Apr 23, 2024
The concept of pleasure and the lie behind it is one of those things that, once you see, it is impossible to unsee. It feels so obvious, yet our minds cannot comprehend it unless we take instruction from a noble teacher. Have you ever taken a close look at the mental mechanisms of pleasure? Today, we look at precisely that.
Many of us have felt the anticipation of waiting for someone special, standing at a designated place. When there’s someone very special we are waiting to meet, no one else who appears during that time can provide the same level of satisfaction or joy. The sight (or voice) of the person you're expecting is what you cherish the most because you've been waiting for them specifically. Even your beloved parents, whose company on any other occasion is pure delight, cannot replace this unique feeling. At a moment like this, substitutes do not tend to work. Our contentment seems to be intricately tied to a particular individual. Whether it is a close friend or your other half, meeting your expectations brings pleasure. However, on the other hand, meeting someone you do not like can trigger aversion. Yet still, meeting a stranger whom you might otherwise ignore may not evoke any significant emotions. Even if it was the same person – first met as a stranger, then an acquaintance, later a friend, later still a very close friend, and perhaps one day having fallen out – an enemy, the emotional response of pleasure upon sight of a person is entirely dependent on one’s expectations of the said person.
This underscores that your pleasure is entirely dependent on your expectations. One thing becomes clear: this pleasure cannot be solely attributed to the person's identity, as, if it were the case, meeting them at any moment, under any circumstances, should consistently bring us joy.
Pleasure, we find, is not an external force but an internal process of the mind. To understand how pleasure is attained, we must delve into the workings of our own minds. The anxious waiting before seeing the expected person is not a positive, pleasurable feeling. Instead, it can be described as an instance of vexation—an undesirable state of mental pressure.
As we eagerly await the presence of the anticipated person, we experience vexation, a negative feeling that seems unrelated to pleasure. However, when we finally meet the person, pleasure ensues, indicating a connection between the release of vexation and the experience of pleasure. Pleasure comes from the relief of the pain of the pressure felt until such time. As we keep waiting, we can experience first-hand expectations and pressure building up, the relief of which brings us pleasure. In virtually all situations in life, we can identify that pleasure is always more intense when the expectation is higher. In other words, the greater the want, the more intense the pleasure we perceive.
So, to simplify the pleasure process, one of the very first pieces of the process we must understand is “wanting”. This happens when we want something or someone. We will explore the origins of wanting later. In the real world, just because you want something doesn’t mean you get it instantly, if at all; therefore, pressure starts to build. There is normally a bearable amount of pressure, but when it becomes unbearable, the mind begins to look for relief. In this day and age, most things that bring us pleasure are rooted in money or have a monetary value, so we have to work to produce some economic value to get money in exchange for it and then exchange that money with whatever we want. At every moment, the promise of pleasure is the motivation, and the internal pressure to experience it increases. Finally, when you get what you want, at the moment your mind perceives it, the pressure is relieved, and then pleasure is felt. Unfortunately, this is the true nature of the pleasure we feel at any time.
This is definitely an eye-opener for us all and a portal to understand the absolute truth about pleasure. If we consider the two words or two feelings, ‘wanting’ and ‘pleasure,’ they feel like a pair of innocent and benign emotions, but really they are not. When you want something, you don’t have pleasure, instead torturous amounts of pressure. When you get what you want, and you are no longer left yearning for it, you are relieved of the pressure, and then you have pleasure. What does this mean? This is a state which is the opposite of mental pressure. Basically, you have shifted from a state of not having what you want, to having what you want, but wanting itself remains. Wanting itself is vexatious, and therefore, the latent vexation remains in the mind.
In our quest for pleasure, it becomes evident that the joy we experience is not an inherent quality of the person or situation but rather a relief from vexation. One common pitfall is the misjudgement which occurs in the mind due to the simultaneous occurrence of reduction in vexation and the acquisition of the object of desire. The result is that the mind erroneously interprets this relief as pleasure and then attributes it to the object. As the mind is ignorant of what is really going on here, this becomes another iteration of the vicious pleasure-vexation cycle.
