Needs – Fulfilment or imaginary?
At its core, ‘need’ represents a perceived lack within our lives. Whether it’s a need for something material like food or shelter, or something psychological such as love or acceptance, every need suggests that something essential is missing. Desire, according to Buddhist philosophy, leads to suffering because it perpetuates a state of lacking and grasping. When needs arise, they disturb our peace by suggesting that our current state is insufficient.
When a need is fulfilled, it confirms its existence as something genuine. For example, the need for nourishment is affirmed as real when eating relieves the pangs of hunger. Here, the need aligns with a fundamental requirement for survival. Conversely, if a need fades away without being fulfilled, one might argue it was never a true need but rather a transient desire. This observation is particularly relevant in the context of emotional or psychological needs, where distinguishing between deep-seated necessities and superficial wants becomes complex.

The paradox lies in the dual nature of needs as both real and illusory. On one hand, certain needs are indisputably real, as their fulfillment directly pertains to survival and well-being. On the other, many needs, when scrutinized, reveal themselves as constructs of the mind, shaped by societal, cultural, and personal expectations and conditioning. Stoic philosophy, for instance, teaches the value of distinguishing between what we can control and what we cannot, urging a detachment from external desires and an acceptance of what is. This detachment is not about suppression of need but rather a profound understanding of the ephemerality of external conditions.
Existentially, needs can be viewed as anchors that give meaning to our lives. Yet, this meaning is often predicated on the continual pursuit of fulfillment, which can lead to an endless cycle of desire and disappointment. Spiritually, transcending needs can be seen as a path to enlightenment, where one achieves a state of contentment and unity with all existence, free from the dualities of lack and fulfillment. Exploring the concept of need across both living and non-living entities broadens our understanding of the fundamental nature of existence. In living beings, needs are typically biologically or psychologically driven, manifesting as impulses towards survival, reproduction, and social bonding. In contrast, the ‘needs’ of non-living entities—such as the need for maintenance or preservation—are attributed by human perspectives, often reflecting our own values or necessities imposed upon objects or systems.

When a need vanishes without fulfillment, it raises profound questions about its existence. Was it a real need, or merely a temporary desire? This question aligns with the philosophical inquiry into the nature of being and non-being. In metaphysical terms, the disappearance of a need without fulfillment suggests that it may have been a contingent, not a necessary state. Contingent needs are dependent on specific conditions and perceptions, which can change over time and context, leading to the dissolution of the perceived need. The journey towards fulfilling a need is often fraught with turmoil and dissatisfaction. This chaos, particularly evident in the human experience, stems from the tension between current states of lack and the anticipated states of fulfillment. Psychologically, this turmoil can be seen in the frustration, anxiety, and even despair that arise in the pursuit of unmet needs. The existential tension here is the human confrontation with limitation and imperfection.
Philosophically, the condition of being ‘in need’ can be seen as a fundamental aspect of the human condition. Existential philosophers have long grappled with the notion of lack as a core component of existence. Jean-Paul Sartre, for instance, discussed how human consciousness is defined by a lack—being “for-itself” implies a constant striving towards an elusive “in-itself,” a state of being that remains perpetually out of reach, creating a perpetual state of desire and resultant existential void.
From another perspective, the chaos and discomfort experienced in the face of unmet needs can also be transformative. This aligns with the concept of “creative destruction” in economic theory, where old structures must be destroyed to make way for new, potentially more adaptive arrangements. Psychologically, enduring the discomfort of unfulfilled needs can lead to personal growth, resilience, and a deeper understanding of oneself and one’s true priorities. In spiritual traditions, particularly those influenced by non-dualistic philosophies, the ultimate aim is often described as transcending need altogether. This transcendence is not about achieving a state where no physical or psychological needs exist, but rather reaching a state of consciousness where one is no longer enslaved by those needs. This state is characterized by a profound inner peace and contentment, where external conditions no longer dictate one’s inner state. Thus, the existence of need, its fulfillment, or its vanishing without impact each carry significant implications. These phenomena invite us to reflect on the ephemeral and often illusory nature of needs. They challenge us to consider whether true fulfillment comes from satisfying every need or from cultivating a state of being that is free from the tyranny of need.

