=”
In my lifetime, seeking improvement was never a problem; it fuelled my passion.
If my past aspirations had materialized, my existence would reflect consistent financial stability, significant creative contributions recognized worldwide, and a feeling of achievement—finally—after years of dedication. I would instruct or create with ease, my contributions valued entirely, my outlook sufficient to relish life.
This aspiration subtly lingered in my everyday experiences. I wasn’t fixated on it, yet I gravitated towards it. “Better” was my guide, not a privilege. “Best” was the unspoken assurance that propelled me through ambiguity and incompleteness.
This strategy was effective for some time.
Until I recognized its ramifications.
When Hope Transforms into Burden
At first, “better” is invigorating. It encourages and sustains you amid challenges.
However, over time, almost imperceptibly, it may shift into a weight.
Unbeknownst to me, I began using the future as a standard for the present:
“This isn’t sufficient yet. I’m not complete yet. I’ll be alright when…”
Even profound moments—authentic writing, assisting a pupil, finalizing a creative endeavor—seemed momentary. Valuable, undeniably, but not fulfilling. They continually hinted at something else required for me to feel at ease.
This made me comprehend what Buddhist wisdom refers to as craving—not merely wanting, but clinging. A kind of desiring that fixates on outcomes, rendering contentment conditional.
It appears logical:
“I merely wish for enhancement.” “I only seek stability.” “I just want this to pan out.”
Yet beneath lurked fragility:
I can’t find peace until the future aligns with me.
The Moment of Clarity
What transformed me wasn’t an overt moment of enlightenment.
It was weariness.
Worn out from shouldering invisible expectations for happiness. Weary of deferring fulfillment. Exhausted by living as if authentic life had yet to commence—especially as time, health, and certainty dwindled.
I realized I had leaned so far towards the future that I scarcely inhabited the present.
That’s when I discerned the distinction between making progress and excessively reaching forward.
One involves constructive effort. The other is clinging.