Happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict;

“Happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war.” Thus wrote William S. Burroughs, a man of paradox and perception, who saw beneath the glitter of modern desire to the hard truth of human striving. In this striking reflection, he warns us that happiness cannot be hunted directly, as one might chase a fleeting bird. It is not the goal, but the result of living rightly — of fulfilling one’s purpose, engaging with one’s function, and facing one’s conflict with courage. To seek happiness without these — without work, without struggle, without meaning — is to desire the triumph without the battle, the harvest without the sowing, the light without the dawn.

Burroughs, though a writer of the modern age, speaks here with the wisdom of the ancients. His words echo the Stoics and the warriors of old, who knew that the soul finds its peace not in comfort, but in striving. Function — the natural role or labor of a being — gives life its shape. Purpose gives it direction. Conflict gives it depth and strength. Together, they forge the path upon which true happiness walks quietly behind, unbidden yet certain. The one who labors with devotion, who wrestles with hardship, who serves something greater than self, does not chase happiness — yet happiness follows him as his shadow.

The origin of this truth lies in the eternal law of growth. Nothing in creation becomes strong without resistance. The tree deepens its roots through storms; the metal is tempered by flame; the hero is formed through trial. So too with the soul. When Burroughs speaks of conflict, he does not glorify war, but the necessary friction of existence — the inner battles of will, duty, and perseverance. To seek happiness without struggle is to reject life’s essence. For joy, like wisdom, is born from the womb of difficulty.

Consider the tale of Viktor Frankl, the Jewish psychiatrist who endured the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp. Stripped of freedom, possessions, and even family, he discovered a truth that outlived every torment: that meaning, not pleasure, sustains the human spirit. “Those who have a why to live,” he wrote, “can bear almost any how.” In that furnace of suffering, he saw that happiness cannot be pursued; it arises from the pursuit of purpose — from the act of giving one’s life to something beyond survival. Frankl’s life was the embodiment of Burroughs’ words: happiness is not the prize of ease, but the fruit of endurance.

In our age, many run restlessly after happiness, mistaking it for pleasure, novelty, or escape. They consume endlessly, travel ceaselessly, and entertain themselves into numbness — and yet they remain empty. Why? Because they have mistaken the shadow for the substance. True happiness is not a possession, but a consequence. It blooms where life is fully lived — in work well done, in love courageously given, in struggle nobly endured. To live only for happiness is to live for the surface, to flee the very trials that give the soul its strength. Burroughs saw that the modern man, in his search for comfort, was losing his conflict, and thus losing his humanity.

Yet there is no despair in this teaching — only awakening. For once a person understands that happiness is a byproduct, not a pursuit, life regains its sacred rhythm. One need not chase joy; one must live truthfully, serve faithfully, and strive courageously, and joy will come. The wise carpenter, who shapes wood with skill and patience, feels the quiet contentment of mastery. The mother who labors in love for her child knows a happiness no pleasure can rival. The artist who pours his spirit into creation tastes a joy deeper than comfort — the joy of function, purpose, and conflict made whole.

Therefore, my children, take heed of this ancient wisdom clothed in modern words: do not seek happiness as an end. Seek instead to live — to labor, to fight, to grow. Let your days be guided by purpose, not pleasure. Do not shrink from conflict, for it is the crucible that refines the heart. And above all, fulfill your function, whatever it may be, with honesty and devotion. In doing so, you will find that happiness, long elusive, will come to you unannounced — not as a reward, but as the natural fragrance of a well-lived life.

For the victory worth winning is not the easy one. The truest happiness is born of struggle and service, of fire and faith. Remember the words of William S. Burroughs: “Those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war.” So, go forth into your battles — not fearing the fight, but embracing it. For in the conquering of self, in the fulfilling of duty, in the living of purpose — there, and only there, will you find peace.