Desire is the root cause of all evil.

I heard that in a podcast about Buddhism once. At the time, it sounded poetic, but too abstract to be useful. One of those truths that you’d screenshot and never look at again.

I figured I’d revisit them after I’d paid off a house and stacked enough cash for retirement.

Until then? Chasing money felt like the rational thing to do.

And I did chase it. I got a little less poor. And to my surprise — it didn’t change much. I didn’t feel fulfilled. Not really. Worse — the taste of progress only made me hungrier. The more I achieved, the more I expected. The finish line moved every time I got close.

Why Are We Always Reaching?

Why do we expect so much more than the generations before us?

Is it the internet? Scroll long enough and you’ll see someone younger than you flexing their new Lambo and passive income portfolio.

Or is it the economy? Take housing — in my parents’ day, it was more about hard work than selling kidneys on the black market.

Now? Greedy CEOs, and inflated prices forced us to live on 45-square-meters and be grateful. If your home can’t offer peace, maybe your job will?

Or maybe… we really are the spoiled generation, clutching down expensive coffee and wasting generational wealth on avocado toast.

The truth?

It’s all of that.

So, What’s the Fix?

Maybe Buddhism had it right all along — just stop expecting.

Detach. Force your brain to focus on the present instead of chasing imagined futures.

And sure — some of that is actually helpful. Less expectation can mean less disappointment. Focusing on the present can make life more bearable.

But doing it completely?

Impossible.

People who never look ahead often get blindsided. Rent shows up whether or not you’ve achieved enlightenment. Planning isn’t the enemy. Living only for later is.

Future and Present

I’d love to own a house — a cozy place with a big living room and a garden where I could sip coffee and daydream.

But it’s expensive.

It’s either sign a contract with the devil for a 30 year mortgage or try to save when inflation devours everything I earn.

Both are uncertain and slow.

And while you wait — life still goes on.

If you pour everything into that one goal — saving every penny, working overtime, obsessing — sure, you might get there faster. But you also might arrive exhausted, burned out, or bitter.

Too many people collapse at the finish line they were racing toward their entire lives.

So whatever you do: don’t forget to live on the way there.

The Weight of Wanting

Expectations aren’t just thoughts.

They carry emotion. And if you let them spiral, you start believing your entire worth depends on making them real.

They hijack your brain and bury your joy. You stop asking why you want something—and only care when it’ll finally happen.

In those heated moments, it’s worth stopping to ask yourself: Why do I even want this house? This car? That promotion?

It’s to make life better.

And if that’s the goal — why ruin the present just because you’re not there yet?

You need a little coldness. A touch of detachment. Because with every expectation comes a risk of failure, stress, and disappointment.

You can’t control all of that.

But you can control your reaction.

Do it. You’re not a slave.

A Hopeful Ending

Life is like a bumpy road at night. And the GPS is constantly buffering. Also your car is a wreck.

But somehow, you still move forward.

I’ll be honest: I spent a good chunk of this post demonizing expectations. Painting them as the villain behind our anxiety and burnout.

But they are not evil.

They are necessary.

They pull us forward. They show us that we are more than we think, and that we deserve more.

So don’t give them up.

To Tie It Up

So that’s my take on expectations.

Let me end with a question: What did you expect from this post? Something more? Something different? Or maybe, somehow, it landed just right.

For me, it felt a lot like that podcast about Buddhism I mentioned earlier — too abstract to be useful.

And it’s not a bad thing. In the end, that podcast sparked a reflection in me — just years later.

Maybe this post will do the same for someone out there.

All the best, and see you on the next one.