"What do I really want out of life?" is the bonus question for the discouragedly successful. It waits in the darkness for its cue-a moment of self-honesty-and then it slips through the curtains of consciousness and steals the show. It comes up on the day the new car loses its shine or the applause loses its meaning or the ashram loses its glitter. It stalks the early morning hours of fitful sleepers. What do I really want out of life?

Have you ever desired something-an object, or recognition, or a special relationship-and discovered that the pleasure of actually having it was disappointing? This is a special kind of disappointment. You're not disappointed by failing to obtain your desire; you're disappointed with the prize.

Most people console themselves by setting the goal a little higher. They say to themselves, "It wasn't a Porsche I really wanted. What I really wanted was a Lamborghini." "It wasn't a million dollars, it was ten million dollars." "It wasn't a fifty foot yacht; it was a hundred foot yacht." This leads to the twisted wisdom: How much would it take to make me happy?

The answer, a little more.

Read the entire article by Harry Palmer here.