Consider this simple experiment: while you are reading the newspaper, let's engage in a brief activity. Hold up the index finger of one hand, and with the other hand, bend it backwards. Once you reach a point of discomfort, try going a little further back and then as far back as you can. It will begin to hurt after a short while and please hold the finger there for about a minute despite the pain. When your time is up, let go and release your finger to its original position. What do you experience in the moment you let go? You are bound to experience pleasure, or at least what you might describe as relief from pain. So this pleasure, was it there before you bent your finger? So, where did it come from then? How much longer will you continue to experience the pleasure? The ensuing pleasure is not an intrinsic quality; it arises only as a result of relief from the preceding pain. To replicate this pleasure, one must repeat the activity. Thus, pleasure is intricately tied to the reduction of pain.
Imagine holding ten thick books for ten minutes; the weight is burdensome. When five books are unloaded, a sense of pleasure ensues. However, this pleasure is merely the alleviation of the weight of those five books. Our minds, however, interpret it as an independent pleasure, oblivious to the fact that the weight of the remaining books still burdens us.
This sensation of pleasure is inseparable from the reduction of pain. It is vital to recognize that pleasure is merely a label assigned to the alleviation of pain. Unfortunately, this alleviation occurs precisely at the moment we accomplish a task or experience stimuli through our senses. Our minds, in their deception, attribute this pleasure to external entities, be it material possessions or individuals.
Projecting pleasure onto external factors is a manifestation of our ignorance. The erroneous belief that pleasure originates from external sources leads us to incessantly seek gratification from them, perpetuating a cycle of attachment.
Consider a scenario where you meet a friend after experiencing vexation as you wait for this meeting. However, let us assume that upon meeting, the vexation is not relieved as you were expecting them to being you a gift which they have not. If the vexation is not relieved, you may not experience pleasure; instead, disappointment and negative emotions arise, creating aversion in the mind. Aversion is identified as an increase in vexation, highlighting the fact that aversion is also not inherent in external factors or situations, but is an augmentation of pre-existing mental pressure.
The Delusion of Adopted Vexation
Meeting a stranger might not evoke significant changes in emotion, but this doesn’t negate the presence of waiting in our minds. Unacknowledged waiting persists, and this temporary forgetting of expectations contributes to what we term delusion. At first glance, it may seem that meeting a stranger elicits a neutral response, devoid of any pleasure or displeasure. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that the mere act of seeing itself brings a subtle undercurrent of pleasure. How does this phenomenon unfold? It is rooted in our inherent desire to perceive and understand the world around us.
This revelation becomes particularly apparent when we consider the moments when our vision blurs or becomes vague. In these instances, a sense of aversion arises, stemming from our innate wish to see clearly. This aversive feeling can be experienced due to the increment of the vexation that we already have regarding seeing.
But why is it that we don’t experience overwhelming pleasure every time we lay eyes on something? The answer lies in the frequency of our visual experiences. We constantly see things, and as a result, the release of vexation occurs frequently and incessantly. The pressure doesn’t accumulate significantly, and the reduction in vexation is subtle. Over time, we adapt to this continuous seeing, and the pleasure becomes inconspicuous. We may perceive ourselves as neutral in these instances, but in reality, our minds are consistently liberated from vexation, whether we gaze upon a stranger or any other sight.
In essence, the deep delusion lies in our tendency to overlook the continuous liberation from vexation that occurs with each act of seeing. The subtle pleasure derived from visual experiences becomes imperceptible due to its regularity, and we erroneously conclude that we are emotionally indifferent.
We don’t realise that the expectation of happiness itself is vexatious. The catch is if you expect something to bring you happiness, from the moment you are vexed, you have lost the happiness of the moment.
This might seem pretty obvious now, but we don't realise this because of the illusion of pleasure. The pleasure covers up the pressure; therefore, we turn a blind eye to the pressure and continue to look for pleasure.
Pleasure is transient and lasts for a short period of time, alternating with pressure as we have discussed already. However, we fail to see that in every moment of pleasure or pressure, there is also fear or sorrow. When you want something, you work for it. When you acquire what you seek, you are happy for a few moments, and at that moment, you are in fear of losing it, so you take action to protect it. You always feel a loss if you don’t get what you want. You feel a loss when you don’t have what you want, but when you have it, you fear losing it. Pleasure is only a flying visitor in between.
