I have to confess that my life has never been about the search for happiness. I also have to confess that the first time I heard that idea was when I arrived in America at the age of 52 and someone asked me what made me happy. I had no idea. I had never thought about it. It was not what my life was about.

My life was about living responsibly and doing the right thing for teh greater good of humanity. And, yes, if everything I was aiming towards was achieved, I would, indeed be happy. I could then pursue my interests without feeling guilty that other things were left undone.

For instance, this morning I wanted to continue with my novel. Instead I read about all the rivers drying up, and it was more important to notify my Medium subscribers and those who wanted to know how we can move forward to protect ourselves from climate change.

I'm not unhappy, of course, although I do feel a bit hopeless with Covid. It means I can't do any of the things I enjoy, and there is no more making new friends in real life. That's particularly important because I've moved to new country.

And, yes, of course, Mill was right. One needs a mission to accomplish outside oneself, and one needs to be in a state of gratitude and enjoyment for the simple things in life - like cooking a meal, writing a story, cleaning the house, watching the birds. I do all of those things.

And just think. I worked it all out by myself. No great genius needed! :)