In Buddhism, suffering is analyzed in many different ways. There are the three sufferings, the eight sufferings, and the limitless sufferings. Not obtaining what one desires is one of the eight sufferings, and all people are familiar with this experience. But while not obtaining one’s desires is an obvious form of suffering, does it follow, then, that being able to gratify one’s desires is a source of happiness? Many people, deluded by consumerism and materialism, might think so, since this is what our environment, the media, and the advertising world constantly tell us. But our predicament isn’t that simple.

Unfufilled desires cause frustration, which easily leads to anger. Not being able to obtain the objects of the five desires—wealth, sex, fame, food, and sleep—we give rise to anger and hatred. But even if we do obtain these, our desires still cause us suffering. By giving in to greedy desires one simply reinforces these desires. Since greed can never be satisfied, one might say that human desires by definition are unquenchable. When one desire is satisfied, at least momentarily, the mind soon gives rise to ever increasing, more sophisticated desires. We thought the object we were grasping at would bring us satisfaction, but once it is ours, we tend to become jaded and bored with it soon. No matter what the coveted object may be—clothes, jewelry, a car, a house, a promotion, a boyfriend or a girlfriend—we tire of it soon and start looking for new, more exciting things to possess and enjoy. This never-ending multiplication of desires is our basic problem.

As long as we let greed dictate our actions, we reap nothing but suffering. Unsatisfied desires are painful, and satisfied desires, besides feeding our greed, are inevitably undermined by the suffering of change or process. Thus anticipated happiness turns into accumulated suffering. A person attached to his desires and pleasures can never be truly happy, since the slightest change of circumstances can frustrate his desires. If fine food is your attachment, you’ll be disappointed with anything less than the best—and so you end up being dissatisfied most of the time. The same goes for fashionable clothes, fast cars, and even intellectual and artistic pursuits. It is difficult for a person of fastidious tastes to be truly happy or content, since nothing is ever quite right, quite good enough for him. The more he pursues perfection, the farther it recedes. It’s like running after the horizon.

If gratification of desires was true happiness, would you consider an alcoholic or a drug addict who was guaranteed an unending supply of the poison that’s ruining him a happy person? None of us probably would. Yet desires work the same way—our pleasures turn into subtle addictions, and before long we think we cannot live without them. We lose all self-reliance and submit to being totally turned by any external states or objects our desires latch onto. “The more the merrier,” “the bigger the better” are slogans of a culture of addiction. This feverish mentality of acquisition ruins both people’s wisdom life and their physical bodies, and lays the whole planet to waste in the process.

Philosophers both East and West have taught that unrestrained indulgence in sense desires brings inevitable suffering in the end. The road towards happiness lies in simplifying one’s life, in moderating and decreasing one’s desires. In the Sutra in Forty-two Sections the Buddha clearly warns us that sense desires are a razor dipped in honey—if you don’t stop in time, if you allow your greed to run wild, sooner or later you will cut yourself. But how many people in this world know how to be content? How many appreciate what they have without hankering for more? And how many ever have the idea of giving something up, renouncing any of their possessions, benefits, or privileges in life? Prince Siddhartha renounced his whole kingdom in order to solve the problem of suffering once and for all. But in the modern world our priorities are truly upside down: we value acquisition, not renunciation. Yet, if one is going to accomplish the Way, the five desires have to be renounced. As the Venerable Master has said: “If you can’t put down the false, you can’t pick up the true.” You can’t have it both ways.

The five desires have us in a powerful hold, but actually they are just ersatz pleasures, shoddy substitutes for real happiness. When we don’t know how to live, how to be a person, or how to use our human life, we tend to believe that gratification of the senses and pursuit of pleasure can guarantee us some happiness. And so we let our inherent wisdom get clouded over by greedy desires. Mindlessly we drift along in the river of love, following the crowd, taking our cures from the TV, newspapers, and magazines, joining the same superficial pursuits we see everybody else involved in. Why do we do this? Simply because it hasn’t occurred to us that there might be anything more to life.

If, however, we start to realize our true goal in life, if we are lucky enough to meet the Buddhadharma and bring forth a mind to cultivate the Way, our previous wallowing in desires may suddenly seem childish at best and positively disgusting at worst. At this point renunciation will naturally occur, and many of our old, crusty habits start to fall off. Now we see the objects of our desire for what they are—a ball and chain that pulls us into the dust and hampers our advance on the Way. Renunciation allows us to travel light, to concentrate on the essentials, live life close to the bone. Giving up things can be a struggle, but it can also be a relief. Laying down our self-inflicted loads frees our energies for cultivation and benefiting others. As our everyday life is simplified and purified, the rewards are far more real and lasting than anything our running after the five desires could provide us with.

Ultimately, if one doesn’t want anything, one can be constantly happy. Then “Everything’s OK”—you can’t lose anything or worry about anything, since you aren’t attached to a single thing in the first place. This is true happiness which is not conditioned by external circumstances.