Everybody wants to live a good life. This is the first principle of practical reasoning: the good should be desired, and evil should be avoided. That one should believe any differently is, in my view, out of the question. If someone asks why this is so, the conversation is best avoided for the simple reason that it’s almost certain that they themselves do not truly believe any differently. (And why should someone engage in philosophy with someone who argues dishonestly?) So, the desirability of the good is beyond a doubt, as that is what we are all trying to achieve throughout our lives. Even the suicide, someone who tragically gives up on life, presumably believes that what they are doing is preferable (i.e., more good) to the alternative. Of course, how exactly we pursue the good will differ wildly from person to person, from culture to culture, and this is the far better question: what do we mean by good, and how can such a life achieved?

In the generalist of terms, what we generally mean by “good life” is a fulfilling one: we don’t want something as basic as a fleeting joy or pleasure. We want to flourish. We want to feel like our life is complete, as though everything is set in the right place. And we set all sorts of goals and nourish all kinds of dreams about how this might happen: a fulfilling career, a loving marriage, kids, to see the world, or to solve some problem.

Of course, this presents a problem. Some time ago, I was having a conversation when someone spoke about how they “couldn’t wait” to someday be married, and I told them that when they’re married, the next thing they’ll look forward to is kids. And when they have kids, they’ll look forward to getting them through school, and when that’s done, what’s next? They may even lament missing out on life because they were entirely focused on the next big thing, and this is the issue with these dreams and goals we set ourselves: we can spend so much time focused on the future, thinking that our life will “begin” or “be complete” when we’ve accomplished these things, but the fact is that our lives began the day we were born. There is always something we could look forward to, but this is not guaranteed, and so what of the present—which coincidently also means “gift”—that is?

I was reminded of this conversation recently when I read a short essay written by Carl Rogers, who is known for his person-centred psychotherapy. In this essay, entitled “A Therapist’s View of the Good Life”, he succinctly argues that “the good life is a process, not a state of being”. Perhaps this idea sounds revolutionary to you—it certainly revolts against our culture, which is hell-bent on achievements and medals and becoming an icon of success—but the truth is that what he said is nothing new. Through the modern practice of psychotherapy, Rogers has observed what the saints and sages of long ago had realised: that there is a pithy divorce between good conduct and good outcomes, and as such, the good life cannot be relegated to some category of achievement. The good life is one which is lived well, whatever the outcome. This is a basic insight, but in our world, perhaps we need that reminder.

I’m not going to lecture you on what I think it means to live well. I will defer the question to your own conscience. But as a guiding question, I will ask you, how do you intend to live well now, in this moment, which is all you are guaranteed? A person can spend their whole life chasing after something, and perhaps they will catch it, and perhaps it will make them happy. But there will always be the question of “what next?” that will falsely promise the fullness of joy you’ve been hoping for. You can spend your life this way, if you wish—and indeed, I do not mean to discourage anyone from having dreams or goals, since I certainly have some of my own—but if a life is devoted entirely to this pursuit, you will never find that priceless peace or happiness. It’s a bit cliché, but it doesn’t hurt to live in the moment. After all:

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Ferris Bueller