As we delve further into the dynamics of need and its fulfillment, it becomes crucial to distinguish between short-term satisfaction and long-term fulfillment. Immediate resolution of needs often brings temporary relief, but the underlying drivers—whether emotional, psychological, or spiritual—may still persist. This introduces a cyclical pattern where fulfilled needs may resurface or evolve into new desires, suggesting that the root of need is not merely in the external lack but in a deeper, internal void. Existentially, the concept of need pushes individuals to confront their freedom and responsibility. Jean-Paul Sartre’s idea of existential freedom suggests that while we are free to pursue our needs, we are also responsible for the choices we make in response to these needs. This freedom is double-edged; it empowers but also burdens us with the responsibility of discernment and decision-making, highlighting the existential challenge of navigating needs without clear, predefined paths. The pursuit of fulfilling all needs can create an illusion that perpetual satisfaction is attainable. This illusion can lead to constant striving and dissatisfaction, as each fulfilled need often gives rise to new desires. Philosophically, this reflects the Buddhist teaching on the nature of desire and suffering. Recognizing this cycle can lead to a profound existential and spiritual inquiry: Is there an end to need, or is the human condition inherently defined by endless desire?
In spiritual traditions, particularly those advocating non-attachment and detachment, the ultimate freedom is described as a state of needlessness. This does not imply a lack of engagement with the world but rather an engagement that is free from the compulsion of needs. Achieving such a state is often described as enlightenment, where one exists in complete harmony with the universe, undisturbed by individual desires and aversions. One of the central paradoxes in the realm of need is the tension between dependence and independence. On one hand, fulfilling basic needs often requires interdependence—relying on others and the environment, which seemingly contradicts the ideal of self-sufficiency. On the other hand, the more we fulfill certain needs, the more autonomous we may become, capable of pursuing higher, more abstract needs such as self-actualization. Yet, this pursuit can lead back to new dependencies, such as the need for validation or intellectual stimulation, illustrating a cyclical return to interdependence.
Needs emerge from a sense of lack or emptiness, driving us to seek fulfillment to feel complete. Paradoxically, this quest for completion through fulfilling needs can deepen the sense of emptiness, as each fulfillment often reveals new voids. This reflects the Buddhist notion that desire (and its fulfillment) inherently leads to suffering due to the impermanent nature of all conditioned phenomena. Thus, the very act of seeking wholeness through external fulfillment paradoxically perpetuates emptiness. Another paradox lies in the relationship between desire and liberation. In many spiritual traditions, liberation is attained through the cessation of desire. However, the initial movement towards liberation itself arises from a desire—the desire to be free from suffering. This presents a fundamental paradox: one must harness desire to ultimately transcend all desires. The path to liberation, therefore, involves navigating through desires in a way that gradually diminishes their power over one’s state of being. The pursuit of self-improvement is often driven by the recognition of one’s needs and deficiencies. This pursuit, intended to overcome limitations, paradoxically reaffirms those limitations by constantly highlighting areas of lack. The more one engages in self-improvement, the more one might become aware of further imperfections, potentially leading to a never-ending cycle of self-enhancement and the persistent sense of being ‘not enough.’
The ultimate understanding is that distinctions between need and fulfillment are illusory—both are manifestations of the same underlying reality, perceived differently due to mental conditioning and dualistic thinking. Here, the paradox is that need and its resolution are not truly separate; they are two sides of the same coin. Recognizing this non-duality can lead to a profound shift in how one experiences need and fulfillment, seeing them not as opposing forces but as interconnected aspects of life’s unfolding.
Depths of Hurt: An Intriguing Emotion
At its core, hurt is an emotional response to a perceived loss or violation. This loss can be tangible, such as the loss of a loved one, or intangible, like the loss of respect or love. The perception of this loss is crucial; it’s not the objective situation that determines hurt, but how one interprets and internalizes it. The origins of hurt can be traced back to our earliest human experiences. As infants, we are utterly dependent on others for our survival, leading to a deep-rooted need for attachment and acceptance. This need, while essential for survival, also becomes the breeding ground for hurt. When our expectations of support, love, or acknowledgment are unmet, we experience hurt.
Hurt often manifests differently in personal and professional contexts, yet the underlying mechanics are surprisingly similar. In personal relationships, hurt is often more directly linked to emotional bonds and expectations of love, loyalty, and understanding. In professional settings, while the emotional stakes may seem lower, the hurt can still be profound. It often stems from unmet expectations regarding respect, recognition, or the outcome of our efforts. The statement “don’t take it personally” in professional environments is an acknowledgment of this complexity. It attempts to draw a boundary between the personal self and the professional role. Yet, this separation is often not as clear-cut as it seems. Our professional lives are an extension of our personal selves; the values, aspirations, and efforts we put into our work are deeply personal. Thus, when we face criticism, rejection, or failure at work, it can still impact our personal self-esteem and sense of worth.

