The consumption of desire

I’ve been thinking about desire. 

Even the word itself sounds inviting. Tantalizing. Promising.

I’ve known desire two ways: when I go looking for it - maybe out of boredom, and in a mood to fuck around and find out; and when I don’t - when I thought I’d overcome all craving, and then another thing pops up to stand at my door, looking juicy and offering me just a little bite.

Let me in, it says. It’ll be fun, it says. You’ll like it, it says.

I recently watched the film Sinners and it suddenly dawned on me last night how it’s always been so apparent:

We do not need to work hard to keep evil and suffering out. Rather, like folklore tells us, we simply need to not invite it in.

It is only when we’ve invited desire in that we are consumed by the lack of the object we desire. The feeling we imagine it will give us. The satisfaction we’ll finally arrive at.

And oh, the chase is fun, isn’t it? 

The moment we start to crave something, the pursuit of that thing creates a huge dopamine surge in the brain. This dopamine fix is stronger than even the acquisition of said thing itself. 

But any satisfaction that needs to be chased is always short-lived. Any feeling we let ourselves think is controlled by an external force will never let us go. We’ll always be at the mercy of what’s outside of us. And this is what our anxiety is trying to tell us. We THINK we are anxious because we want more. But really, our body is saying this isn’t right. This isn’t sustainable. Get the fuck out of here.

If we learn how to listen to what our anxiety is truly saying, we break the cycle. The anxiety stops.

If we continue to think that the fire of anxiety wants to be assuaged by MORE, then that’s like mistaking gasoline for water and pouring it all over the damn thing.

The work is in regulating the need for consumption in order to feel different. To learn to be more generous with ourselves. To give ourselves the feeling we seek in the things we consume.

To give ourselves fearlessness, when they say we can’t do without. To give ourselves knowledge, of when is enough, rather than constantly expecting, asking, and searching for more.

How often are we confusing want for need?

The mind loves to find new and exciting things to bring us outside of ourselves. Just another tiny distraction, another excuse for pleasure. It wants and wants and wants, like an insatiable child. The heart knows what you need. The thoughts, words and actions that will bring you peace. And it’s usually harder to listen to the heart, because it’s quieter. It doesn’t demand your attention. It waits for you to willingly give it. 

Our hearts want us to know this: our desires will consume us if we let them.

What to do then, if not to give in?

Desire exists to remind us of choice. Always, again, back to this. When you start to crave something, don’t just focus on what that thing will bring you in the first ten seconds. Because the relief will be immediate - then damningly fizzled, gone, before you know it. And even before that happens, you’ll have already started thinking of how to get more. 

See the story through. Watch it til the end. Because you know how it ends. Even if you’ve never tasted this, you’ve tasted ten thousand things just like it. The name may be different. The ending is the same.

This is how we move away from the siren song of craving. To release the anxiety of wanting. To become aware of the feeling of lack, and then use our awareness to remind us of the falsehood of that narrative.

If we’re constantly searching outside ourselves for satisfaction, would the more pertinent question be - what makes you feel like you are not enough?

True abundance begins with the knowledge that you lack nothing. Only from this place can you attract everything. All that is meant for you. All that loves you. All that is you.

What are you consuming?

Is it feeding you peace, or more desire?

And if the answer is more desire, then are you consuming it? Or has it begun to consume you?

As always, with so much love,

Vera