‘But isn’t not wanting anything one of the symptoms of depression?’ Hearing these words of Julie Delpy in Before Sunset I was glad to find an excuse, even though I greatly admire Buddhist philosophy, to never take my orders.

The Buddha was just using common sense when he noted that desire is the root of all unhappiness. One could easily imagine that he was spending a lot of time with either a two-year old or a highly ambitious or obsessive melancholic at that stage. If you do not want anything, you cannot be disappointed or frustrated, and therefore we have a few less tantrums and sulking in the world. Maybe the search for moderation in all things can guide us through the minefield of desire and ambition.

But first I want to tell you about a book that a friend recommended and which I read last month while on holiday in Provence, my favourite part of the world. It’s called How to get rich by Felix Dennis. Horrible title, but don’t let it put you off. The book is a must-read for anyone who is serious about becoming a self-made billionaire, but the less ambitious may also enjoy his writing style (he’s also a published poet), his honesty and his sense of humour. His only regret, it seems, is that he did not stop working on getting richer and richer earlier in his life. To write more poetry.

When he reminds readers that all that can sustain them is ‘a fierce compulsion to succeed at any price’, he also warns them about the ‘sliver of razored ice’ in the heart of every self-made wealthy man or woman. ‘The love of another, or of family (or of their God, if they have one) can help to contain it. Seeking great wealth will release that sliver to grow. It is in the nature of the beast,’ he tells from experience.

And even if a heart of ice does not make us unhappy, it will certainly shield us from any true happiness. The Buddha knew. One of the reasons I take some time out in Provence every year – if possible – is thaw mine a little. At the end of a year of ambitious discipline and being totally task-driven, I call for a month away without an itinerary and very few goals. Just to learn some French and read a few books. These alone cannot fill my waking hours, of course, so I start to notice how interesting strangers are. Or catch up with old friends. Or just look at the way the light changes during the day and appreciate why artists are never bored.

I wonder how much I miss out on back home with my goal-orientated blinkers on, but I probably won’t change my ways. Drive and ambition are signs of life. It directs us and motivates us to act (which is almost always more memorable than not acting). It gives us a sense of purpose and as a by-product generally creates material growth in a society. It quickens the heart – which also melts the sliver of ice.

I guess, to live life well – with meaning and with warmth – is an art and needs a balanced composition. Nobody else can guide us to find the right balance: rules have exceptions, a guru may be on a different journey from ours and books are condensed and stylised. To create good art we need passion, sensitivity, both an inner world and the time to really look at the world around us. We also need material resources (even Van Gogh did).

So, wake up in the morning and want a great cup of coffee, wish for a productive day, desire that person with whom you feel a connection, strive for overwhelming material abundance. Whatever keeps your heart warm.

PS: I had the privilege to see Leonard Cohen perform in Lyon on 9 July – a life-long dream finally came true. Even though I thought I knew the lyrics of each and every one of his songs, it felt like I really heard some of them for the first time. Like the words of In My Secret Life – ‘… And we’re still making love in my secret life … I smile when I’m angry, I cheat and I lie, I do what I have to do to get by. But I know what it is wrong and I know what it is right. And I die for the truth … But I’m always alone and my heart is like ice. And it’s crowded and cold in my secret life.’ I suspect Mr Cohen, after all those years in his Californian monastery, is much more enlightened than me when it comes to letting go of ambition. But lovers are another story altogether…