I thought I would articulate in a post some of the techniques and habits I use to embrace the important Stoic concept of "voluntary discomfort."
If you recall from our other discussions of various aspects of Stoicism: voluntary discomfort is a tool of enjoyment, as counterintuitive as that may sound. The idea is simple: if you (temporarily) give up a pleasure, or (temporarily) deny yourself a comfortable experience, you'll appreciate and enjoy that experience far more--and far more profoundly--when you resume it.
Short-circuiting hedonic adaptation
We humans adapt quickly to pleasures and comforts. Honestly, it's rather disturbing to see how things that once gave us immense pleasure rapidly become expected, required, even "needed." Worse, our minds quickly redraw a pleasure baseline from any new pleasure or comfort, which means in order to experience the same level of pleasure or comfort in the future, we constantly need more. We can see easily how this drives various insane societal behaviors such as consumerism, the constant pursuit of the new, status-signaling and Veblen-esque conspicuous consumption.
If you think about it, the Stoic practice of voluntary discomfort is essentially a lifehack for short circuiting hedonic adaptation. A two-thousand year old hack!
So, here are a few examples of how I "do" voluntary discomfort, ranging from the seemingly silly to the significant. I'd be grateful if readers would share their ideas in the comments… I'm always on the lookout for new ways to apply this incredibly useful Stoic tool.
Going without my usual near-daily glass of wine for a few days in a row:
Once again, we very quickly adapt, hedonically speaking, to any situation. I've discovered that when I consume alcohol daily, I deaden the very pleasure I chase.
Intermittent fasting/delaying a meal:
I wrote briefly about this concept in my post Waiting Until We Are Hungry Before We Eat. Few things heighten the satisfaction of a meal like genuine hunger.
Taking a cold shower:
Nothing--and I mean nothing--better enhances your appreciation of a nice hot shower the next day. When I wake up and realize "Hey! I don't have to take a cold shower today!!" it's the start of a very good day.
30-day trials of giving up something pleasurable or comfort-inducing:
I've given up chocolate, alcohol, sugar and junk food on various 30-day trials over the years. These are both tests of will (that I derive pleasure from, interestingly) and they deepen my appreciation of the thing I give up.
Turning off the air conditioning on a hot day/Leaving the heat off on a cold day:
On a really hot day, have you ever left the AC off until you can hardly stand it, and then turned it on late in the day? This is a silly--yet not silly--example, but it just shows how a comfort briefly withheld becomes a comfort we stop taking for granted.
Days/weeks of spending very little money:
Here at Casual Kitchen, we generally make a point of reducing our spending during the summers. We cook simple, low-cost food at home, we avoid meals out, and we try to do less.
Other possible examples:
Eating the same meal several days in a row
Wearing uncomfortable clothing
Walking instead of driving
Waking up early/not sleeping in
Going a period of time without social media
Readers, I'm always looking for new ideas to exercise voluntary discomfort--what ideas can you share?
READ NEXT: Two People, Fifteen Days, Thirty Meals. Thirty-Five Bucks!
Showing posts with label Stoicism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stoicism. Show all posts
Occasional Self-Denial
Skip my daily frappugirlieccino? But it's one of my most important daily pleasures!
Is it? Is it really? The ancient Stoics would likely disagree with you. They'd say that you will appreciate something even more--possibly far more--if you choose to give it up on occasion.
After all, how pleasurable can something truly be if it happens all the time? It's inevitable that you'll grow to take it for granted. And something taken for granted is not an "important daily pleasure."
It's not a pleasure at all. It's a habit.
While we almost never buy frappugirlieccinos here at CK (not that there's anything the least bit wrong with them of course), we are known to indulge in fancy coffee. We'll enjoy a pot of Kona coffee on occasion to make a given morning all the more special. And on many a morning I will make an eighty second latte for Laura, a frothy and altogether unmasculine concoction to help her build up the courage to get out of bed.
