Spirituality is the greed of the introverts, and the comfort of those who are unable to find their level of happiness in life reasonable. Life is neither a bed of roses, but nor is it a vale of tears. The spiritualist, being inadequately rooted and being ill-adjusted, idealizes extreme states.
Materialism is not the problem, consumerism is. Out of that emptiness that aches, man seeks fulfillment. Consumerism, Spirituality, Sensation, Distraction, all are inadequate responses to that emptiness.
The Emptiness of man is not the consequence only of his separation, but primarily of the awareness of his separation. This awareness of "me" as an individual is what makes us human, but this awareness also induces an ineffable seeking to be united again. To be human is to bear the burden of our humanness: to be conscious and aware.
One can feel united in moments of bliss. But by its very nature, that bliss is something sub-human, an overwhelming feeling which subdues the aching awareness of being an individual, an infantile joy not unlike imagining oneself in the womb again. When man romanticizes a bird, he curses his own capacity for awareness.
Awareness is a double-edged sword without a hilt. Holding it, you will slay many a thing. But you will bleed too. You will not be able to avoid cutting yourself, and seeing your own blood and entrails.
What man seeks is a state of unawareness. Life, with its joys and sorrows, is time, and in a state of childlike unawareness, time can be forgotten. But as humans, the awareness of time is our greatest tool. Is it any wonder that the truly enlightened, who live timelessly, require life-support?
Life is a problem when you are discontent. Then you seek fulfillment. But it may pay highly to pinpoint the stage in your life when discontent started boiling in you. I am not asking you to be frugal in happiness. But you may find that at some stage, you could not bear the stress and pain of life.
Gotama is said to have started his search when, after living a sheltered life in a palace, he suddenly saw disease, old age and death. His horror at impermanence scarred him deeply, and his seeking from then on was to find something beyond all this impermanence. But no one has asked whether his horror and scars were reasonable. Why was he horrified? Why could he not accept death?
To die is to be no more. And the spiritual man, being introverted, recoils more than ever at this thought. The spiritual man, being introverted, has a heightened sense of self. His ego, unable to find glory in the world of man, seeks inward glory. And he exalts himself that he is seeking something higher and more noble than the mundane man.