Nov 2009
understanding pleasure
What is the most truly satisfying experience a person can have?
Everyone will answer that question differently, of course, but most will think of their own sources of satisfaction when coming up with an answer. One person’s nectar is another one’s poison, as the saying goes. But when it comes to gratification, nearly all of us can be divided into two categories: The seekers of pleasure, and the seekers of understanding. In your circle of acquaintances, you will know of both types. The pleasure-seeker is typically bold, effective, and appreciates the finer things in life. The understanding-seeker may be more reflective, patient, well-liked, and be the kind of person you’d ring if your dog has just died.
Pleasure-seekers are not selfish people; in fact most pleasure-seekers are keen to share their sources of pleasure around. They enhance their pleasure by seeing other people enjoy what they enjoy. This is an important aspect of satisfaction, whatever the type: we tend to give to others what we most want for ourselves. This means that pleasure-seekers may give generously to charity, or to friends and family, but will do so in the hope (conscious or unconscious) that what they give will be returned to them in kind. The saying ‘you scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours’ is the kind of thing you’re likely to hear from a pleasure-seeker. Meanwhile, your kind and caring aunt, the one who seems to shower everyone around her with patience, goodwill and empathy, may be overcome with delight if her compassion is returned. She’s more likely to say “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
There are ideal role-models for each type of person: Three archetypal understanding-seekers are Gandhi, Jesus Christ, and (closer to home) Greens MP Bob Brown. We tend to see these people as giving more than they receive, and as putting compassion above other values. Such people may be loved by some for their humanity, but resented by others (particularly pleasure-seekers) for being unrealistic or having a holier-than-thou selflessness. Meanwhile three standout examples of pleasure-seekers are Richard Branson, The Cat in the Hat, and whoever the winner of the latest reality TV show is. These folks are loved for their ability to have fun and share the fun. We don’t expect them to heal the world, or to cure cancer, as long as they don’t try to take credit for things they didn’t do.
And this is the curious thing about pleasure vs. understanding as a way of finding fulfilment: we don’t seem to be able to combine the two. Can you think of any powerful yet understanding people? Barack Obama seemed to come to power on a wave of understanding, and many are now struggling to reconcile some of the decisions he has made with their idea of him as a person who understands the true problems his constituents face. Meanwhile, the quickest way a pleasure-seeker can fall from grace is to get themselves into a situation where they need understanding - Britney Spears, anyone?
We tend to see people as either compassionate or fun, and struggle to accept people who are both. We prefer to see the inventors of Google, or the head of Greenpeace, or our next door neighbour as either acting in self-interest, or thinking of others, but not both. We may be cynical about a movie star who travels to a third-world country, or a pillar of the community who is discovered to have particular sexual predilections. In my view, the only way to find happiness is to find room in your life for both yourself and others.
So, are you a pleasure-seeker or a seeker of understanding? The path you take to satisfaction is probably most strongly influenced by the sources of satisfaction you found in childhood: did you get lots of understanding as a kid, or did you have to find your own fun? As an adult, if you can’t get no satisfaction, try living how the other half live: Pleasure-seekers, trade in your fancy car and head down to the local soup kitchen. Compassionate people, why not hire a convertible sportscar for the weekend and drive to an expensive restaurant? You may discover avenues to satisfaction that you though were out of your league.
Everyone will answer that question differently, of course, but most will think of their own sources of satisfaction when coming up with an answer. One person’s nectar is another one’s poison, as the saying goes. But when it comes to gratification, nearly all of us can be divided into two categories: The seekers of pleasure, and the seekers of understanding. In your circle of acquaintances, you will know of both types. The pleasure-seeker is typically bold, effective, and appreciates the finer things in life. The understanding-seeker may be more reflective, patient, well-liked, and be the kind of person you’d ring if your dog has just died.
