Aspiration of a Life Well Lived
Aristotle’s eudaimonia is usually translated as “flourishing” or “living well.” It isn’t a mood or a feeling of contentment. It’s a virtuous activity of the soul across a complete life, built through reason, habit, reflection and community. (See the Britannica entry.)
I’ve been drawn to this philosophy since I first learned of it. I felt it encompassed what I dreamed for myself and honestly the world at large: Joy Sovereigns living Happily Ever After collectively. (A Joy Sovereign is someone who uses their full autonomy and free will over their life to create and live a joyful experience. Happily Ever After is the active journey of loving being you and living your good life through courageous action and positive expectation.)
Here’s how Aristotle sees it. Living well is the goal, and it’s sufficient on its own. The virtues (courage, justice, generosity) and the goods around them (health, wealth, community, honor, even pleasure) support it, but they aren’t the goal itself. They just make the road easier. He also says a person of real character can bear great misfortune nobly and still shine. I hold onto that part.
It’s just that Aristotle says a life is truly eudemonic only when it’s lived well and blessed with decent fortune. He lists things like poverty, ugliness and tragic early loss as external misfortunes that can keep a life from qualifying. Which knocks me out of the running pretty early. My start wasn’t favored and my middle has been shaky. I’m still building my wealth and health. What I do have down pat is courage, justice, generosity and a strong community. A win is a win.
So why choose eudaimonia as my aspiration, knowing my life story may not make Aristotle’s cut? Because I can’t control what I’ve been through. I can only control where I take myself.
I was talking with my therapist about how I’ve spent most of my life organized around avoiding suffering. At one point my life felt like a hell I had to escape. I wasn’t lacking bravery, capability or intelligence. It’s just that at times I was a bystander to unfortunate circumstances and to other people’s poor decisions. The skills I learned to get through them served me then, but they don’t serve me now. I found myself fighting the familiar urge to default to living from an avoidant place. Because how do you build something worthwhile if you can’t stay still in it long enough to see it?
Avoidant Living was turning me into a coward who once did brave things. I’m many things, but a coward is not one of them.
So what did I do about it? I did what I tell my clients to do. I took a look at what the world had to offer and made it work for me. Choosing to build my eudaimonia on purpose is exactly that. Aristotle gives me a lot to work with. I already agreed with him about which virtues and human goods support a life well lived, and I felt it long before I had language for it. The one thing I refuse to accept is that hard luck disqualifies the whole story.
Which is why I changed the rule. Aristotle already told us eudaimonia is an activity lived, not a prize you’re handed. If we take that seriously, then it can’t be written off because of bad luck, especially when the bad luck had nothing to do with a lack of virtue. Fortune can shape where you start, but it can’t decide what you do with the day in front of you. I’d measure a life well lived by how well a person plays the hand they were dealt, and by the virtue they habitually practiced.
So, while Aristotle might say my life as a whole isn’t eudemonic, I can build eudaimonia today and in the days I have left. I can work with my community to make it a shared way of living, now and for the people who inherit this world. A life well lived, together, is all I believe is truly asked of us.
I’ll leave you with this. If the goal is simply a life lived well, what will you do today to align with it?
