The Happiness We Miss

Sometimes the purest joy hides in the simplest places.

May 18, 2025

Hi, I'm Manuel Saez, 2x Founder, Award-Winning Designer, and Emotional Intelligence Coach 🌻 Here I Share the advice I wish I had while building my businesses ➜ I love fixing old motorcycles 🛵🏍️

When I was younger, I set out to climb a 10,000 ft. mountain deep in the wilderness of Argentina’s Andes.

At the summit, there was a lagoon I had read about, a hidden body of water where I wanted to swim.

There were no trails, no signs, no maps. Just me, the jungle, a mountain, and a sense of direction that felt strong enough to get me there.

And it did. The climb wasn’t easy, but it was straightforward. I could see my goal, the mountain I was going after, right in front of me the whole time. That made all the difference.

The way back was a different story.

Without the mountain to guide me, I wandered. The terrain all looked the same.

I thought I was making progress, only to realize I was walking in circles.

I was tired. Hungry. Alone. Disoriented.

I drank water from puddles in the jungle, but there was no food and no sense of which way was home.

After two days, I came across a clearing. A few cows grazed lazily on the edge of an open field. In the distance, I saw what looked like a house.

I walked toward it, hopeful.

It wasn’t a house. It was a shack, a small cattle ranching station. A dog barked at me from afar. Then a man stepped outside, whistled, and the dog quieted.

I must have looked exhausted. He didn’t ask too many questions. He simply waved me in.

Inside, there wasn’t much. A cot. A dirt floor. A shelf hanging crookedly from the wall. A table made from unfinished wood, with logs for chairs. I can still remember how it smelled: smoke, earth, and old metal.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I said yes.

He didn’t have much. Just a large onion, a can of red beans, and some red pepper flakes. He sliced the onion, added the beans, sprinkled the pepper, and handed me the bowl.

That dish is imprinted in my memory.

There was nothing fancy about it, just beans, an onion, and some red pepper. But in that moment, it felt like a feast. It’s the best salad I’ve ever had. The most delicious. The most satisfying.

To this day, I make it every now and then. But I have never been able to repeat the flavor and, more importantly, the immense feeling of joy and happiness I had while eating it the first time.

Looking back, that moment stands out as one of the happiest of my life.

The funny thing is, for most of my life, I believed happiness was something that came from having things: money, power, recognition.

But the truth is that the happiest moments I’ve ever had had nothing to do with any of that.

I’ve had incredible highs in my life. Milestones. Celebrations. Successes I never imagined I’d reach.

But some of the purest happiness I’ve ever felt didn’t come with trophies or applause.

It came in a shack in the middle of nowhere, with a stranger offering a meal.

And it’s in moments like this that I remind myself:

I don’t need to chase happiness. I just need to notice it when it’s already here.

Some of the happiest moments in life pass quietly.

If we’re not paying attention, we miss them.

Why We Miss Those Happy Moments

The problem isn’t that happiness is rare. It’s that it’s subtle. It hides in ordinary moments.

We often think happiness is the result of big events: the dream job, the perfect relationship, the trip of a lifetime.

But more often than not, it shows up in small, quiet bursts. And if we’re too focused on what’s next, we walk right past it.

We miss it when we’re rushing.

We miss it when we’re scrolling.

We miss it when we’re trying to capture the moment instead of living it. Being present.

How I Try to Catch Happy Moments

I don’t think happiness is a permanent state. I don’t think it’s supposed to be. It comes and goes like the wind.

But I do believe you can train yourself to notice it more often. And when you do, it tends to stick around a little longer.

Here’s what helps me:

1. Pay attention to what’s already here.
Not what’s missing. Not what’s next. Just what’s happening right now.
I ask myself, is there joy in this? Is there beauty in this?

2. Slow down when something feels good.
When I notice the feeling of happiness creeping in, I try not to rush past it.
I breathe. I stay with it. I try to remember what it smells like, what it sounds like, how it feels in my body.

3. Let the moment be enough.
I don’t ask it to last forever. I don’t need it to prove anything.
I let it pass through me, like sunlight on my face.
That’s all it needs to be.

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