The hurt one experiences is often a reflection of internal expectations and self-perception. When others do not meet our expectations, or when we fail to meet our own, we experience a sense of loss. This loss is not just about the external situation but also about our internal narrative. We construct stories about who we are and how the world should respond to us. When reality diverges from these stories, we feel hurt. Understanding hurt requires dissecting the dichotomy between external causes and internal reactions. Is hurt caused by others, or is it self-inflicted? The answer is nuanced. Others can act as triggers, but the actual experience of hurt is an internal process. It is our interpretation of events, filtered through our personal beliefs and past experiences, that generates hurt. human experience. We are beings of desire and expectation, living in a world that is constantly changing and often unpredictable. This disconnect between our desires and reality is a fertile ground for hurt. However, this inevitability doesn’t imply helplessness. It requires a shift from external validation to internal self-acceptance, and from rigid expectations to flexible aspirations. This journey towards resilience is not about becoming indifferent or uncaring, but about cultivating a grounded sense of self that can navigate the ups and downs of life with equanimity.
Developmental psychology, for instance, sheds light on how early experiences shape our vulnerability to hurt. Childhood, where the foundation of our self-esteem and worldviews are formed, significantly influences how we perceive and react to potential hurts in later life. Attachment suggests that our early bonding experiences with caregivers form templates for future relationships. Secure attachments lead to resilience, while insecure attachments can heighten our sensitivity to rejection and loss, predisposing us to deeper hurt.
Hurt also stems from conflicts of human existence – our search for meaning in an indifferent universe, the realization of our freedoms and limitations, and the ultimate confrontation with our mortality. Our self-perception plays a critical role in this process. If we perceive ourselves as capable and deserving, failing to meet expectations can lead to self-criticism and hurt. Conversely, if we see ourselves as unworthy, we may internalize external negative outcomes as confirmations of this belief, perpetuating cycles of hurt and low self-esteem.

Let us take a simple example where you feel hurt due to a longing for more time and attention from a loved one, even though you recognize they are doing their best. At the heart of your experience lies a paradox: you have an expectation (desiring more time and attention) and simultaneously an understanding (knowing your loved one is doing their best). This dichotomy is not just a matter of conflicting thoughts, but a reflection of the complex nature of human needs and empathy. On one hand, your need for time and attention is genuine – a fundamental aspect of human relationships where such connections and affirmations are essential for emotional bonding and fulfillment. On the other hand, your empathetic understanding of your loved one’s circumstances shows a depth of maturity and compassion. Feeling hurt in this context may arise from an unmet need, which is central to your emotional wellbeing. It’s important to recognize that such needs are not just whimsical desires; they are integral to our sense of connection and belonging. When these needs are not fully met, even in the presence of understanding and rationalization, it creates an emotional void, often experienced as hurt. The consequences of this paradox can be profound. When the fear of burdening outweighs the need for communication, individuals might choose to suppress or hide their feelings. This suppression, while it might seem to maintain harmony in the short term, can lead to several negative outcomes like emotional distance, resentment or misunderstanding. However, this need for emotional expression often collides with an equally powerful force – the fear of overburdening others. This fear stems from a place of empathy and concern, where we become acutely aware of the other person’s potential struggles and challenges. It also arises from our own vulnerabilities; the fear of being seen as needy, weak, or burdensome. Moreover, there’s an underlying concern about the dynamics of the relationship itself – the worry that being too open about our troubles or desires might alter the equilibrium of the relationship, potentially leading to conflict, distance, or discomfort.
At the heart of this paradox is our self-concept, the multifaceted perception we hold of ourselves. This self-concept is not static; it is shaped by our experiences, beliefs, and the feedback we receive from our environment. When we consider communicating our innermost thoughts and feelings, we are also negotiating with our self-concept. Are we someone who burdens others? Are we worthy of being heard and understood? These questions reflect deeper insecurities and beliefs about our worthiness and role in our relationships. The fear of being a burden often stems from a vulnerable place in our self-concept, where we doubt our value in the eyes of others. The complexity of this paradox also lies in the dynamic nature of human relationships. Each relationship we form is a unique intersection of personalities, histories, and expectations. In some relationships, there may be an established pattern of one person being the caregiver and the other the receiver. Attempting to reverse or alter these roles by expressing one’s own vulnerabilities can feel disruptive and fraught with uncertainty. There’s also the aspect of reciprocity – the balance of give and take. In healthy relationships, this balance is fluid and flexible, but the fear of disturbing this balance can make the act of communication seem daunting.
Psychologically, this paradox is intersecting with our deepest fears and vulnerabilities. It often triggers core issues related to self-worth, rejection, and abandonment. When we contemplate sharing our burdens, we are not just sharing a specific problem or feeling; we are also, on a deeper level, testing our acceptability and worthiness in the eyes of others. The fear that our vulnerabilities might make us less worthy of love or respect can be a powerful deterrent to open communication…
Love and Longing – A paradox ??
The experience of longing for love is universal and deeply rooted in our humanity. This longing, often described as an unquenchable thirst, is both a blessing and a burden, driving us to form connections, seek fulfillment, and explore the depths of our own emotions.
Delving into the realm of quantum physics, there’s an intriguing principle known as quantum entanglement. It suggests that two particles, once entwined, will remain connected irrespective of distance. A change in the state of one will instantly affect the state of the other, no matter how far apart they are.

