COMMENTARY: The Problem of Wanting One More Thing

c. 2000 Religion News Service (Les Kaye is the abbot of Kannon Do Zen Meditation Center in Mountain View, California and author of “Zen at Work” (Random House, 1997). He can be reached at medatwork(at)aol.com. He wrote this article for Religion News Service.) (UNDATED) Describing his recent visit to Scotland, a friend explained how he […]

c. 2000 Religion News Service

(Les Kaye is the abbot of Kannon Do Zen Meditation Center in Mountain View, California and author of “Zen at Work” (Random House, 1997). He can be reached at medatwork(at)aol.com. He wrote this article for Religion News Service.)

(UNDATED) Describing his recent visit to Scotland, a friend explained how he and his family enjoyed the country and the people. “But,” he complained, “the food was bland.” Listening to this discussion, another friend, originally from Yugoslavia, suggested, “At least you ate.”


Late one afternoon last spring, I put on my jogging clothes and went for a run through a nearby golf course. The weather was perfect, the day as close to ideal as I could imagine. As I passed a foursome at the eighth tee, I heard the solid sound of club meeting ball, immediately followed by loud swearing.

We human beings are easily disappointed.

We have no problem finding something to complain about. Like small children, we have a hard time appreciating what we already have because we don’t understand we are already perfect and complete. Chronically unsatisfied, we are always pursuing something we think will satisfy us.

The biblical story of creation describes humanity coming into existence in a state of abundance and harmony. But when confronted by desire to have one more thing, it loses awareness of its perfection. Ignoring its inner voice of wisdom, it gives in to temptation.

Risking everything for one more personal thing, humanity forfeits its sense of wholeness, alienating itself from its environment. It creates a lifetime of difficulty and sorrow by persisting in the pursuit of one more desirable thing.

In less dramatic fashion, Buddhism presents us the same insight.

In the second of the Four Noble Truths, the Buddha explains how suffering begins with desire:

“And what, monks, is the Noble Truth of the origin of suffering? It is that craving … bound up with pleasure and lust, finding fresh delight, now here, now there.”

In Buddhist terms, we become “hungry ghosts,” always craving one more thing: a word of praise, a sexual adventure, more recognition, money, another possession _ the apple takes many forms. The ego _ that most cunning creation _ cleverly constructs delusions about life in order to justify pursuit of its desires. As Buddhism explains, humans need spiritual practice if they are to recognize their self-created delusions and avoid suffering.


Spiritual practice is the practice of honesty, not only as a moral and ethical behavior toward others, but more important, the practice of being honest with our self. Most people have a hard time with true spiritual practice. Self-honesty can be elusive: we do not like to admit we can be greedy and less than unselfish. And the ego does not like to change its habitual pattern. It likes its “story,” its justification for clinging to delusion.

The ego’s story always has a happy ending _ at least in the mind _ in terms of gaining one more thing. It is hard to overcome delusion when we retell our story to our self over and over. So we have self-deception _ recreating the fiction again and again. The practical result is that our mind is rarely in the reality of the present moment. We don’t know where we are, although we insist we do.

The ego’s role is defensive; it does not accept the idea that it gives in to desires, that it is “not OK” or “not enlightened.” So it creates delusions and a dream world to live in, where it can tell it self that it is “OK.”

It can be helpful to think about, read about, write about, talk about, and have strong feelings about the way we fool our self. But these activities are of limited value; they cannot end the cycle of delusion. The ego and its desires are immune to the intellect. Words and feelings cannot reveal the truth of things, no matter how exciting or inspiring the insight may be. We need to engage in selfless spiritual practice, and that takes some discipline.

How do we put an end to this process of self-deception? What is the foundation of the spiritual practice leading us out of craving and disappointment? Simply, we can stop collecting “one more thing.” By examining a craving when it arises in the mind, we can ask our self, “Do I really need this thing I hunger for? Or am I deceiving myself into believing I do?”

Spiritual practice is about seeing Reality just as it is, including our own self-deception. It is about seeing how we fool our self, how we cover up the way we are if we think it doesn’t fit our image of how we would like to appear.


Spiritual practice is the way we expose the ego and the ways we allow emotions to romanticize our life. Then we can be honest with our self and understand how human nature gets in trouble. Then we can be helpful.

DEA END KAYE

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