Discontent. One of the most common sources of stress. Never more than now have we been exposed to the notion that life could be better—should be better. What you have now is not enough.

Social media feeds with airbrushed perfect lives. Commercials pushing the latest gadgets. Gurus peddling their snake oil—ten steps to happiness, five steps to success. There’s no escape from messages convincing you that what you have is not enough. That you are not enough.

This discontent creates restlessness, a need to strive for that one thing promising happiness. That restlessness breeds stress as you find yourself trapped on the hamster wheel of chasing the unattainable.

I know how this works. For years, I wanted the ‘next thing’. Car, house, gadget, pay-rise—that ‘next thing’ would move me closer to the greener grass where I’d finally be happy. I worked fiendishly toward that ‘happy place’, trampling on whatever got in my way.

Until one day, I couldn’t do it anymore.

In April 2000, the rug got pulled from under me and I landed face down in a heap of realisation and regret. I had succumbed to the stress of the pursuit.

Over the next year and a half, I began to see the full horror of what that striving had done, not just to me, but to people I loved—people who had always been right in front of me, yet so far away.

Still re-imagining who I was, I remember a friend telling me, “lower your gaze, Andy. Attend to what is right under your nose”. But that wasn’t how I’d approached life—my gaze was cast beyond the horizon. I’d been conditioned to want what was ‘out there’, not what was ‘here’.

Always striving for the next thing is like pouring a fine whisky and knocking it back in one gulp. You taste it, but it’s over in a flash; you miss the rich flavours from careful ageing. You get all of the alcohol and none of the pleasure.

When your focus is tomorrow, you fail to live today. Tomorrow is always ahead, never with you, and can never provide contentment. Tomorrow can never bring the happiness that today has already placed in your hands.

Knowing that and living that aren’t the same, though. Daily, surrounded by messages of what my life could be, I still grapple with wanting to run ahead to tomorrow. I still must consciously pull myself back from its empty promises.

But discovering the wonder of ‘right now’ brings rewards beyond measure.

It brings peace. Without the distraction of what could be, there is only restful stillness. The birds singing, the sun’s warmth, your child’s twinkling eye—all moments missed when your gaze is distant, but treasured when you notice what’s right under your nose.

It brings contentment. When you embrace what you have and dismiss thoughts of what you don’t, the true value of things within your grasp becomes clear. Relationships gain new significance. Those luxuries you longed to upgrade suddenly become enough.

And in peace and contentment lies happiness. True happiness that doesn’t need chasing. Happiness that endures in tough times and flourishes in good. Happiness that gives you resilience to take stress in your stride.

So, I throw down the same challenge that I face every morning: “What is wrong with right now?”

For one week, ask yourself that each morning. Every time your attention shifts to what could be, ask that question. Challenge yourself to find contentment in the ‘right now’, and as your attention shifts to savouring what you already have, you’ll find happiness and begin to control the stress in your life.