Does All Desire Lead to Suffering?
Last weekend I asked a monk about his decision to become a monk.
What he shared has stayed with me.
“At some point I realized all desire leads to suffering. Rather than start a career, create more karma and desires, I chose to focus on self-realization.”
He shared about growing up in suburban America in the fifties. Everyone did what their neighbors were doing, and for the most part, no one asked questions. Grow up, get a job, get married, buy a home, have children, save for retirement, and eventually die. There was no mention of God in the home he grew up in.
I was reminded of my own upbringing in the suburbs of New York City.
I remember at a young age wondering:
What is the point of all of this?
Why are we here?
How did I even get here?
One night at a sleepover with my best friend, I had the courage to speak some of these questions out loud for the first time.
She laughed at me.
Perhaps she was just uncomfortable, as most people are, when someone starts asking the kinds of questions that can’t be answered by the surface level of life. Questions that ask something deeper of us. Questions that point us toward God.
I remember in 11th grade, my history teacher shared the principles of Buddhism.
It was a welcome break from memorizing dates and wars. My attention sharpened. I listened intently as the chalk moved across the blackboard. She spoke about nirvana (enlightenment, or liberation) and the Four Noble Truths.
Life is suffering
Suffering is caused by craving and aversion
There is a path to free yourself from suffering
It involves finding equanimity and walking the middle path
I hung on her every word, thirsty for this kind of education.
Because from what I could see around me, the purpose of life seemed to be jumping through hoops:
Go to school
Get good grades
Graduate
Go to a good college
Get more good grades
Graduate
Get a good job
And then, maybe then, I would be free.
At 22, after graduating from college, I started applying for jobs.
It was a year and a half after the 2008 financial crisis, and not much was coming through.
But something else was happening at the same time. My consciousness was moving through an awakening, one that began with pain. My body was hurting in ways doctors and pills couldn’t resolve. And I experienced a kind of heartbreak that came with losing both a love and a friend.
Looking back, I can see I was being opened.
Ripe to seek something deeper. Something more enduring.
Something that might lead me beyond the cycle of desire and suffering.
So at 22, with no job in sight, I bought a one-way ticket to India.
I immersed myself in ashram life, selfless service, the teachings of yoga, and hours and hours of meditation. I meditated in the caves of saints like Sri Ramana Maharshi, received hug after hug from Amma (Mata Amritanandamayi), and sat in silence for ten days, meditating ten hours a day in the tradition of S. N. Goenka.
And yet, when I returned home, I soon discovered I still had desires.
The longing to get married.
To own a home.
To have a child.
Today (sixteen years later) I find myself as a householder. A mother. A wife. With responsibilities, rhythms, and a very full life.
And yet, deep down, I am still a yogi. I dream of the days when life will align to bring me back to India.
But back to my original question: Does all desire lead to suffering?
In my conversation with the monk, as we discussed desire and suffering, he offered a refinement, “There is something about desire,” he said, “that can lead us to our dharma. And to our path of spiritual liberation.”
He went on to share a belief I also hold, that each soul incarnates with a specific mission. A unique path of desires, service, and experiences that guide us toward awakening. Each person’s life is its own kind of Earth School.
“Your spiritual learning will come through marriage, through raising a child,” he told me. “Mine comes through the relationships and duties I have within monastic life. And the path of a renunciate does not exempt me from life’s lessons. It simply offers a different set of tests.”
He went on to share, “Where I really see people suffer is through a lie so many young people are fed:
‘You can have it all.”’
We’re told we’ll find happiness if we have just a little more money, a little more success, the right partner, the right home, the right life.
I was fed this lie watching reality television in my teenage years.
But then, I also encountered it in the coaching industry.
Wouldn’t life be better if you earned a little more? had a little more success? Found that dream partner?
Just think it to magnetize it.
Just make life a little more perfect.
A little more rich.
A little more successful.
A little more beautiful.
And how do you get there? Maybe you just need to invest a little more, work with that next coach, hire that support to get there.
It’s never-ending.
While there is nothing wrong with being supported.
Or learning from the right teacher.
Or investing in your growth.
There is a big difference between being guided deeper into yourself, and your unique path…and constantly being led to believe that fulfillment is waiting for you somewhere just beyond where you are now.
And I’ve noticed that even when I reached certain goals, even when I arrived at the number or created the thing I thought would fulfill me…
There was a kind of emptiness waiting on the other side.
The monk went on to say, “Life isn’t about getting to that next level of perfect. It’s just not. It’s really hard sometimes. Because life is about spiritual evolution. About being tested. About facing and moving through our unique karmic lessons. Moving above and beyond them, to one day find God.”
So what actually does bring happiness on the path?
Not the endless pursuit of more, something softer. More simple.
Presence.
The joy of a long hike.
Watching a sunset.
Hearing my daughter laugh.
The more I am truly there for these moments, the more I feel a kind of contentment that doesn’t ask for anything more.
Gratitude.
Sitting in my garden.
Listening to the water trickle through the pond.
Watching a bird build a nest in the birdhouse I hung.
There is a fullness here that has nothing to do with achieving.
Service.
Somewhere along the path, I found a path of service.
Showing up with women. Listening to their struggles. Offering presence, love, validation and acknowledgment.
This has been one of the most grounding sources of meaning in my life.
Spiritual community.
Sitting with this monk and a small group of seekers on Easter Sunday, I had a moment:
I can’t believe I am in a room full of people who care this deeply about liberation.
Who are actually orienting their lives toward it.
It filled me with peace.
Meditation.
As challenging as it can be, it offers something I haven’t found anywhere else.
Moments of freedom.
Connection to God.
A remembering of who I am beyond the body, beyond the roles.
A softening of attachment. A return to something eternal.
I’m not a monk.
I haven’t renounced the world.
I’ve chosen a life of relationship, family, creation.
And still, the question remains alive in me:
How do I live in the world without being bound by it?
To discern the difference between desire that leads to suffering, and desire that leads to dharma—service, presence, gratitude, and alignment with the will of the Divine.
This is what I’ve devoted my life to, and are the foundations of the work I share inside the Way of the Priestess.
A path of devotion. Of presence. Of service. Of remembrance.
A space for spiritual community and accountability as we grow on our unique path of liberation and service.
We begin again in September. Stay tuned for when enrollment opens June 1, 2026.
With love,
Meredith
A Path of Remembrance
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