#020 You are asleep. That is why you suffer
Zombie-like, you chase illusions while the real treasure is already within you.
You suffer.
That is irrefutable proof that you are asleep.
Like a zombie on autopilot, chasing pleasure, power, or recognition—chasing the "glory" and "success" they sold us on magazine covers (now social media posts) and Hollywood stories.
How do we stop suffering? How do we reach happiness? How do we get there? How do we achieve glory, success?
We believe the magic lies in one word:
Money.
We’ve placed our faith in it.
Naively, we find ourselves dreaming of a better tomorrow, letting the grace of the present slip through our fingers. The present, however it looks, is the only reality we have. And though we may not understand it, it is a gift—it is the "present."
We bow before the golden calf and turn our backs on the real path to peace, prosperity, and true abundance.
"No one can serve two masters..."
We live in a neurotic society that worships money, desperately seeking it like an addict in Philadelphia searches for fentanyl—something to soothe the anguish, something to fill the void.
Too harsh?
Am I going too far?
You need a bucket of cold water.
Wake up!
I’m not here to write what you want to hear—that’s what marketing agencies are for. I write what you don’t want to hear. I write to make you stop dreaming and start living.
Wake up!
To some degree, you and I both suffer from a neurosis we don’t even recognize. The anxiety we live with has become a natural part of our daily lives. We've developed all kinds of coping mechanisms and adaptive behaviors to disconnect from it, to temporarily and superficially reduce stress.
The void created by existential uncertainty is filled with future promises of achievement and success, of finding meaning, of filling that void with money.
We’re asleep—and we don’t know it.
We were born into a predesigned world, framed by social norms and the specific dynamics of human "evolution."
Within this setting, we’ve learned to function, accepting what we’ve been given, told, and shown.
Without listening to our soul, we live imposed "truths" that bring us anguish, distorting our own perception of reality.
Family, social, and religious mandates shaped by a morality born from the evolutionary process of our species—tainted by power struggles and the need to survive our own instinct for domination and ambition.
The law of the "strongest" seems to have evolved from physical might to economic dominance. But it’s just a costume change—it’s still about force. Not the brute strength of the body, but the intimidating power of money, and the military and police machinery it funds.
This law of the strongest has made fear our guiding principle.
Fear, the main enemy of fully enjoying the present moment, creates a tension between what our soul whispers and what the status quo shouts—disguising money as the solution to our sense of helplessness and unworthiness. And so, we chase it at all costs, believing it will provide the safety we need to enjoy life.
"If I have money, I’ll have security. And if I have security, I’ll finally enjoy my earthly experience."
We’ve mistaken money for a vaccine against fear.
This "money neurosis"—the false belief that if we accumulate enough economic power, we’ll be safe.
That’s why we live in a constant state of anxiety, unease, frustration, depression, a crushing sense of dissatisfaction tied to money and wealth. It keeps us from enjoying the present, from living freely and abundantly, and limits our potential as creators of value.
Why are we here?
What is the meaning of life?
We use money as a pretext to give life meaning.
But we don’t realize: life has no meaning. Life’s meaning isn’t something to be found—it’s something we create in every present moment.
You give your life meaning. You define money’s role in it.
Are you at the service of money? Or is money at your service?
We search for purpose, fixate on it with anxiety, picture it as a future ideal. And in doing so, we forget to live.
The future is a clever trickster. It seduces us, provokes us, lures us in. Dazzled by its grand promises and short bursts of dopamine from shallow illusions, we lose sight of the only thing that’s real: the present.
The future is a cunning oppressor. It intimidates us, terrifies us. Bent by fear, we miss what’s truly real: the present.
The future exists only in our anxious minds—because when it arrives, it’s the present.
Accept that life is a mystery. No matter how much we seek, we can never foresee the destination life has in store for us.
Surrender to the truth that the great purpose—the reason for our existence—will only be clear with our last breath. It will only make sense when the final word is written, the last brushstroke made, the final note played. Before that, it’s not complete. So, it can’t be appreciated. It can’t be fully understood. It can’t be found.
We navigate a consumerist society that pressures and confuses us.
The cult of success, the duties imposed by the status quo we were born into, the fears and frustrations of our ancestors, our parents, our loved ones—all these projections and expectations weigh on us. They fill us with anxiety. They keep us from truly enjoying life.
We let ourselves be seduced—neurotically—by siren songs. Their seductive voices and unattainable promises leave us exhausted, like dogs chasing their tails. They lead our ship straight into the jagged cliffs of unconsciousness and existential frustration.
Unconsciously, we give in to pressure. And so, the “shoulds” arise—the role models, the revealed truths. We chase them like automatons, without ever stopping to ask ourselves: What do I actually want? What drives me to live?
We haven’t developed critical thinking. We’re afraid to question, to doubt the “truths” that are shouted into our ears. So we settle, in silence, for what we’ve been given—what others have served onto our plate.
The search for purpose has become yet another neurosis.
We crave clarity about why we exist. We want the certainty of walking a path whose destination is already known.
Uncertainty terrifies us. Taking a step without knowing why we’re doing it throws us out of our comfort zone. Walking in the dark makes us uneasy. It forces us to get creative—to find our own light, to discover our true motivation for walking.
We pile up excuses for not taking the step we know we must take. We become expert procrastinators, watching the days slip by without excitement or passion, collecting wrinkles and extra pounds, spooning Nutella to calm our existential anxiety, hypnotized by Netflix, Instagram, and Facebook—dreaming of the life we don’t dare to live. Waiting for someone or something to magically solve the eternal dilemma of “to be or not to be,” to walk or wait a little longer, to wait for the perfect moment when all the variables—so carefully justified by our oppressive logic—align so the step won’t be in vain.
We’re terrified it might be the wrong step.
Mediocrity craves certainty, comfort, and minimal effort. And so, we become just another sleeper in the armies of the timid—those who walk through this life without ever daring to live a single day in freedom.
Freedom from the chains of our own self-imposed limitations. Freedom from the fear of life itself. Without allowing ourselves to enjoy the richness of what we’ve been given since day one. Without even seeing it. Without accepting that uncertainty is the only certainty—and the joy of life lies in embracing it, in trusting that no matter what, we will come out better from the storm. Whether the ship crashes or we make it through, we will win.
Easy paths are forgettable. They’re boring to walk.
The difficult paths—the ones we take blindly, without baggage or compass—are the true teachers. They leave lasting lessons in the mind and transform the heart. They leave a lifelong imprint that pushes us to integrate and evolve, to walk the path of consciousness ever more deeply.
To dare to live life is the very meaning of life.
The search is the path.
Suffer no more.
Wake up.
You’ll never find happiness…
…it’s always been within you.