Pleasure-seekers are not selfish people; in fact most pleasure-seekers are keen to share their sources of pleasure around. They enhance their pleasure by seeing other people enjoy what they enjoy. This is an important aspect of satisfaction, whatever the type: we tend to give to others what we most want for ourselves. This means that pleasure-seekers may give generously to charity, or to friends and family, but will do so in the hope (conscious or unconscious) that what they give will be returned to them in kind. The saying ‘you scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours’ is the kind of thing you’re likely to hear from a pleasure-seeker. Meanwhile, your kind and caring aunt, the one who seems to shower everyone around her with patience, goodwill and empathy, may be overcome with delight if her compassion is returned. She’s more likely to say “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
There are ideal role-models for each type of person: Three archetypal understanding-seekers are Gandhi, Jesus Christ, and (closer to home) Greens MP Bob Brown. We tend to see these people as giving more than they receive, and as putting compassion above other values. Such people may be loved by some for their humanity, but resented by others (particularly pleasure-seekers) for being unrealistic or having a holier-than-thou selflessness. Meanwhile three standout examples of pleasure-seekers are Richard Branson, The Cat in the Hat, and whoever the winner of the latest reality TV show is. These folks are loved for their ability to have fun and share the fun. We don’t expect them to heal the world, or to cure cancer, as long as they don’t try to take credit for things they didn’t do.
And this is the curious thing about pleasure vs. understanding as a way of finding fulfilment: we don’t seem to be able to combine the two. Can you think of any powerful yet understanding people? Barack Obama seemed to come to power on a wave of understanding, and many are now struggling to reconcile some of the decisions he has made with their idea of him as a person who understands the true problems his constituents face. Meanwhile, the quickest way a pleasure-seeker can fall from grace is to get themselves into a situation where they need understanding - Britney Spears, anyone?
We tend to see people as either compassionate or fun, and struggle to accept people who are both. We prefer to see the inventors of Google, or the head of Greenpeace, or our next door neighbour as either acting in self-interest, or thinking of others, but not both. We may be cynical about a movie star who travels to a third-world country, or a pillar of the community who is discovered to have particular sexual predilections. In my view, the only way to find happiness is to find room in your life for both yourself and others.
So, are you a pleasure-seeker or a seeker of understanding? The path you take to satisfaction is probably most strongly influenced by the sources of satisfaction you found in childhood: did you get lots of understanding as a kid, or did you have to find your own fun? As an adult, if you can’t get no satisfaction, try living how the other half live: Pleasure-seekers, trade in your fancy car and head down to the local soup kitchen. Compassionate people, why not hire a convertible sportscar for the weekend and drive to an expensive restaurant? You may discover avenues to satisfaction that you though were out of your league.
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Undertow
Going to the beach was always something she’d enjoyed, albeit with a little apprehension. Something about the quiet roar of the waves, the occasional spectre of bluebottles, or perhaps the jokes people sometimes make about sharks.
As a child she’d sat and paddled in the wet sand, watched people bake in the sun, and, as she got older, enjoyed wandering up and down the waterline, her eyes combing the foam, flotsam and jetsam that last night’s storm had dislodged from somewhere out to sea.
As an adult, she would swim into the waves, feeling the push and surge against her chest; the shifting sands underfoot. Then one day she found herself being drawn strongly against the flow of the waves. She began to swim back to shore, and the effort tired her all to quickly. Before she knew it, the safe familiarity of the shoreline looked smaller and more distant than she had ever seen it.
She swam and swam, feeling growing shame and dread as she sensed a losing battle with the current. She didn’t want to be one of those foolish-looking people who let the surf get the better of them - she’d always been a confident swimmer. Even as she panted and pulled against the relentless rip, she chuckled at how ridiculous the situation had suddenly become. A surfer paddled over to her. “Are you ok? You need help?” “No,” she puffed irritably. “Maybe I should call the lifeguard,” he said. “I’m fine, I know how to swim,” she countered, and began to stroke harder against the tide.