But we make sure not to drink the best coffee every day. On most days we drink a basic, grocery store-caliber commodity coffee.
Substituting generic coffee or skipping a daily frappugirlieccino might seem like minor, even trivial, things to do. But they are metaphors. These small acts of self-denial are important, because they help us grasp how many of the great pleasures of modern life we take entirely for granted.
Further, it's one thing to take something for granted. It's another thing entirely to not even realize you've been taking things for granted in the first place. For us, the practice of occasional self-denial isn't just a step toward being more grateful. It's also a step toward being more mindful and meta-aware.
And it goes without saying that a more grateful and mindful life is, by definition, a more enjoyable and better-lived life.
Finally, we can go a step further. Stoic self-denial offers us one more advantage, a big one for Casual Kitchen readers: it saves you money.
Huh? A practice that saves a few bucks while increasing your gratitude and enjoyment of life? When they say Stoicism is a truly practical philosophy, they weren't kidding.
So, where else might we exercise occasional self-denial in daily life, in an effort to maximize enjoyment, minimize taking things for granted--and even save a little money while we're at it? A few ideas to get started:
Alcohol:
Examples might be periodic self-denial of a post-work alcoholic beverage. Or, giving up alcohol for a weekend, or a week, or even for a 30 day trial. Who wouldn't want to get more pleasure out of truly glorious beverages like beer? And wine?
Chocolate:
Long ago, I did a 30 day trial here at Casual Kitchen of giving up chocolate. It turned out that one of the more pleasurable experiences in my life was opening up and eating a single square of Dove dark chocolate at the very moment those 30 days were up.
Television/media/video games:
Uhhh, speaking solely for myself, a Facebook game called Candy Crush comes to mind, a game that has become a daily "habit" with me, offering no pleasure at all. Giving it up, even occasionally, would provide obvious benefits.
Swearing:
I've been ruminating about a Friday Links article I linked to recently about swearing, and I'm wondering if I might be able to dramatically increase the pleasure I derive from swearing by going a full day once in a while without swearing.
Readers, what about you? Where in your life would you consider an act of Stoic self-denial?
This post owes a debt of gratitude to William Irvine and his extraordinary book on Stoicism, A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy.
On the concept of self-denial, see chapter 7.
How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com
via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
Is it? Is it really? The ancient Stoics would likely disagree with you. They'd say that you will appreciate something even more--possibly far more--if you choose to give it up on occasion.
After all, how pleasurable can something truly be if it happens all the time? It's inevitable that you'll grow to take it for granted. And something taken for granted is not an "important daily pleasure."
It's not a pleasure at all. It's a habit.
While we almost never buy frappugirlieccinos here at CK (not that there's anything the least bit wrong with them of course), we are known to indulge in fancy coffee. We'll enjoy a pot of Kona coffee on occasion to make a given morning all the more special. And on many a morning I will make an eighty second latte for Laura, a frothy and altogether unmasculine concoction to help her build up the courage to get out of bed.
But we make sure not to drink the best coffee every day. On most days we drink a basic, grocery store-caliber commodity coffee.
Substituting generic coffee or skipping a daily frappugirlieccino might seem like minor, even trivial, things to do. But they are metaphors. These small acts of self-denial are important, because they help us grasp how many of the great pleasures of modern life we take entirely for granted.
Further, it's one thing to take something for granted. It's another thing entirely to not even realize you've been taking things for granted in the first place. For us, the practice of occasional self-denial isn't just a step toward being more grateful. It's also a step toward being more mindful and meta-aware.
And it goes without saying that a more grateful and mindful life is, by definition, a more enjoyable and better-lived life.
Finally, we can go a step further. Stoic self-denial offers us one more advantage, a big one for Casual Kitchen readers: it saves you money.
Huh? A practice that saves a few bucks while increasing your gratitude and enjoyment of life? When they say Stoicism is a truly practical philosophy, they weren't kidding.
