My birthday was last week. I’ve always had trouble celebrating, not because I fear getting older, but because, well, what exactly is so special about having a birthday? Literally everybody in the world has one every single year.

Maybe you think this is weird, in which case, you are normal. But maybe you think this is normal, in which case you are weird, like me. If so, you probably fall prey to a common but insidious type of thinking: you prefer to be special rather than happy.

That’s our topic today.

Mrs. B made me this beautiful blueberry pie for my birthday, and the whole family came to celebrate. Unfortunately, I had a touch of the stomach flu, so I just sat there and watched as my ne’er-do-well kids and grandkids devoured it right in front of me. The whole situation was like the disturbing last scene from “A Clockwork Orange.” But involving pie.

Though it isn’t a conventional medical addiction, for many people, specialness in the form of winning or success has addictive properties. To a certain extent, I mean that literally—praise stimulates the neurotransmitter dopamine, which is implicated in all addictive behaviors.¹

But success also resembles addiction in its effect on human relationships. People sacrifice their links with others for their truest love, success. They travel for business on anniversaries; miss Little League games and recitals while working long hours. Some forgo marriage for their careers—earning the appellation of being “married to their work”—even though a good marriage brings more happiness than any job.

Success addicts trying to kick their habit experience withdrawal as well. Research finds that depression and anxiety are common among elite athletes after their careers end; Olympic athletes, in particular, suffer from the “post-Olympic blues.”² I saw this withdrawal all the time in my years as the president of a think tank in Washington, D.C., a city in which prominent people in politics and media would step back from the limelight and suffer greatly.

Very little kids unselfconsciously pursue happiness over specialness in ordinary delights. For example, here is my grandson, bonding with his affectionate pet lizard Steve. Steve knows many tricks, like sitting on a stick, eating a cricket, and sitting on a stick.

If you recognize a need to get free from the curse of sacrificing your happiness on the altar of specialness—if you are addicted to success—here are three ideas to consider.

  1. Say it out loud: “I will never find true happiness by forgoing my happiness.” I recommend repeating this phrase meditatively, because no matter how uncomfortable it is, it’s true. It will help you break the habit of worshipping hard work and striving to outperform others. Social comparison is a big part of how people measure worldly success, but the research is clear that it strips us of life satisfaction.³
  2. Start showing up to life. Have a habit of missing the ballet recital for the tedious board meeting? Well, that’s in the past, and you can start making amends by changing your future. With relationships, actions speak louder than words, so the next time your work and life are in conflict, show up to life.
  3. Redefine success. If you measure yourself only by the worldly rewards of money, power, and prestige, you’ll spend all your life comparing yourself to others. It’s time to redefine success by the intensity of love in your life; by the strength of your religious or philosophical life; and by how your work serves others—not by the worldly rewards you’ve earned.

See you next week,

Arthur

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P.S. We’re doing some building behind the scenes and looking for a few key people to join our team, including an Executive Operations Associate. If you possess the hyper-efficient, "think three steps ahead" logistics mastery of The Devil Wears Prada, but your heart is pure Ted Lasso, we want to hear from you. You can view this role and our other open positions here.

References​
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[1] Sugawara, S. K., Tanaka, S., Okazaki, S., Watanabe, K., & Sadato, N. (2012). Social rewards enhance offline improvements in motor skill. PloS one, 7(11), e48174.

[2] Howells, K., & Lucassen, M. (2018). ‘Post-Olympic blues’–The diminution of celebrity in Olympic athletes. Psychology of Sport and Exercise, 37, 67-78.

[3] Easterlin, R. A. (2003). Explaining happiness. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 100(19), 11176-11183.

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