Why We Are Uneasy
We; those of us living in “developed” nations, often find ourselves living with a subtle ache…a dis-ease living inside. It’s quiet, almost imperceivable, which makes it much more insidious. It shapes our lives in ways we either can’t or won’t see. It whispers in moments of frustration, gnaws in times of longing, and flares when we feel incomplete or discontented. This fire has a name: wanting. We want things to be different than they are.
I don’t think I’ve even heard the idea expressed as plainly as when I read it in “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle.
“The ego wants to want…more than it wants to have.”
We want for things. Then if we’re “fortunate” enough to get what we want, we almost immediately start wanting the next thing. The satisfaction of getting what we think we want is fleeting at best.
But it isn’t just Tolle who discusses this unquenchable thirst in us.
The Buddha called it tanha; craving, desire. He said it is the root of all suffering. We suffer because we want what we do not have, because we cling to what we cannot keep, because we resist the simple, profound reality of what we already have…”what is.”
Jesus spoke of it too, in his own way. “Do not store up for yourselves, the treasures on earth,” he said, warning us against longing and attachment. It becomes a permanent distraction from the present moment…the restless pursuit of what can never fully satisfy. He reminded us that peace comes not from endless accumulation, but from a heart aligned with what is internal, eternal, and true.
The Bhagavad-Gita, the Koran, the Torah, countless sacred texts: all recognize the same truth. Our unease…or disease…is not arbitrary or randomly assigned. It’ is ‘s the echo of desire, of resistance, of a mind unwilling to accept the world and ourselves as we are.
We can look at our own lives. How often do we chase after fleeting pleasure, status, or approval? How often, how passionately, how diligently do we resist the inevitable…the passing of a moment, the shifting of circumstances, the aging of ourselves and those we love? Each “I want this” and “I need that” adds fuel to the fire. It’ s subtle, but it burns.
The paradox? We are not condemned to this restlessness. Every spiritual text points us toward the same path: acceptance tempered by mindful action. The Buddha teaches mindfulness and the middle path; Jesus calls for surrender to a higher will and trust in what endures; the Gita speaks of performing our duty without attachment to results; the Koran reminds us that contentment comes from gratitude and submission to God’s plan.
The lesson is not resignation. Not at all! It is a disciplined, loving redirection of the heart. It’s…peace.
Desire itself is not evil. It’s the clinging, the demanding, the refusal of the heart that makes it a source of suffering. When we recognize our wants, when we see their impermanence and the perpetual self inflicted aching…when we learn not to be enslaved by them, the fire quiets.
I am not writing this as one who has mastered it. I am writing as one who feels the burn of the fire every day. And still, in moments of awareness…when I notice my longing without judgment, when I let go of the imagined “better,” when I breathe into what is…I feel a strange relief, almost a sweetness. It is fleeting, yes, but enough to remind me that peace is possible.
This dis-ease…is not a punishment. It is a teacher. It is the electric fence that subtly (or not so subtly) redirects us each time we resist life instead of embracing it. Whether we heed the sting, the suffering, the unease or not, they are always guiding us. They point us away from more…and toward the quiet, resilient joy that comes not from having all we want. Read that again…
They point us away from more…and toward the quiet resilient joy that come from NOT having all we want.
And in that diminished desire…the wanting of less, accepting more, and noticing the beauty, love, and wonder that already exists…there is peace.
Peace is not given, like grace. It is earned yet it’s free. Not through striving. But through seeing, through accepting, through letting go. And in that letting go, we finally find ourselves… not in the world as we imagine it, but in the world as it truly is.
Yes, I still wish and I still hope and I still want. I’m just so much more mindful and so much more peaceful.
XO
Harvesting Insights 