Some mornings, before the day has had a chance to rush in with its demands, I go for a quiet drive listening to a podcast or an audible book that I’ve downloaded to get to a coffee shop followed by a visit to gym.
The shops are yet to open up, the streets are still not very busy and the sun is still coming up.
I like the morning smell of the cool air.
There’s no urgency yet - no messages, no meetings, no invisible clock ticking loudly in my head.
It’s in these ordinary, unremarkable moments that my mind tends to wander more honestly.
Not towards goals or plans - but towards patterns, towards self reflection.
And lately, one question keeps returning:
What are we really chasing in life?
How I slowly arrived at this realisation
This thought didn’t arrive all at once. It came through distilling from books, listening to audio podcasts and may be with time as well - it’s starting to make sense.
It emerged gradually, by watching people I love - across ages and stages.
I’d start this with my five-year-old.
The purest form: Childhood imagination
My five-year-old tells me, with complete conviction, that he has superpowers.
In his world, he can smash all the bad guys.
He can save everyone.
He can build, draw, paint, and create things entirely on his own - no instructions needed.
What strikes me isn’t the fantasy itself, but what he’s proud of.
He raves about what he made with his own hands.
What he figured out by himself.
What he improved through effort.
There’s no money involved.
No comparison.
Just joy in capability. A bit of showing off his strengths to show how proud is he off what he has achieved, created or made.
He often comes back to ask “How cool was that?” and expecting no other response other than “The coolest thing in this world” :)
At that age, the desire is simple and pure:
“Look what I can do.”
When I distil this further - he is in pursuit of a quiet request for admiration.
When comparison enters the room
Then I look at my nine-year-old.
He’s beginning to care deeply about getting better at basketball.
He wants to improve.
He wants to be competent.
He wants to be respected on the court.
But alongside that, something else has started to appear.
He tells me about kids with fancy bikes.
Smart watches where you can play games.
Things that signal “cool” with material possessions not just effort.
May be this is where material signalling begins to creep in ? - not loudly, but persistently.
The desire hasn’t changed.
It’s still respect and admiration.
Only the path has started to split.
Adulthood: when the stakes get higher
Fast forward to my own age and my peers.
The game looks different - but the motivation is identical.
Now it’s:
Bigger houses
Nicer cars
Better holidays
More impressive lifestyles
The list becomes endless.
And beneath it all sits the same quiet question:
“Am I doing well enough to be respected?”
“Will others admire this version of me?”
There is a constant need for validation - without even checking to see
Whether we are seeking this validation from the right person and
Life built over a time with mere comparison of someone has got that and that’s a signalling of the success and we should have it to - more living life on autopilot.
At work, it shows up in a different uniform.
We work hard.
We try to stay relevant.
We say thoughtful things in meetings.
We want to make meaningful impact in our own way.
Again, not just for money - but for acknowledgement.
For respect.
For admiration.
Even at the other end of life
Then I look at my parents.
They’re not chasing promotions or possessions anymore.
But the desire hasn’t disappeared.
It has transformed.
They connect with my kids by sharing stories.
By passing on wisdom.
By offering love, patience, and experience.
And beneath that, I can sense it:
A quiet hope that the grandchildren will look at them with respect.
With admiration. With warmth.
The same human longing - expressed gently, lovingly, and without demand.
That’s when it became impossible to ignore.
Across generations, cultures, and life stages, the pattern repeats.
The two things we all crave (even if we don’t say it out loud)
At the most fundamental level, I’ve come to believe this:
We are all chasing just two things.
Respect.
Admiration.
From a child showing a drawing…
To a teenager improving a skill…
To an adult upgrading a lifestyle…
To a grandparent sharing wisdom…
The form changes.
The desire does not.
There are broadly two ways we try to earn this:
Through material possessions
Through non-material possessions - skills, character, discipline, resilience
And while we understand this intellectually, our behaviour often leans heavily toward the material.
Because it’s visible.
Because it’s measurable.
Because money can accelerate it.
And slowly, almost unnoticed, we drift away from ourselves in pursuit of money thinking we acquiring all the material possessions will get us the respect and admiration from people.
The subtle cost of signalling
I see this in my own life.
Moments where my thoughts orbit upgrades and comparisons - benchmarks I never consciously chose.
That’s when I remind myself:
“Nobody thinks of me as much as I think they do.”
Most of the pressure is imagined.
Most of the judgement lives only in our heads.
Yet we stretch - financially and emotionally - to project success.
In doing so, we risk outsourcing our self-worth.
What actually endures
When I ask myself what I’m genuinely proud of, the answers are never things I’ve bought.
They are quieter:
Discipline built over time
Lessons learned through failure
Growth earned without applause
These non-material possessions take longer.
They demand patience.
But they stay.
And over time, something interesting happens.
Respect arrives naturally - without being chased.
Redefining “Enough”
As adults, we mistake signals for substance.
But what I actually want is simpler:
A home my ego feels safe in
A car that serves my life
A lifestyle that doesn’t need explanation
As the quote goes:
“One should aspire to have a calm mind, a fit body, and a house full of love. These things can’t be bought but have to be earned”
Everything else is optional.
Feeding the soul, not the scoreboard
When material needs are kept modest, something valuable is freed:
Energy.
Energy to become better.
To be healthier.
To create.
To be present.
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
I’m reminding myself constantly on what I compare against - pausing to reflect is that even worth pursuing.
Coming back to myself
The older I get, the more I notice a quiet tension.
There is often a gap between what we say we value and how we actually live.
Only we truly see that gap - though those closest to us may sense it too.
When the gap is wide, integrity feels diluted. When it narrows, life feels lighter.
Alignment brings peace.
Integrity isn’t perfection. It’s coherence.
And that’s a place worth actively pursuing.
A few questions I’m sitting with
Who am I trying to impress?
What non-material traits am I actively cultivating?
If nobody were watching, what would “enough” look like?
Where is the gap between my values and my actions?
What would change if I focused more on becoming than displaying?
Sometimes, the most meaningful progress doesn’t come from adding more.
It comes from letting go - and returning to what was always enough.
The destination is the same in searching for meaning, purpose in pursuing respect and admiration - though the journey might be different!