The Search

hen we are born and take our first breath, we separate from our mother and from perfect
happiness for the first time. We cry because we are suddenly cast into a world where we feel things like coldness, heat, hunger, and thirst; thus, we feel uncomfortable.

Someone—–usually our mother—–feeds us, holds us, loves us, and releases us from our discomfort. It is one of our earliest experiences of happiness in this new and frightening world. When our needs have been met, we relax and are able to rest peacefully. . . .
Until . . .

We find ourselves uncomfortable again. This time, we want more than food. We want to be dry, we want a comfortable bed, and we want someone to hold us and sing us to sleep.

As time goes by, the list grows longer. As we expand our experience of the world around us, we also expand our list of wants and needs. At some point, we lose touch with what it is we want and what it is that we need. These feelings of discomfort and emptiness become so commonplace that they don't stand out anymore. Most of us begin to accept the yearning and emptiness as just a normal part of being human.

Since we can't find that perfect peace we once felt on the inside, we begin seeking distraction from our yearning on the outside: something, anything, that will hold our attention well enough to keep us from feeling the emptiness. We become so good at distracting ourselves from the pain that we eventually forget that's what we're doing. Before long, we start to feel the pain we have so cleverly hidden from ourselves, and we believe someone else must be causing it. It can't be our pain because we were fine until so and so came...