If the mind seeks rest, it has forgotten where true rest is found. The mind is a tool of the Self, not the Self itself, and cannot independently identify its source. Ignorant of the infinity within, it searches frantically like an insect beating its wings against the windowpane, trying desperately to reach the sunlight beyond the glass. The effort is intense, yet the barrier is created by a mistake in direction.

The mind remembers former pleasures and longs to repeat them. But repetition brings diminishing returns. The stronger the earlier enjoyment, the greater the craving for its return and the sharper the disappointment when it is not reproduced. Though longing to escape suffering, we invariably cling to its causes.^[10] Bhagavan highlights our dilemma:

  One cannot put out a burning fire by pouring petrol over it. Attempting to satisfy a craving for the time being so that the passion may later be suppressed is simply foolish.^[11]

Pleasure and aversion sustain one another. We grasp at desirable experiences and resist what is unpleasant, driving the mind further from its source. As dependence upon stimulation grows, silence becomes difficult to bear. The psychology of wanting is like a merry-go round—the plight of hungry ghosts—where indulging sense desire magnifies our discontent. The mechanism of addiction is hard to come free of, but the first step is identifying the trap.

Food, scrolling, work, excitement or intoxicants briefly lift our spirits, but dependence upon them deepens the very sense of lack they were meant to relieve. We become like the dog chasing its own tail. The faster we pursue satisfaction, the faster it recedes.

Literature down through the ages has reminded us of this blind spot and helps us clarify the confusion.

We recall the story of King Midas who was granted a boon that everything he touched would turn to gold. The king initially believed his deepest wish had been fulfilled: branches, stones and furniture became precious metal in his hands. But bread, too, hardened at his touch, water turned to gold at his lips, and even his beloved daughter became a lifeless statue. The gift that promised unlimited satisfaction became a nightmare.

The story highlights how desire to make pleasure permanent drains life of its warmth. What we selfishly try to possess becomes dead in our grasp.

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