Why Chasing Wealth, Honor, and Desire Never Brings True Happiness

Shlomo Hamelech (King Solomon) who was among the wealthiest men to ever live, said: “He who loves money will never be satisfied with money” (Kohelet 5:9). Even if such a person were given all the wealth in the world, he would still crave more.

Unless we learn to overcome this desire, we will never feel content or satisfied with what God has blessed us with.

The sages also taught (Kohelet Rabbah 1:32): “A person does not die with even half of his desires fulfilled.” If someone dies with a million dollars in his account, his desire was for at least two million — and he left this world with less than half. The more intense the craving, the greater the sense of lack, because the missing half always grows larger.

So too they said: “One who has a hundred desires two hundred.” The richer a person is, the greater his emptiness. A man with $100,000 longs for another $100,000 — his sense of lack is $100,000. Someone with only $50,000 longs for another $50,000 — his lack is smaller, at only $50,000.

Desire for Pleasure Leaves You Empty

The same applies to lust for women. A person constantly chasing after more and more will never feel satisfied. Even if in Talmudic times he were permitted to marry four wives, his desire would return after a few months, urging him toward more without end. Happiness would never dwell in his home.

A person who is content with little, does not covet what isn’t his, and rejoices in his portion. When he marries, he feels that he has received far more than he deserves. He experiences deep fulfillment with the wife in his home.

The Trap of Chasing Honor

The endless hunger for respect is the root of sadness. Because there is no limit to the honor he seeks, he will never receive the recognition he believes he deserves. He will constantly feel undervalued by his wife, his children, and his colleagues. He will always chase honor but never find it.

The Talmudic Sages already declared: “He who chases honor — honor runs away from him” (Eruvin 13b).

The Half-Empty Cup

A man lies in bed at night, reviewing his day. He recalls that at synagogue no seat of honor was saved for him, the grocer barely noticed him, and at work or in the study hall nobody seemed impressed by his presence. At home, too, he felt underappreciated. As he falls asleep, his heart fills with sorrow. This is the bitter fate of one who craves honor.

Yearning for “Somewhere Else”

The same is true for someone who constantly dreams of being elsewhere. He longs to see New York, Thailand, London… but in the meantime he lives in a crowded neighborhood like Bnei Brak, surrounded by overflowing trash cans, and he feels miserable, convinced he is trapped in a pitiful life.

Consider another man, born in a poor transit camp, raised among crumbling huts, broken roads, and poor transportation, whose only “supermarket” was the corner grocery, and whose neighbors tossed garbage on each other’s roofs. When God finally expands his borders and he moves to Bnei Brak, he walks the streets in awe: “So many study halls! So many Torah scholars! So many shops! The roads are excellent, even the garbage bins are beautiful!” His lips cannot stop thanking God for the gift of living in Bnei Brak.

Blocking Joy with Unrealistic Comparisons

A Torah scholar who feels no satisfaction in his studies and who cannot find joy in learning Talmud or Shulchan Aruch, or even in fulfilling mitzvot, should examine himself. Perhaps it’s because he dreams of becoming a “giant of the generation,” mastering all Torah knowledge, and being recognized by the whole world. Maybe he has read many stories of great rabbis and thought, “I too can reach their level.” By setting such impossible standards, he destroys his own joy.

Each time he finishes a page of Talmud, he thinks: “What is this compared to the Chofetz Chaim?” If he understands one section of Shulchan Aruch, he sighs: “Rabbi Ovadia Yosef knew all of it by heart.” Even if he fulfills a rare mitzvah, like redeeming captives or sending away the mother bird, he mutters: “Still, I’ve done nothing compared to the Baba Sali.”

Thus, with his own hands, he drives joy out of his heart and replaces it with sadness.