On my tour of Brandeis in April of  2021, one of the most notable points  my tour guide shared was that double  majors - even triple - are not uncommon  amongst Brandeis students. This quickly  proved to be true, as many of my friends  and peers picked up two majors and  multiple minors, seemingly raising the  major:student ratio far beyond 1:1. After  my first summer, updates of successful  internship endeavors flooded my LinkedIn  feed and many of my peers would — and  still do — share their academic accolades  on social media. In our goal-centric world  as students, we commonly thrive on the  pursuit and accomplishment of success,  yet how often does one acknowledge that  these traditional markers of academic and  professional victory only amount to so  much success? 

I’ve seen so many of my peers’  stuffed resumes; they’re Teaching  Assistants, Undergraduate Departmental  Representatives, Research Assistants,  interns, presidents of clubs and volunteers  all at once. I’ll admit, it’s cast a shadow  of doubt over my own future; have I been  adequately preparing as much as I should  have? But when I reflect holistically upon  my life, I have come to realize two things:  first, the moments that have brought  me the most sustained happiness and  contentment have not been professional  or success-based. Secondly, the happiest  people in my life are not the ones who have  resumes packed with academic accolades  and career milestones; they are the ones  who chose to prioritize connection, love  and joy.  

These are the most enduring sources of  fulfillment; after a lot of deliberation, I’ve  come to believe that our goal on Earth is  not to accumulate an ever-expanding list of  accomplishments, but to simply be happy.  That’s always my answer when anyone  raises the question, “What is the purpose  of life?” To enjoy it, of course.  

There are certainly two polarized sides  to this concept, however. My mother  speaks to one; as a former high school  valedictorian educated at both Harvard  University and Stanford University, I  shudder to think of what her resume at  the time of her undergraduate education  would look in comparison to mine. On  paper, she is the epitome of success, yet  when I ask her what brings her the most  joy and pride, her answer is never her  career or her academics. Instead, she  speaks of the friendships she has nurtured over the years, the love she shares with  her family, trips to the beach, and quiet  moments in the backyard she has carefully  cultivated over the last 15 years. 

This isn’t to say that professional  or academic accomplishments aren’t  valuable. They provide us with structure,  meaning, and, to many, joy. But when we  measure our worth solely by these eternal  standards, we lose sight of the fact that  these accomplishments are fleeting. Titles,  awards and paychecks can come, go and  evolve, but the relationships we build  and the love we have to give are far more enduring.  

In college, especially, the pressure to  succeed can be overwhelming to many;  we’re taught to believe that if we work  hard enough, we’ll eventually achieve  happiness — once we get the perfect  job, earn a certain income, or receive  validation from our peers. I’d like to argue  that this mindset is flawed; happiness isn’t  something that appears after a certain  level of success is achieved; it’s something  to cultivate every day through the pursuit  of meaning beyond the material.  

What’s striking is that, despite all her  accomplishments, my mother’s deepest  pride doesn’t stem from what she’s done,  but from who she’s connected with. She  often reminds me to regard my academics  with less seriousness — ironic, I know,  coming from a Harvard graduate — but  every time I bring my academic and  professional woes to her, my mother  reminds me how those things never  brought her happiness. They certainly  gave her a sense of fulfillment and purpose,  but every conversation I have with her on  this topic ends with a reminder to have as  much fun as I possibly can while I still can.  

Success, in its purest form, is about  living a life that makes us happy - one  filled with connection, love, and purpose. While all other accomplishments are  certainly valuable in their own right, I  thoroughly believe that they pale greatly  in comparison.  

What makes you happy? I would suggest  we all look at our lives and pinpoint the  pieces of it that bring us joy, whether it’s  beauty in nature, the creation of art or  being present with and for the ones we  love. Moments of happiness are rooted in  love, wonder and human connection, and  in a world of resume accolade-chasing,  it’s easy to neglect this. I try everyday to  find something that brings me joy, and  to appreciate it — often, it’s my friends.