Everything is Vanity

The sun beats down on the red earth. A woman balances a basin of tomatoes on her head, her steps a steady rhythm against the dusty road. A man in a bustling market argues passionately over the price of mobile phone cases. Students hunched over books, their faces lit by the dim glow of a single bulb, dreaming of a future that shimmers like a mirage. We are all running. Chasing. Striving. For the car, the house, the title, the respect, the something that we’re told will finally make us… content.

But then, a quiet voice, sometimes from a grandparent on a porch, sometimes from a preacher on a Sunday, sometimes from deep within our own tired hearts, whispers an ancient, unsettling phrase: "Everything is vanity." It stops you cold, doesn’t it? All this sweating, all this struggling, all this worry, for what? If it’s all just a puff of air, a chasing after the wind, then… why bother?

You might hear that and feel a wave of resignation. What’s the point of saving if it can be wiped away? Why work so hard for a promotion that just brings more stress? Why build anything at all? It’s a tempting trap to fall into, a justification for throwing your hands up and just going with the flow. But what if we’ve been misreading the message entirely? What if "everything is vanity" isn’t a death sentence for ambition, but a liberation from the wrong kind of striving?

It's Perspective

The phrase comes from the Old Testament, from the book of Ecclesiastes. The writer, often called "the Teacher," looks at the world with a brutally honest eye. He sees that the sun rises and sets on both the good and the evil. He observes that wise people and fools both meet the same end. He notes that you can work your fingers to the bone amassing wealth, only to leave it all behind for someone who might squander it. From this bird’s-eye view, he labels it all hevel, the Hebrew word we translate as "vanity." But hevel means more than just pride or pointlessness. It means vapour, mist, a breath. Something fleeting, temporary, and impossible to grasp hold of.

This isn’t a nihilistic rant. It’s an observation of reality. The Teacher is forcing us to confront the temporary nature of material things and ego-driven pursuits. He’s not saying "do nothing." He’s asking a much more powerful question: "Since you can’t take any of this with you, what will you pour your precious energy into?"

Think about it. How many family arguments have started over land or an inheritance? How much envy is stirred up by a neighbour’s new car? How much of our peace is stolen by worrying about appearances and status? We kill ourselves for things that are here today and gone tomorrow. That’s the vanity. That’s the chasing after the wind.

The Trap of "When I Get There…"

We all live on a hamster wheel of conditional happiness. We tell ourselves:

• "When I get that job, then I’ll be satisfied."

• "When I build that house, then I’ll have truly made it."

• "When my business hits a certain turnover, then I can relax."

But guess what? The goalpost always moves. You get the job, and now you want the corner office. You build the house, and now you need a bigger fence. The business hits its target, and now you’re anxious about maintaining it. This cycle is the very essence of vanity. It’s a mist that never condenses into the rain of genuine contentment.

A cousin of mine worked himself to the bone for over a decade. He was never present at family gatherings because he was always "closing a deal." He drove a nice car and his children went to an expensive school, but he was constantly stressed, his health suffering. He achieved everything he thought he wanted, only to realize the price he paid was the very life he was trying to build. The car, the money, the status, it was all hevel. The missed birthdays, the strained relationships, the poor health, that was the real, tangible cost.

So, Why Bother? 

Once you accept that external achievements and possessions are temporary, you are freed to focus on what isn’t.

If "everything is vanity" is the diagnosis, then the prescription is to invest in things that have lasting meaning. The "why bother" transforms. You’re not bothering for the temporary trophy; you’re building for enduring impact. Your energy shifts from chasing the wind to building a shelter that can withstand it.

What does that shelter look like? It’s built with bricks of:

• Build Legacy, Not Just Wealth: Anyone can make money. Building a legacy is different. It’s about the values you instil in your children. It’s about the knowledge you pass on. It’s about the community you strengthen. A successful farmer isn’t just remembered for his harvest; he’s remembered for teaching his community new techniques, for helping others during a lean season, for being a man of his word. That legacy outlives him by generations.

• Experiences, Not Just Assets: A fancy watch can be stolen. A memory cannot. The money spent on a family trip to the village, celebrating a milestone with loved ones, or learning a new skill together, these create a wealth of joy that compounds over time. You might forget how much you paid for a phone, but you’ll never forget the sound of your grandmother’s laughter during that reunion.

• Peace of Mind, Not Just Possessions: In a world of constant noise and pressure, inner peace is the ultimate currency. Investing in your health, mental and physical, is the opposite of vanity. It’s profoundly practical. A daily walk, setting boundaries at work, learning to say no to things that drain you, these are investments that pay dividends every single day in reduced stress and increased happiness.

• Generosity, Not Just Accumulation: The Teacher in Ecclesiastes ultimately concludes that finding enjoyment in our toil and sharing what we have with others is a gift from God. There’s a profound psychological truth here. Studies, like one from Harvard Business School, have shown that spending money on others actually increases our own happiness more than spending it on ourselves. Hoarding is vain; it creates anxiety. Giving is meaningful; it creates connection and joy.

The Practical Antidote

This isn’t just philosophy. It’s a practical way to live. It’s about auditing your life and asking one simple question about how you spend your time, energy, and money: "Is this building something permanent, or am I just chasing the wind?"

It means:

• Prioritising saving for your child’s education over buying the latest luxury item.

• Choosing to invest in a small business that solves a real problem in your community rather than chasing a get-rich-quick scheme.

• Valuing an hour of quality time with your family as highly as an hour of overtime pay.

• Measuring your success not by your job title, but by the respect you earn from your peers and the love you receive at home.

This is where the journey truly begins. It’s about moving from a life that looks successful on the outside to one that feels successful on the inside.

You May Ask

Isn't this just an excuse to be lazy and not pursue money?

Not at all. It’s a call to be smarter and more * intentional* about your pursuit. Money is a tool, not a destination. This perspective encourages you to work hard, but for a purpose beyond the money itself, for security, for opportunity, for the ability to help others. It’s the difference between being a slave to money and being its master.

How do I start making this shift in my daily life?

Start small. The next time you’re about to make a significant purchase or commit to a new obligation, pause. Ask yourself: "Will this truly add value to my life, or is it just for show? Will this contribute to my long-term peace and legacy, or will it just be another temporary thrill?" Begin to consciously redirect resources, whether it’s time, money, or attention, toward things that align with lasting value.

Is it wrong to enjoy nice things and want a comfortable life?

The message isn’t that you should live in poverty or deny yourself joy. The Teacher in Ecclesiastes actually encourages us to enjoy our food, our drink, and our work, it’s a gift. The problem arises when we see these things as the source of our happiness and worth. Enjoy the comfortable life, but don’t pin your entire sense of self to it. Hold it loosely, like vapour, and appreciate it while it’s there.

The Wind You Can Catch

So, is everything vanity? Yes, but not in the way we first think. The temporary, material, ego-driven pursuits are a mist. They are vapour. But that realisation is the key to freedom. It forces us to stop bothering with the things that don’t matter and start investing our precious days in the things that do.

The reason you bother is not for the vanity, but for what lies beyond it. You bother for the love that remains long after you’re gone. You bother for the wisdom you impart that changes a life. You bother for the peace you cultivate that becomes your family’s inheritance. You bother for the legacy you build that is etched not in stone, but in the hearts of people you touched.

That isn’t vapour. That is substance. That is meaning. And that is a wind worth catching.