Drawing a parallel to human emotions, particularly longing, one could argue that individuals form ’emotional entanglements.’ The sense of connection might not be physical but is as intense, enduring, and mystifying as quantum entanglements. This could be the reason why, even in separation, our emotions remain tethered to another person, place, or memory. Longing is a complex emotion that can arise from various sources. At its core, it’s a yearning for something that seems to be just out of reach. We might long for a loved one, for a sense of belonging, for an idealized version of the world, or for a deeper connection with ourselves.
Our longing for love can be seen as a biological imperative. Our ancestors who formed strong social bonds and felt a deep connection to their kin were more likely to survive and reproduce. As a result, the longing for love and connection is deeply ingrained in our genetic makeup. Our experiences shape our emotional responses. For instance, early attachment experiences with caregivers can influence our future relationships and how we perceive love. Similarly, our psychological makeup, shaped by both nature and nurture, affects how we experience longing.

The relationship between love and longing is paradoxical. On the one hand, love can make us feel whole, bringing joy and fulfillment. On the other hand, it can also create a sense of longing, especially when faced with separation or unfulfilled desires. This tension is often evident in poetry and art, where love and longing are intertwined in complex ways. When we are in love, we often feel a sense of completeness. The world seems brighter, and we may experience a deep sense of contentment. This feeling arises from the connection and emotional intimacy that love brings. In these moments, longing may fade into the background. Despite the fulfillment that love offers, it can also create a sense of longing. When separated from a loved one, the intensity of our love can manifest as a deep yearning for their presence. This longing can also arise from unmet emotional needs, unfulfilled desires, or the idealization of love.
Love and longing are not mutually exclusive; they often coexist. The very act of loving someone can make us more aware of their absence when they are not around. Similarly, longing can intensify our love, making us cherish our moments of connection even more. This dynamic interplay adds depth to our emotional experiences.
Longing is not a singular emotion; it encompasses a range of feelings, including hope, desire, melancholy, and even pain. Longing often involves a strong desire for something or someone. This desire can create a sense of anticipation, making us look forward to future possibilities. The act of longing can be both exciting and agonizing, as we await the fulfillment of our desires. Longing can also be rooted in the past. We may long for a time when we felt loved, accepted, or understood. This sense of nostalgia can be accompanied by melancholy, as we realize that the past cannot be recaptured. Sometimes, longing arises from idealization. We may create a mental image of the perfect partner, the ideal life, or a utopian world. These idealized visions can make us feel discontented with our current reality, fueling a sense of longing. Longing can be painful, especially when it feels unending or unrequited. The intensity of our yearning can create a sense of suffering, as we grapple with the gap between our desires and reality.

Wrestling with the feelings associated with longing can lead to deeper emotional intelligence. Through introspection, we can learn more about ourselves, our needs, and our desires. Understanding the root of our longing can help us address underlying issues or unmet needs in our lives. everyone has felt it at some point. Recognizing this shared experience can foster empathy towards others and deepen our human connections. By understanding our own feelings of longing, we become better equipped to empathize with others.
Life is characterized by dualities: happiness and sorrow, presence and absence, fulfillment and yearning. While these might seem contradictory, they often exist side by side and give depth to our experiences.
Presence in Absence: Even in the absence of what we long for, there’s a certain presence of that object or person in our thoughts and emotions. This phenomenon speaks to the power of our minds and hearts to transcend physical limitations.
Completeness in Incompleteness: The very feeling of longing suggests that there’s something we deem essential for our completeness. However, the journey of life is about realizing that, in many ways, we are already complete in our incompleteness. The gaps and spaces create room for growth, evolution, and understanding.
Stability in Flux: Our feelings, including longing, are in constant flux. They come and go, intensify and wane. But beneath these changing emotions, there’s a stable core of self, a foundational aspect of our being that remains unswayed.