We often find ourselves motivated by the pursuit of meeting expectations, which keeps us on our toes. Achieving our expectations brings us happiness; for instance, when we buy a car, the initial joy stems from fulfilling our expectations. However, what follows is the fear of losing the car, coupled with the responsibility of maintaining it and meeting the financial obligations of the commitments we took on to purchase the car. While the pleasure of showing off the car in front of others may be present, it’s not easy to overlook the burdens that come with ownership.
When we eagerly await the arrival of a special visitor at the airport lounge particularly after a prolonged period of separation, the build-up of vexation during the wait is almost palpable. However, the moment we lay eyes on our loved one—whether it be a son, daughter, husband, or wife—the joy is unparalleled. It's as if a pressure valve has been released, and we are over the moon with pleasure.
In those initial days, we go above and beyond to ensure their happiness. Meals are crafted to match their preferences, and we willingly sacrifice our own comforts to provide them with the best experience. This heightened level of care persists for about a week, during which our efforts to please them know no bounds. Yet, gradually, the intensity wanes, and we revert to our normal lifestyle. Eventually, we might even nonchalantly ask them to make their own tea.
Why does this shift occur? If the person is the same on the day of the airport reunion as they are afterward, logic would dictate that our satisfaction in caring for them should remain constant. However, the key lies in the discrepancy between the minimal vexation accumulated during the routine and the substantial heap of vexation experienced during the anticipation at the airport.
It becomes evident that the special pleasure we associate with caring for our loved one is not solely derived from the person themselves. Instead, it's intrinsically linked to the substantial reduction in vexation that occurs when we finally reunite with them. In essence, the pleasure is a product of alleviating the accumulated stress rather than an inherent quality of the person we are caring for.
Understanding this phenomenon sheds light on the transient nature of the heightened care we provide during the initial reunion period, highlighting the role of vexation reduction in our perception of special pleasure.
We now recognize that the root of our challenges lies in desire. So, the question arises: can we distance ourselves from wanting? While it's true that we need water, our cravings often steer us toward milkshakes. Yet, quenching thirst with a glass of water fulfils our essential need. Pursuing a milkshake, on the other hand, leads to either pleasure or disappointment, depending on its availability, quality, and expected flavour.
When we seek pleasure, what we often find, inevitably, is sorrow. Do we need to reject milkshakes when we're thirsty? Absolutely not. If it's readily available, offered, or easily obtainable, that’s fine—provided we hadn’t set expectations. Drinking it then doesn’t yield profound satisfaction or unbearable sadness because there is no initial pressure or vexation in our minds. Without those, there is no change in pressure, be it a decrease or increase.
Practising setting goals without expecting them to unfold precisely as planned is challenging. While planning and setting goals constitute a positive and effective approach to a smart lifestyle, the expectation of achieving those goals places us on the precipice of pleasure and sorrow. The gap between anticipated and actual results, considering all contributing factors, breeds anxiety. How would you feel if I were to suggest raising children with guidance and facilities but not expecting them to achieve your goals, cooking high-quality meals for special guests without expecting appreciation, even studying hard for an exam, confident of excellent marks, but without the expectation of its result? Even the suggestion that one can engage in these endeavours without expectations might seem whimsical. However, consider this - expectation and desire don't contribute to your goal. What supports your goal is clearly understanding it, setting SMART goals and, mainly, your relentless performance towards its achievement. Expectations only bring about fear of underperformance or the sorrow of loss.
The suffering you endure is a choice. Performing without expectation minimizes suffering and prevents undue elation over outcomes, regardless of goal achievement. In Buddhism, positive thinking revolves around understanding that expectations don't dictate outcomes. Instead, recognizing that actions, performance, and surrounding causes bring results independent of personal wishes is key.
The next time you experience pleasure or sadness, focus on acknowledging the role of expectation. Contemplating this realization is a significant achievement in our brief lifetime, too short to chase ephemeral material pleasures. The scientific basis of Buddhist philosophy teaches us to align with nature and contemplate this reality to achieve true freedom.