hedonism & the will to live
what is discipline without hedonism
tw: mention of concepts of suicide and death
I remember the first time I encountered the concept of suicide. Maybe it was mentioned in a book or a film, either way my mum tried to explain it to me: sometimes life feels so bad that people don’t want to live.
I was, at 7 years old, astonished by this. Not yet wearied by the world, I thought about it every night, and in doing so began to develop my (somewhat) hedonistic life philosophy.
Why would you kill yourself? I thought. If I felt that bad, as my mum defines it, I would eat yummy food all day every day until I felt better. I would listen to my favourite song on repeat. I would travel somewhere beautiful. I would take myself to the brink of insanity, first. If I truly hated my life, had decided it wasn’t worth it, I would give one final crack at my will to live. What is there to lose if I am considering ceasing all together?
Obviously, this is a very childish and uninformed take on the reality of suicide and depression. When we feel this low, pleasure becomes inaccessible, as I have experienced. However, I think it changed me irreversibly. If death is what happens when life becomes unbearable, surely nothing is more important than a will to live. If hedonism is required to keep yourself going, is it really so bad?
Instant gratification is really bad though, right?
Yes, to an extent, the pursuit of pleasure can be self-destructive. To constantly prioritise your immediate whims and urges over slowly and carefully crafting a life for yourself is not healthy. However, to love your future self infinitely more than your present self makes no sense to me. The capitalistic idea of saving your money for your future self and “investing” in your future as if you are nothing more than potential feels like a recipe for disaster.
To me, the point of life is to, through your own lessons and means, experience joy and peace. These feelings can only be experienced in the present moment. Self respect is about promising joy and peace to your future self, sure, but not in the absence of any of it in the present. I am not saying that discipline isn’t important, it is. I am saying that finding joy in the present solidifies the desire to perpetuate it. How are you supposed to invest in a good life for yourself if you don’t even know what a good life feels like?
It baffles me, truly, when people question my dedication to experiencing peace now, rather than later. I want to experience peace now and later. I am learning what feels good to me so that I can, with that knowledge, also be disciplined in granting it to my future self.
Why would I figure out my career before figuring out my will to live?
I took a gap year both before and after university to travel the world. I spent a year travelling and watching my small life savings vanish before my eyes. There is an immense privilege in doing this, don’t get me wrong. However, the people who question me the most tend to be those with far more privilege and money than me.
“Why would you not use the money for a house?” — I don’t even know if I want one. I am only now, at 25, creating a clear image of what a peaceful and joyful looks like for me. The pursuit of pleasure is not a vain pursuit. I am making my will to live an ever-narrowing focal point. Attuning myself to it’s frequency. The way the needle on a compass aligns itself with the Earth’s magnetic field, I am calibrating mine to align with my will to live.
People see the will to live as universal and do not calibrate their compass. It makes sense. The blueprint we are given is clear and concise, it is much easier to run with it than to set it down and clumsily make your own. But if the default blueprint is making you miserable, why would you not run amok?
What comes first, discipline or hedonism?
Disciplined people impress me. Marathon runners, routined gym-goers. I have always cared more for ritual than routine. Having a ritual for when I am tired, and another for when I am energised. I recognise the importance of routine and discipline, but the magnetic pull of my compass always seems to outweigh it. I don’t think there is a one size fits all dosage when it comes to discipline, but I do believe that you can overdose.
If all of your actions are made with the vigilance of protecting your future self, are you not at risk of abandoning your present self? I am not at all saying that we should guzzle cookies all day or forgo hard things, but how are you supposed to protect a life where pleasure is all potential and no practice?
For me, hedonism comes first. Hedonism is the fuel to the fire of my discipline. I exercise because I hold onto corporeal memories of the pleasure it is to dance in a healthy body. To kiss someone in a state of aliveness. To be drunk and not be wearied the next day.
Discipline and hedonism are indivisible. Without the glut of spontaneous pleasure I have allowed myself, I would not be able to maintain any discipline. I know the value of money because I have felt it. In choosing experience over money, I now have the motivation to be disciplined with money. In choosing now over then, I have the vision for what I want my “then” to be.
In Greek mythology, Hedone is the goddess of pleasure and enjoyment. Her parents are Eros (god of love) and Pysche (goddess of the soul). To be a “hedonist”, philosophically speaking, is to view pleasure as the ultimate good, the goodness that drives us. Hedonism as a philosophical position is highly critiqued, and rightfully so. If pleasure is the highest good, pain is the highest bad, but pain is required to experience many good things, thus discipline begins to take precedance. Pleasure can also harm us, perpetuating pain in equal measure.
I am not saying that discipline should not take precedance, but that hedonism is it’s precursor. Discipline, often through endurance of pain, sustains access to pleasure and goodness. All that I argue, is that the pursuit of pleasure illuminates that which is pleasurable, that which we dream for our future selves. Sure, many people lose themselves to hedonistic vices, I am not saying that pleasure and pain are not cut from the same cloth. However, many people lose the taste of pleasure in their attempts to secure it for their future self.
A hamster running in a wheel, cheese dangling above it, not sure if it even wants the cheese.
When I find myself in this predicament, I do not run faster. I eat cheese. It may slow me down, but it sustains me. It ignites me. I’m sure that if I were disciplined enough, maybe there would be more cheese for me in the end, but I am not risking my will to live in the name of finding out.
P.S. I understand that there is a lot of privilege in this sentiment and that not everyone can stop and smell the roses as often as others. However, it is often the people who can reach the cheese that are the most scared of slowing down to taste it.