hunt for happiness. Personally, though, I’d rather let happiness find me while I actively cultivate contentment. What will your choice be?