There is a phrase from Daizan that I particularly like:
“Happiness that nobody can give you and nobody can take away.”
It is an interesting idea. We usually think of happiness as something connected to circumstances. Something happens that we like and we feel happy. Something changes, disappears or doesn’t happen as we hoped, and suddenly that happiness is gone.
In Buddhism, desire is often discussed in relation to tanhā, a Pali word usually translated as thirst or craving. I find the image of thirst particularly useful because it suggests something that continually asks to be satisfied.
We want something. We get it. For a while we are satisfied. Then another desire appears.
Of course, desire itself is not necessarily a problem. Desire can make us move, create, learn and explore. We can desire to help somebody, improve our health, learn something new or change a difficult situation.
Perhaps the interesting question is not whether we have desires, but what our relationship with them is.
What happens when I really want something? What happens when I don’t get it? How much of my happiness depends on things happening in the way I want them to happen?
I remember reading something about Pelé. After Brazil won the 1970 World Cup, his third World Cup victory, he described feeling a sense of liberation. For years there had been this enormous desire and pressure connected with football and winning. Then, eventually, something changed.
I find this interesting because sometimes we imagine that satisfying a desire will finally settle everything. We think, “If I can just achieve this, then I’ll be happy.” Perhaps sometimes we achieve it and discover that the mind is already preparing the next thing to want.
In Zen we recite the Four Great Vows. One of them says:
“Desires are inexhaustible; I vow to put an end to them all.”
It is a strange vow.
If desires are inexhaustible, how can we possibly put an end to all of them?
I don’t think we necessarily need to solve this intellectually. Perhaps we can simply observe desire when it appears and become curious about what happens.
What does wanting feel like?
Where do I feel it?
What happens if I don’t immediately satisfy it?
What happens if I do?
This is something we can explore in very ordinary situations.
Imagine that you are sitting in meditation and suddenly your nose begins to itch.
The reaction is almost automatic.
I want to scratch it.
Normally we lift a hand, scratch the itch and the problem is solved.
But what happens if, this time, we wait?
Not as an endurance test and not to prove anything. Simply out of curiosity.
There is the itch.
There is the desire to scratch it.
We can observe both.
Does the itch increase? Does it decrease? Does it move? Does it disappear? Does the desire to scratch remain the same, or does that change too?
We don’t know what will happen.
And that is exactly what makes the experiment interesting.
Perhaps we can do the same with other desires that appear in our lives. Not necessarily denying them or following them, but getting to know them a little better.
What do I want?
What happens when I want it?
And what remains, even for a moment, if I don’t immediately have to get what I want?
Perhaps we can begin with something very simple.
The next time your nose itches, wait for a moment before scratching it.
And see what happens.
