I often wonder, what exactly is happiness?

——Original journal by Little Golden Treasure

At 1-2 years old, happiness for me was not needing injections.
At 2-5 years old, happiness was still very simple—no medicine, no injections.
Back then, I didn’t understand much, only knew I was afraid of pain and suffering, and these two things were the hardest parts of childhood.

By age 5, I started kindergarten and have clear memories.
Happiness began to become less pure.
I started learning Pinyin, I remember my mom teaching me “a, o, e,” and I would fall asleep while reading.
Back then, happiness probably meant not being called to wake up to continue studying.

From age 5 to 12 in elementary school,
Happiness turned into those short 10-minute breaks between classes.
Even just sitting in my seat and daydreaming was the most relaxed, free moment of the day.

At 13, I entered middle school.
At this stage, happiness became a bit “more concrete”—
Having a good teacher was happiness;
Having three or five close friends who couldn’t be separated or fought over was happiness;
Having a healthy, sun-like attitude was even more happiness.
Because that period really influences a person for a long, long time.

Between 16-18 years old,
Happiness reverted to the childhood feeling of “longing for time.”
But this time, even time didn’t belong to me.
The few minutes waiting in line for the bathroom became a rare breath of relief.
This was no longer simple childhood joy, but a small gap between physiology and pressure.

That summer at 18, before entering university—
That might have been the purest, most relaxed period of happiness in life.
Carefully packing luggage, buying clothes, buying bedding, full of anticipation for the future.
My mind was filled with university life from TV dramas: sunshine, friends, love, freedom.
But after actually starting university, I realized reality was a bit disappointing.
There weren’t as many stories, nor as much romance.
Most people’s four years were just classroom, dormitory, library—on a routine.
You gradually understand that so-called “outstanding people”
are actually all competing from the same starting line, because you all got into the same university with similar scores.
And those dazzling romances—many outstanding opposite-sex peers—were mostly already prearranged in high school.

Graduating at 22, life begins to diverge:
Some take civil service exams, some find jobs, some start businesses, some rely on their parents.
Most choose to find their own path.
Happiness at this point becomes very practical—
Rent a clean, affordable place close to work,
Have a job with weekends off and social insurance and housing fund,
And if you’re lucky enough to meet someone you love,
That’s almost everyone’s “ideal life.”

A few years later, at 25 or 26,
The gaps start to widen.
Some get married and have children, others remain single;
Some’s careers take off, others stay stuck;
Some start businesses and go into debt, others thrive in e-commerce;
Some fail civil service exams three years in a row, others have already secured stable jobs.
Some have many close confidantes, others are spoiled by powerful figures.
At this point, you realize—
If a person isn’t frequently mentioned,
chances are, everyone is living pretty much the same.

Approaching 30,
You begin to ask yourself again:
What am I really still pursuing?
Those who have settled down are burdened by mortgage, car loan, bride price;
Those who haven’t are also pushed forward by reality.
It seems that throughout life, we keep adding pressure to ourselves,
and then forcing ourselves to grow.

So, happiness gradually becomes very simple—
It’s no longer about how much you own, but:
being able to live peacefully,
sleeping soundly and relaxed,
sleeping until dawn without disturbance.
And perhaps, at that moment, a good night’s sleep is the simplest, most genuine happiness most people pursue in their lifetime.
Because when the heart is free of worries, nothing else really matters much.