Life Wisdom - By Words of Taoism - What Am I Really Chasing? - Daily Wisdom #19

Episode Date: June 11, 2026

Welcome back to Daily Wisdom.There is also a kind of chasing that does not really bring us closer to life. It moves us, but it does not nourish us. It gives us direction, but not rest. It keeps the body active and the mind alert, yet somewhere inside, we may feel that we are running after something we cannot quite name.More resources:Free resources, books and more on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://wordsoftaoism.com/⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠My blog⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://taoismteachings.substack.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Music I use, as a playlist:⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/spotifyzenplaylist⁠⁠⁠⁠

Welcome back to daily wisdom. In the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu returns often to a simple warning. When we do not know what is enough, the search for more can become endless. I do not hear this as a rejection of desire. Desire is not the enemy of a meaningful life. Without desire, we would not begin anything. But there is also a kind of chasing that does not really be. bring us closer to life. It moves us, but it does not nourish us. It gives us direction, but not rest.

It keeps the body active and the mind alert, yet somewhere inside, we may feel that we are running after something we cannot quite name. At first, we may think we are chasing success or love, or money or recognition or beauty or freedom or a quieter life we may think we are chasing a particular achievement a certain number

a relationship a version of ourselves that finally feels complete and sometimes those things matter it would be too easy to pretend that our outer life does not affect our inner life a person who feels unlawful

safe may truly need more stability. A person who has been unseen may truly need recognition. A person who is exhausted may truly need a different rhythm. A person who has lived too long in a narrow life may truly need change. The question is not meant to shame what we want. It is meant to listen beneath it. Because often, what we chase on the surface is carrying another We may chase success, but what we really want is to feel that our life has meaning. We may chase approval, but what we really want is to feel safe being ourselves. We may chase money, but what we really want is to stop living with fear in the body. We may chase beauty, improvement, discipline or perfection,

but what we really want is to feel acceptable, lovable, at peace in our own skin. We may chase a new beginning, not only because the future looks bright, but because the present has become too small to breathe in. This is why chasing can be so confusing. The object in front of us may be real, but it may not be the deepest thing we are. looking for. Imagine someone walking at dusk, following a light in the distance. The light is small, but bright enough to pull the eyes forward. The person tells himself, when I reach it, I will finally be safe. So he walks faster. The road is uneven, but he barely notices it. The trees

darken around him, but he keeps his eyes on the light. After a while, he's a while. the light seems farther away than before. He becomes tired, but also more determined. He thinks the problem is that he has not walked fast enough, not wanted it enough, not sacrificed enough. So he tightens his body and continues. But if he were to pause, even briefly, he might notice that the light is moving

because he is carrying it in his own hand. What he has been chasing is not a place. It is a feeling he has not yet learned how to hold. I think many of our pursuits are like that. We imagine peace will arrive when life finally changes shape, when we are admired enough, when we earn enough, when we become disciplined enough, when the right person chooses us,

when the future feels certain, when the body looks different, when the work is finished, when the answer is clear, and perhaps some relief will come. I do not want to deny that. Reaching something can be beautiful. It can open a door,

it can make life easier, safer, more spacious. But if the deeper hunger remains unseen, we may reach the thing and still feel strangely unfinished. Because what we wanted was not only the thing. We wanted what we hoped the thing would finally make us feel at home in our own life. There is nothing wrong with these longings.

They are deeply human. The problem begins when we confuse the outer object with the inner need so completely that we spend years running without ever turning toward the need itself. A person can receive applause and still feel unseen. A person can become successful and still feel that their life has no quiet center. A person can enter a relationship and still feel unworthy of love.

A person can gain comfort and still carry fear in the nervous system. Lao Tzu's warning about endless desire becomes very tender when heard this way. He is not scolding us for wanting. He is asking us to notice when wanting has become a substitute for listening, because sometimes desire is a doorway, and sometimes desire is a distraction from the wound beneath it. So how can we tell the difference? Perhaps one clue is the feeling it leaves in the body.

Some desires, even difficult ones, make us more alive. They ask for courage, but they also bring a kind of clarity. They may stretch us, but they do not make us despise where we are. They say, there is more life available here.

Walk toward it. Other desires feel more like panic. They make the present moment feel worthless. They say, until you get this, you cannot rest. Until you become this, you cannot be loved. Until you arrive there, your life does not count. One desire opens the hand.

The other clenches it. One desire invites us deeper into life. The other keeps us running away from ourselves. This is not always easy to see while we are in motion. When we are chasing, movement itself can feel like certainty. At least we are doing something. At least we have a target. At least the mind can say, there.

That is where salvation is. Stillness can be harder, because stillness asks a more honest question. If I stopped running for a moment, what would I have to feel? Maybe I would have to feel how tired I am. Maybe I would have to feel that I do not only want success. I want permission to stop proving myself.

Maybe I would have to feel that I do not only want love. I want to believe I am not too much to be loved. Maybe I would have to feel that I do not only want freedom. I want relief from a life built around fear. This kind of honesty can be painful, but it is also the beginning of wisdom. It brings the chase back to its root. And once we see the route, we can respond differently.

If what I truly seek is safety, perhaps I do not only need another achievement. I may need rest, steadiness, better boundaries, fewer promises made from fear. If what I truly seek is recognition, perhaps I do not only need more, applause. I may need to stop hiding the part of me that wants to be seen honestly. If what I truly seek is freedom, perhaps I do not only need a new life. I may need to release one false obligation, one inherited expectation, one role I keep performing. If what I truly seek is peace, perhaps I do not only need a quieter future. I may need to stop making war against this moment.

This does not mean every answer is inward. Sometimes life truly asks us to change something outside, to leave, to begin, to ask, to repair, to choose differently. The point is not to become passive. The point is to stop moving blindly. And there's a difference between walking toward what is true and running away from what is unhealed. The first has dignity. The second has exhaustion. So today, rather than asking yourself to want less, you might ask yourself to want more honestly.

What am I really chasing? What feeling do I hope this will give me? If I reached it tomorrow, what? that would I finally allow myself to feel? And perhaps once this is seen, the chase begins to soften. But because we are no longer asking one distant light to carry the whole weight of our longing, what you chase is not always the same as what you need.

Sometimes the deepest work is not to run faster, but to stop long enough to understand what your running has been trying to protect. And when you understand that, desire can become cleaner. Less like escaping your life, and more like walking gently and honestly, toward what is truly asking to be lived.