The Paradox of Desire

The Creative Fire of Desire, the Highest Outcome

(From Mantra, Tantra, Ayahuasca):

The paradox of desire lies in its dual nature as both a motivator and a potential source of suffering. Desire propels us toward what lies beyond the present moment, yet when fulfilled, it often gives way to a familiar ache: the pull for more.

You can feel it in so many places. In love and intimacy, the electric thrill of connection may tighten into knots of attachment, bringing pain when expectations collide or outcomes falter. Seeking personal growth can inspire transformation but can also lead to self-criticism and an endless striving for "better." The quest for possessions and experiences can turn into a perpetual motion machine: the fleeting high of unwrapping a coveted object, only for its shine to dull as the next craving emerges.

This tension—the beautiful, maddening, and utterly human paradox of desire—has engaged the attention of spiritual, philosophical, and psychological traditions for centuries. Yoga, Buddhism, and Tantra each approach it differently, offering maps for navigating its power- alternately seen as a hindrance to liberation and a gateway to deeper understanding. And modern understandings of what creates human identity and behavior layer on more understandings on the blocks and gates to naming desire. How do you imagine the highest outcome when desire itself is blocked, in a culture where your unique channel and access to inspiration are muted by family and cultural norms and stuctures, or dulled by experience?

Buddhism: Desire as the Root of Suffering

In Buddhism, desire is likened to a wheel spinning endlessly in mud, trapping us in cycles of craving and dissatisfaction. The teachings point to dukkha, the universal suffering caused by our attachment to impermanent things: the gleam of a new car, the warmth of a lover’s embrace, the applause of an audience.

When these things inevitably fade, we are left grasping, as if trying to hold water in our hands. The Buddhist path doesn’t ask us to reject desire outright but invites us to see it clearly. By recognizing the impermanence of all things, we can cultivate equanimity—a calm, spacious acceptance that allows us to let go of craving’s grip and embrace life as it is.

Yoga: Desire and Liberation

In classical yoga, desire is seen as a fire: capable of warming or consuming, depending on how it’s tended. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali describe kama (desire) as a force that binds us to the cycles of craving and aversion, keeping us trapped in the samsara of endless longing. Liberation, or moksha, comes not from extinguishing this fire but from mastering it.

The principle of vairāgya—non-attachment—is often misunderstood as suppression. But true non-attachment isn’t about denying desire; it’s about standing in the center of its flames without being burned. It’s the difference between watching the golden dance of a firepit on a crisp autumn night and throwing yourself into the blaze. Yoga teaches us to observe desire with steady curiosity, to act with clarity and purpose rather than compulsive grasping.

The Tantric Perspective: The Intelligence of Desire

In Tantra, however, desire is a fundamental vital energy that can lead to liberation and abundance. It points toward purpose, growth, creativity, and spiritual evolution.

Tantra sees desire not as an obstacle but as a sacred force, the pulse of life itself. In the Tantric view, everything—your body, your senses, the tender ache of longing—is an expression of the divine. The Tantric path integrates the spiritual and the material, emphasizing an embodied liberation, where the divine is realized through, rather than apart from, human experience. Desire itself is neither to be glorified nor shunned, but understood as a force that can point us toward greater self-awareness and connection.

Imagine the sensation of biting into a ripe mango, the juice running down your fingers. Or the warmth of sunlight streaming through a window, touching your skin. Tantra reminds us that these moments are not distractions but doorways—inviting us into a deeper, more vibrant relationship with existence.

But Tantra is no advocate for reckless indulgence. It calls for discernment: to distinguish between impulse, habit, and wisdom arising. Desire, when approached consciously, becomes a compass, pointing us toward purpose, creativity, and spiritual evolution. It is both the fuel and the path, guiding us to transform longing into a source of insight and vitality.

You get to choose between transcending the body and it’s desire, or the embodied spirituality that includes, integrates and refines.

Dissolving Blocks to Touching Desire

In walking on this path, I’ve encountered many people who can’t touch their desire. They don’t know what they want, or they secretly know and can’t express it. Sometimes that’s not even on the big, bold questions- it can be as simple as what do I want to eat, or wear. From an early age, many of us are conditioned to mistrust our desires.

Yet for many, desire feels inaccessible. I’ve met countless people who say, “I don’t even know what I want.” Sometimes it’s not the grand existential questions that stump them—it’s the small, everyday decisions: what to eat, what to wear, what they truly feel in a given moment.

