Photo by Kyle Loftus on Unsplash
We hear it everywhere — “Enjoy life.” It sounds simple, but when you really ask what it means, most people hesitate. They chase pleasure, comfort, or status — yet often feel restless or unfulfilled.
So, what does enjoying life truly mean?
Let’s step away from motivational quotes and explore a deeper model:
Enjoyment = Balance (Values, Neurochemistry, Mindfulness)
Enjoyment isn’t about non-stop excitement or indulgence. It’s about a steady inner state — a peace that arises when your values, biology, and awareness are in harmony.
When you act in line with your values, you experience a peace that can’t be found through shortcuts. It’s quiet, stable, and deeply satisfying.
Are values fixed? No. They evolve through your roles and experiences — as a student, a friend, a child, and most importantly, as a human being.
You set your values by understanding your duties. And as the Bhagavad Gita says:
“Act without attachment to outcomes — when you cling, you suffer.”
Acting according to your values isn't easy. I struggle with it, too. But as the Gita teaches:
“Better to fail at your own dharma than succeed in another’s.” (3.35)
Suffering may still come, but it becomes meaningful — and that changes everything.
Dopamine once helped us survive — pushing us to solve problems and finish meaningful tasks.
Today, we live in a world of cheap dopamine:
Even in relationships, we often chase the dopamine high of attention or novelty — not genuine connection.
But dopamine can be used wisely. I’ve seen it myself.
I once turned brooming into a challenge — how fast could I finish it? Suddenly, I was playing.
When I solve a math problem, I approach it like a mystery. Curiosity becomes the engine. Dopamine becomes clean and earned.
Do I still fall into cheap dopamine loops? Yes.
But knowing the trap gives me a path to climb out.
We can change. Not perfectly, but progressively.
We don’t talk enough about how addictions like alcohol and smoking hijack our reward system.
These things offer quick pleasure — but leave your mind dull, body dependent, and soul distant from clarity.
They aren’t “bad” because they’re immoral — they’re destructive because they steal your stability and replace it with fragile highs.
Enjoyment built on these habits becomes a cycle of suffering. These addict's justify the addiction by saying there is only one life but they don't know they are just extending suffering .
Oxytocin evolved to help us bond — in families, tribes, relationships. It makes presence feel safe and belonging feel real.
Today, we confuse oxytocin with obsession. We chase people for attention. We cling. We expect. And when those expectations aren’t met — we suffer again.
I still struggle here. But I’ve learned this:
Real connection comes from selfless clarity — not dependency.
You don’t have to abandon people.
You build relationships that support your purpose, not fight against it.
Give without clinging. Love with awareness. Serve without losing yourself.
Serotonin doesn’t shout like dopamine or pull like oxytocin — it whispers. It’s the chemical of inner stability and contentment.
From an evolutionary standpoint, serotonin helped us feel secure within our roles in a tribe. It gave us a sense of “I belong,” “I’m doing something right,” without needing applause or adrenaline.
Even today, serotonin rises not when you chase rewards — but when you live rightly.
You feel it when:
Serotonin is the reward your soul gives you for living with alignment.
As the Gita says:
“He who is content with whatever comes by grace, free from envy… attains peace.” (4.22)
You don’t need serotonin spikes. You need serotonin stability.
Not highs, but grounding.
Not dopamine’s fireworks but the warm lamp of knowing you did the right thing.
What is mindfulness?
Short answer: living in the present moment.
But fundamentally, it’s about bringing your full awareness to now — not being lost in the mind’s autopilot.
Let’s take a simple act — washing dishes.
Pick up the scrubber. Feel its texture. Scrub the surface of the plate slowly. Notice the sound, the motion, the coldness of the water. Give these instructions consciously to your mind. You’re not just washing a dish — you’re training your attention.
Or let’s say you’re eating lunch.
Instead of rushing through, pause. Feel the warmth of the food, the texture on your tongue, the movement of your jaw. Chew it consciously — not just as an act of eating, but as an act of living.
Mindfulness turns ordinary moments into sacred ones.
But why be mindful at all?
Because when we live on autopilot — as most of us do — our bodies keep moving, but our minds wander.
And a wandering mind becomes a breeding ground for overthinking.
It clings to the past. It imagines the worst of the future. It drowns us in thoughts that were never meant to be ours.
In that storm, we lose our stillness.
We lose our clarity.
We lose ourselves.
Mindfulness is how we return — again and again — to the truth that this moment is all we really have.
Even after reflecting on everything—values, dopamine, presence—I know one thing clearly:
Knowing is not the same as living.
There are days when I forget everything I’ve written here.
Days when I scroll mindlessly, lose awareness, or attach myself to things I know are temporary.
Days when my mind is loud, my body tired, and my thoughts hijacked.
And in those moments, I feel like I’ve failed.
But I’m learning that this, too, is part of the process.
You don’t become a mindful, balanced person overnight.
You return to it again and again — after distractions, after emotion, after exhaustion.
One thing that helps me is keeping anchors throughout the day. Simple reminders:
Turning tasks into small games, so I enjoy the effort.
Pausing before reacting, especially when angry or impulsive
Sitting in silence, even if just for 3 minutes.
Even my failures teach me something.
They show me where I’m still attached, still avoiding, still pretending.
And slowly, that awareness becomes strength.
Enjoyment, I’ve realized, isn’t a moment. It’s a direction.
If I can keep walking toward clarity, curiosity, and presence —
even with all my flaws — I am enjoying life.
Not because it’s perfect.
But because I’m awake inside it.
Conclusion: The Real Meaning of Enjoying Life
So — what does it truly mean to enjoy life?
It’s not about chasing momentary highs or escaping discomfort.
It’s not about becoming numb with entertainment or filling silence with noise.
True enjoyment is the result of a conscious life — one that honors your values, balances your biology, and awakens you to the present.
It’s when you act with honesty, even if it’s hard.
It’s when you turn small actions into mindful experiences.
It’s when you fall, fail, repeat — but keep choosing awareness over autopilot.
Yes, I still struggle.
Yes, I still fall into loops of overthinking, attachment, and cheap dopamine.
But I return. I reflect. I realign.
Because now, I know what enjoyment is not — and that’s already a kind of clarity.
The Bhagavad Gita teaches us that action done without attachment is the gateway to freedom.
Science teaches us that balance, not stimulation, creates long-term happiness.
And life itself teaches us that fulfilment comes when you stop pretending and start participating.
Enjoyment isn’t somewhere outside.
It’s built, moment by moment, inside — through awareness, presence, and purpose.
So the next time you hear “enjoy life,”
don’t rush toward a thrill.
Pause.
Breathe.
Choose to live it — with depth, with honesty, and with balance.
That is what it truly means to enjoy life.