A lifeguard on a board appeared beside her. “I don’t need help. I’m just caught in a rip I think. I can swim back, just when this lot of waves passes,” she spluttered as another broke over her. The beach was looking so distant now. A wave of sadness rose in her, as she felt the longing to be back on the firm sand.
“Help!” she yelled, and the lifeguard began to pull her onto the board. “Paddle with me back to the shore. When a wave comes, paddle harder,” he stated. Tired as she was, she began to paddle. After a minute or two, she was just so tired. She lay down and rested on the board. “Keep paddling, or I’ll have to leave you behind!” said the lifeguard. “I can’t,” she sobbed. She found herself back in the water, drifting further out to sea. She was crying freely now, certain that this current would not let go of her.
That’s when a voice she could not place began to speak softly to her. “Sometimes this happens. Let the current carry you. Swim with it if you can.” “I’m scared. I’m drowning,” she thought to herself. “You are safe if you don’t struggle.” murmured the weird voice. “Sure, and I’ll get carried out to sea forever,” she mused. “Not forever. for as long as it takes,” sounded the voice.
And so she gave up and let the current take her. Within what seemed like a few seconds, she found herself becalmed. The beach seemed a long way distant, and the rows of waves between her and the sand, but she could only hear a soft murmur of the surf. The current had brought her to deeper water, and she felt a strange peace. The disembodied voice spoke again: “where do you want to go now?”
“Home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Here.”
As a child she’d sat and paddled in the wet sand, watched people bake in the sun, and, as she got older, enjoyed wandering up and down the waterline, her eyes combing the foam, flotsam and jetsam that last night’s storm had dislodged from somewhere out to sea.
As an adult, she would swim into the waves, feeling the push and surge against her chest; the shifting sands underfoot. Then one day she found herself being drawn strongly against the flow of the waves. She began to swim back to shore, and the effort tired her all to quickly. Before she knew it, the safe familiarity of the shoreline looked smaller and more distant than she had ever seen it.
She swam and swam, feeling growing shame and dread as she sensed a losing battle with the current. She didn’t want to be one of those foolish-looking people who let the surf get the better of them - she’d always been a confident swimmer. Even as she panted and pulled against the relentless rip, she chuckled at how ridiculous the situation had suddenly become. A surfer paddled over to her. “Are you ok? You need help?” “No,” she puffed irritably. “Maybe I should call the lifeguard,” he said. “I’m fine, I know how to swim,” she countered, and began to stroke harder against the tide.
A lifeguard on a board appeared beside her. “I don’t need help. I’m just caught in a rip I think. I can swim back, just when this lot of waves passes,” she spluttered as another broke over her. The beach was looking so distant now. A wave of sadness rose in her, as she felt the longing to be back on the firm sand.
“Help!” she yelled, and the lifeguard began to pull her onto the board. “Paddle with me back to the shore. When a wave comes, paddle harder,” he stated. Tired as she was, she began to paddle. After a minute or two, she was just so tired. She lay down and rested on the board. “Keep paddling, or I’ll have to leave you behind!” said the lifeguard. “I can’t,” she sobbed. She found herself back in the water, drifting further out to sea. She was crying freely now, certain that this current would not let go of her.
That’s when a voice she could not place began to speak softly to her. “Sometimes this happens. Let the current carry you. Swim with it if you can.” “I’m scared. I’m drowning,” she thought to herself. “You are safe if you don’t struggle.” murmured the weird voice. “Sure, and I’ll get carried out to sea forever,” she mused. “Not forever. for as long as it takes,” sounded the voice.
And so she gave up and let the current take her. Within what seemed like a few seconds, she found herself becalmed. The beach seemed a long way distant, and the rows of waves between her and the sand, but she could only hear a soft murmur of the surf. The current had brought her to deeper water, and she felt a strange peace. The disembodied voice spoke again: “where do you want to go now?”
“Home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Here.”