Pleasure and Self-Denial

Robin tagged me as a “thinking blogger” and I promised to respond to her this week, but then she posted something that made me think, so I’m putting it off in order to respond to that post.

Robin, I have long known through her blog, is someone who is always seeking to improve herself — her lifestyle, her way of thinking, her knowledge. It’s extremely cool, and I admire that a great deal. She recently attended a conference where she talked to a sleep expert and has resolved upon getting more sleep. I am a sleep FAN, so three cheers for that! In her post on the subject, the comments section turned into a great big list of things people had given up in their life. Many posts took the form of: “I gave up this, and I gave up this and I gave up this too but I’m not giving up this and I don’t know how I’m going to manage when I give up this as well.”

Half-jokingly, I said: “I’m trying to understand the asceticism I’m seeing around here. Why is everyone so determined to give up things they enjoy? Everything in moderation and don’t worry about it.”

Today, she posted a more detailed response to her position, but I wanted to clarify. I never said she was weird, or even thought it. I just said I didn’t understand. And I wasn’t even necessarily talking about Robin. I asked Robin once why she gave up chocolate, and she told me. Her post was all about why she’s resolved to get more sleep. I can certainly understand self-denial in pursuit of a better existence.

But in the comments, there didn’t seem to be any logic behind the giving up of things. Or at least, not that I saw. If someone tells me they’ve given up cigarettes, I know intrinsically why, and don’t expect an explanation. But often, we weren’t talking about things that I had any idea were “bad for you.” It wasn’t, “Well, I know coffee is bad for my heart or chocolate is bad for my waistline” or even “I’m treating my life like a science experiment” — it was just: “I have a burning need to stop doing the things I’m doing, just for the sake of denial.” i.e., asceticism.

I don’t think the commenters would necessarily classify themselves as ascetics. For all I know, they have a great reason for their self-denial that they didn’t feel like sharing with the entire internet. Which I surely understand. Or maybe they are into the whole “purity through self-denial” thing.

Which is cool, y’know? To each his own. A friend of mine was raised in a Buddhist monastery and had that whole thing down pat for a while before he decided to chuck it. (and then, my lord, his *clothes*. Fabulous.)

It’s just not MY theory. What can I say? I’m Italian. Our monks make liqueurs.

The only thing I’ve ever “given up” was television (which was easy — I just moved to a new place and failed to get cable installed), and alcoholic shots, because I had a very bad experience with them and I realized that any happiness I derived from the activity was far outweighed by unhappiness. It’s been five years since I’ve taken any classical philosophy but I think that may fall somewhere near the epicurian camp.

I’m much more likely to look at something I enjoy which may be doing me ill and try to figure out how I can continue to enjoy it without the ill effects. Lactose intolerant? Take the pills then have a slice of lasagna. Like television shows but spend too much time watching crap? Thank goodness ABC and NBC puts their shows online. Thank goodness for Netflix.

I also experiment with my life — more subtly than Robin, but definitely working to make changes to improve my existence. I did a few years ago, made resolutions to read more books, or floss more often, or etc., and stuck with them. I also made resolutions that I didn’t always stick with. It happens.

I think of myself as a very passionate person, and always considered that such personalities come with a tendency towards extremes, but now I’m thinking that it’s a different kind of “extremes” than Robin talks about. I am very enthusiastic about my opinions, and have very strong emotions, but I don’t have an addictive personality. I don’t *need* a cup of tea, or to play a video game, or to eat an entire pizza, or to exercise X hours a day. (I wish I could get addicted to that last one.) I love meat and vegetables. When I drink alcohol, I have a glass or two of wine. When I eat junk food, I’ll have a bowl of popcorn, but no cake. You’re as likely to see me drinking milk with dinner as soda.

My one real addiction (and the one that Sailor Boy teases me about the most) is email. I’m completely addicted to email. Maybe I should be working on that? And yet, we come back to the “denial for denial’s sake” problem that I can’t wrap my brain around. I won’t feel the need to divorce myself from my email until it starts reducing my happiness quotient.

What do you think?

PS: I’m on the road all day today, so if I’m not around to participate, that’s why.