This disconnection often stems from early conditioning. As children, we’re taught to mistrust our desires, especially those deemed too bold, too selfish, too much. Gender roles add another layer: women often learn to prioritize others’ needs over their own, while men are funneled into narrow channels of acceptable ambition. Religious or puritanical teachings may deepen this mistrust, whispering that desire must be renounced to achieve virtue.

Fear, too, is a powerful silencer. The fear of rejection or failure can keep desire locked behind closed doors. But there’s also a subtler fear: the fear of success. What happens if we follow our desire and it demands a new identity, a reconfigured life? What if stepping into our longing costs us the comfort and belonging we’ve worked so hard to secure?

Past experiences of betrayal, abuse, or profound disappointment can also create protective barriers around desire. These barriers, while intended to keep us safe, can also numb our ability to feel or trust our longings. Trauma often disconnects us from our bodies, and since desire arises first as a felt sense, this disconnection can make it nearly impossible to access what we truly want. The body, holding the memory of pain, may whisper, “Don’t go there—it’s not safe.”

Sometimes it’s low self-worth. Many people carry an unconscious belief that they don’t deserve to have their desires met. The voice of unworthiness might say, “Who am I to want this? What makes me think I’m special enough to receive it?” These internalized narratives become self-fulfilling.

And then there’s just plain stress. The modern world for many people is built on an economic structure that makes it hard to find the space to touch true desire. Countless distractions, overwork and chronic stress leave little room for reflection or presence, dulling the senses and turning desire into a faint background noise.

Reconnecting with desire means slowing down enough to notice the subtle stirrings within, turning inward, to befriend the body and the sensations it holds, and to meet our longings without judgment. The culture of instant gratification—where superficial pleasures are readily available—can erode our ability to connect with deeper, more authentic desires. Instead of tuning into what truly matters, we settle for substitutes that leave us unfulfilled. If we reduce desire to a list of wants or treat it as something to control, and might miss its transformative potential.

Cultivating a Discerning Relationship to Desire

In Tantra, we cultivate a relationship with desire that is rooted in curiosity, compassion, and courage- and open ourselves to our purpose and to the boundless possibilities of life. We begin to recognize the ways in which desire has been shaped by conditioning—our upbringing, culture, and past experiences—and how it often whispers to us in ways we might not fully comprehend.

Through this discernment, we find the space to pause before acting, to feel into the energy of desire without rushing to fulfill or suppress it. What is this desire trying to reveal? Is it calling us toward growth and deeper intimacy, or is it a reenactment of a familiar pattern? By staying present with these questions, we can distinguish between fleeting impulses, habitual reactions, and the deeper wisdom that emerges when we align desire with our highest truth.

Free to Imagine the Highest Good

Once I was given a prompt to magine the “Taj Mahal outcome”—the highest good I could envision. I froze. At that time, I was so entrenched in the frequency of complaint, of seeing only the immediate step ahead, that I couldn’t stretch into possibility. The edges of my imagination felt clipped, conditioned by years of caution and constraint. Eventually, I began to let myself dream.

What is the highest good I can imagine? Not just for myself but for this miraculous, interconnected world. Could I let it be bold, overflowing, beyond reason? When we allow ourselves to imagine the highest good, we unravel the limits we’ve inherited. Those quiet stories about what we’re allowed to want, who we’re allowed to be, begin to dissolve. For so many of us, this feels dangerous. Too much. Audacious. Maybe you feel the weight of fear—the fear of disappointment, of longing for something so immense that it might slip through your fingers.

The highest good will look different for everyone. It might be a life brimming with intimacy and purpose. An amazing home and community. Mastery of an art form. It might be an exuberant creativity. It might be the stillness of dawn, where you feel utterly at home in your breath, your body, your being. Or it might be something wilder: a world in radiant harmony, where every being thrives.

When you let yourself imagine the highest good, you begin to unravel any quiet, heavy stories about what you’re allowed to want, who you’re allowed to be, what the world can hold. The world wants your gifts, you joy and you are worthy of the beauty you long for.

Also, PS, imagining the highest good doesn’t require knowing how. You don’t need a map, or a plan, or even certainty. You only need a willingness to let your heart dream freely. That in itself is a becoming.