Image by Mirko Grisendi from Pixabay
There’s a strange thing about achieving a goal: we chase it, we crave it, we finally get it... and then, quietly, we ask ourselves, “Now what?”
It’s a pattern so many of us have experienced, especially in our youth, when goals feel like stepping stones to happiness. I still remember setting a goal for something I deeply wanted. I worked hard for it, pulling late nights, sacrificing outings, mentally visualizing the moment I would finally “get there.”, and giving it everything. And I did. I succeeded. It was supposed to feel like a peak. Yes, I was happy, and it felt amazing. For a while. But that feeling didn’t last. Within days, I found myself craving something more, and I started thinking, “Okay, but what next?”
That’s when I had a realization: we humans are wired to keep wanting. And that satisfaction is almost always short-lived.
There’s even a psychological term for this. It’s called hedonic adaptation.
Hedonic adaptation explains why humans get used to both good and bad changes in life. No matter how exciting or devastating something feels at first, our emotional response eventually returns to a baseline.
So, you land your dream job or buy that expensive phone, and you feel thrilled. But give it a few weeks, and it just becomes your new normal.
This is why we’re never fully satisfied. Our brains are designed to reset happiness levels, pushing us to keep striving, chasing, and achieving. It’s a survival mechanism from our ancestors that once helped them stay alert and ambitious. But in today’s world, it often feels like a trap.
You finally get what you worked so hard for: your dream college, or the milestone you set months ago. There’s a rush, a moment of pride, even joy.
But then the thrill fades. As if the moment passes too quickly to hold.
And before you know it, your eyes are already scanning for the next thing. A better role. A faster phone. A higher target. The world doesn’t stop to let you enjoy the moment, it nudges you forward, whispering, “What’s next?”
And soon, we want the next thing. The better thing. The bigger thing.
What’s tricky is how natural this chase feels. We have heard people praising it and saying, “Keep grinding.” “Never settle,”. And we listen, without questioning if the finish line actually exists. Until one day we stop to look around and realize how much we’ve missed in the chase.
We call it progress. But sometimes, it feels more like an endless loop, like chasing the horizon, where the closer you get, the further it seems.
Or just running in circles, hoping the next lap will finally feel like an arrival?
As Naval Ravikant once said:
“Desire is a contract you make with yourself to be unhappy until you get what you want.”
So Why Are We Like This?
Have you ever wondered why we feel so restless even after getting what we want?
It turns out, our brains were wired for a very different world than the one we live in now.
Thousands of years ago, during the time of early humans, life was all about survival. You had to constantly search for food, stay alert for danger, and look for better shelter. If someone back then felt too comfortable or too satisfied, they might stop trying, and that could be the difference between life and death.
But the problem is: our survival tools didn’t retire when the danger did.
So our brains developed a system to keep us moving, searching, and improving. A little dissatisfaction helped our ancestors stay alive.
That same brain is still inside us, but the world has changed. We’re not running from wild animals anymore. We’re not starving for food or fighting to stay warm in caves. But our brains haven’t caught up to this safer, more comfortable life. They still treat small inconveniences, like not getting a promotion or comparing your vacation to someone else's on Instagram, as if they're survival threats.
So we keep chasing. We keep comparing.
We keep thinking: “Once I get this, I’ll be happy.”
And the moment we get it? That feeling fades.
And the cycle starts all over again.
Every time we achieve something big or small, our brain rewards us: a hit of dopamine. It’s the chemical that makes us feel good, excited, even euphoric for a moment.
But that feeling? It fades. Fast.
Like a sugar rush, it gives us a temporary high... and then it crashes. So what do we do? We look for the next hit. A better grade, a flashier car, more likes on Instagram, a cooler title at work.
Slowly, without even realizing it, we start to depend on that “next big thing” to feel good. We keep confusing achievement with fulfillment.
But here's the twist: they’re not the same thing.
Achievement is external. Fulfillment is internal.
One ends as soon as the applause fades. The other lasts quietly in the background, even when no one’s watching. We spend our lives chasing the first, while forgetting to nurture the second.
In the endless pursuit of success, we often sacrifice more than we realize. We become so focused on the next milestone that we forget to acknowledge the moment we're in. The satisfaction of completing something meaningful is quickly overshadowed by the pressure to achieve something greater.
Instead of appreciating how far we've come, we dwell on what's left to accomplish. Our self-worth becomes tied to goals yet to be reached rather than values we already hold.
We start evaluating our worth through incomplete checklists and unrealistic comparisons. Many of us feel guilty for taking a break or inadequate when scrolling through others’ carefully curated successes online. This isn’t just drive, it’s a dependence on doing more, having more, and being more.
It’s like playing a video game where the next level always promises happiness, but when you reach it, the goalpost has already moved. The reward you were chasing fades, and you're off to the next challenge before you’ve even taken a breath.
And this leads to an important realization: if we never allow ourselves to feel satisfied, no matter how far we've come, then what are we running toward?
Gratitude is everywhere these days, from Instagram to aesthetic journals and glowing captions. But in reality, gratitude isn’t an accessory. It’s a necessity.
Being satisfied doesn’t mean you give up on your dreams. It means you’ve developed the emotional maturity to appreciate what’s in your hands while still reaching for what’s on the horizon. You know how to slow down without stopping, how to celebrate without settling.
Gratitude reminds us of the things we once desperately wished for but now take for granted. When we’re constantly focused on what’s next, we miss the joy of what’s now.
That’s like preparing a feast and forgetting to taste it.
At this point, it’s natural to wonder: “But isn’t growth important? Shouldn’t we always strive to become better?” And the answer is, absolutely, yes. Growth is a vital part of the human experience. Striving to improve ourselves can bring purpose, direction, and even joy. But the key lies in understanding why we want to grow.
True growth should come from a place of self-awareness, not self-loathing. There's a significant difference between saying, “I want to grow because I’m excited to explore my full potential,” and “I need to grow because I’m not enough as I am.”
The first mindset is grounded in peace. It recognizes your current self as worthy, while still being curious about what more you can become. The second, however, stems from a sense of inadequacy, a feeling that you must constantly prove your worth by doing more, becoming more, achieving more.
You can work on self-improvement while also accepting and appreciating who you are today. Growth should feel like a gift you give yourself, not a punishment for not being perfect yet.
Honestly? We slow down. The first step is simply becoming aware, watching the way our mind constantly reaches for the next thing. And when it does, we gently guide it back to the present moment, to what is already here. Here’s what might help:
In the end, as Thích Nhất Hạnh said,
“The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion.”
This is a reminder to slow down and savor what you’ve achieved, and to ask yourself: are we truly living in the present, or simply chasing what’s next?