Not all wisdom applies to everyone

I was chatting with my mentee on WhatsApp the other day. It’s been a while since I served as a mentor with the Singapore Buddhist Mission, three seasons to be exact, but I still try my best to keep in touch with them. This particular mentee is someone who has always stood out to me. She’s curious, eager to learn the Dharma, and despite her tough background, she has a heart that genuinely seeks understanding.

She sent me a post she saw on Instagram that said,

“I thought my purpose and achievements would make the pain disappear. It only taught me how to hide it better.”

She told me it resonated with her deeply. I could understand why. Many of us grow up thinking that once we achieve enough, once we "make it," the pain or emptiness inside will fade away. But often, success just gives us a prettier mask to wear.

I told her, “Yes, many people mistakenly believe that achievements define who they are and their purpose, or that life must revolve only around a single, fixed goal or one dream.

It reminded me of what Steve Jobs said before he passed away:

“At this moment, lying on the sick bed and recalling my whole life, I realize that all the recognition and wealth that I took so much pride in have paled and become meaningless in the face of impending death.”

Even the most successful people lose their sense of purpose when life itself starts to lose its shine. Achievements don’t truly define who we are. As Buddhist practitioners, we understand that everything is impermanent — even the success we hold onto today will eventually fade. So it’s worth asking ourselves honestly: what is the real purpose behind all these achievements?

As Buddhists, we are reminded again and again that nothing truly belongs to us. Not our possessions, not our titles, not even the moments we cling to. Everything is constantly shifting. The Buddha said,

“All conditioned things are impermanent. When one sees this with wisdom, one turns away from suffering.” (Dhammapada 277)

So if achievements don’t define us, what does?

Despite all our clever ways of trying to understand life, through philosophy, poetry, religion, or self-help. Life itself remains silent, vast, and unmoved. We’ve been given minds capable of deep thought, yet that same awareness often traps us in endless questioning and discontent. Beneath all our busy thoughts and desires, we’re like wanderers lost in the forest of wanting, searching for something we can’t quite name.

Maybe the real question is not what we want to do, but how we want to live. We spend so much time chasing goals, comparing ourselves to others, and searching for meaning outside of us that we forget the simple truth: life itself is our practice ground.

I told my mentee that not all wisdom applies to everyone in the same way. Each of us comes from different backgrounds, carrying different karma. But the beauty of the Dharma is that it meets us where we are which is why there are so many different traditions and paths in Buddhism.

To reduce suffering, we need wisdom to dispel ignorance.
To gain wisdom, we need to perform wholesome actions.
To perform wholesome actions, we need compassion.
To cultivate compassion and help others effectively, we need skillful means.
And to develop skillful means, we return again to wisdom.

It’s like watering a garden. Compassion is the soil, wisdom is the sunlight, and skillful means are the tools we use. Each supports the other, and together, they allow our inner garden to bloom.

Wisdom doesn’t stand alone. It’s part of an ongoing, interdependent cycle — a practice woven together with many virtues like compassion, mindfulness, and patience. Everything supports everything else. That’s the beauty of the Dharma; it doesn’t have a clear beginning or end.

You can start anywhere, and the path still leads you toward understanding. Every Buddhist friend I’ve met has begun their journey differently, yet the essence of the practice remains the same. And often, it’s only when we begin to understand what we’re truly living for that we discover a deeper purpose and a kind of success that goes beyond this fleeting life.

Some people, like my friend Gareth, leave this world at 34. Others, like my father, go at 64. The truth is, none of us know when our time will come. We often assume we’ll live long lives, grow old, and have plenty of time left, but life doesn’t promise that. What it does offer is this very moment — the one we’re in right now.

A hundred years from now, our names might fade, our stories might be forgotten, and the world will move on. So why waste the precious time we have being angry over small things or punish ourselves because of someone else’s ignorance and mistakes?

Money, appearances, ego, what others think of us — they all seem so important until we realize how fragile and fleeting life really is.

Maybe the real meaning of life is much simpler than we make it out to be. It could just be about living each day fully awake, open to whatever life brings, and grateful that we’re still here to feel it.

When we start to see life clearly, even the ordinary moments like a warm meal, a quiet walk, a heartfelt chat with a friend become enough. In those moments, we’re no longer searching for purpose. We’re living it.