So, where else might we exercise occasional self-denial in daily life, in an effort to maximize enjoyment, minimize taking things for granted--and even save a little money while we're at it? A few ideas to get started:
Alcohol:
Examples might be periodic self-denial of a post-work alcoholic beverage. Or, giving up alcohol for a weekend, or a week, or even for a 30 day trial. Who wouldn't want to get more pleasure out of truly glorious beverages like beer? And wine?
Chocolate:
Long ago, I did a 30 day trial here at Casual Kitchen of giving up chocolate. It turned out that one of the more pleasurable experiences in my life was opening up and eating a single square of Dove dark chocolate at the very moment those 30 days were up.
Television/media/video games:
Uhhh, speaking solely for myself, a Facebook game called Candy Crush comes to mind, a game that has become a daily "habit" with me, offering no pleasure at all. Giving it up, even occasionally, would provide obvious benefits.
Swearing:
I've been ruminating about a Friday Links article I linked to recently about swearing, and I'm wondering if I might be able to dramatically increase the pleasure I derive from swearing by going a full day once in a while without swearing.
Readers, what about you? Where in your life would you consider an act of Stoic self-denial?
This post owes a debt of gratitude to William Irvine and his extraordinary book on Stoicism, A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy.
On the concept of self-denial, see chapter 7. How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com
via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
Desire Triggering
Today's post goes deeper into a specific aspect of consumer stoicism: the concept of desire triggering. We'll start with yet another intriguing quote from William Irvine's excellent book A Guide to the Good Life:
"When I go to a mall, for example, I don't buy things; instead, I look around me and am astonished by all the things for sale that I not only don't need but can't imagine myself wanting. My only entertainment at a mall is to watch the other mall-goers. Most of them, I suspect, come to the mall not because there is something specific that they need to buy. Rather, they come in the hope that doing so will trigger a desire for something that, before going to the mall, they didn't want. It might be a desire for a cashmere sweater, a set of socket wrenches, or the latest cell phone.
Why go out of their way to trigger a desire? Because if they trigger one, they can enjoy the rush that comes when they extinguish that desire by buying its object. It is a rush, of course that has as little to do with their long-term happiness as taking a hit of heroin has to do with the long-term happiness of a heroin addict."
Okay. Let's start off with the punch line of this post: If you allow your desires to be triggered, you are obeying someone else's instructions. You're literally obeying the indirect instructions of some company that made some thing or service. Worse, your ego shields you from this knowledge by making you believe you really really need that thing.
Worst of all, you need to work to earn money to pay for that thing, which means you will spend still more of your time obeying--in this case, your boss or your company. This neatly completes the circle of disempowerment.
This is why desire triggering is so toxic. Consumers who permit their desires to be triggered literally give away control over their life. Twice!
Which is why empowered consumers train themselves to respond differently to advertising. They make sure they are brand disloyal and never brainwashed by branding activity. And they understand the various Jedi mind tricks of the consumer products industry.
To these, let's add another (very) brief set of skills empowered consumers will want to cultivate:
1) The ability to recognize a "triggered desire" for a product or service the instant it happens, and to recognize that this desire was installed in your mind by a company seeking your obedience.
2) The ability to identify the underlying genuine desire (e.g., companionship, attention, love, friendship, joy, etc.) the product or service purports to satisfy.
3) Finally and most importantly, the empowered consumer will cultivate the ability to find a genuine way to satisfy the underlying desire. Preferably for free.
Readers, do you want to be controlled by your desires... such that you receive pleasure from "extinguishing" them? Is that pleasure even real?
Read Next: Why Can't I Find People Who Share My Values on Anti-Consumerism and Frugality?
How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
"When I go to a mall, for example, I don't buy things; instead, I look around me and am astonished by all the things for sale that I not only don't need but can't imagine myself wanting. My only entertainment at a mall is to watch the other mall-goers. Most of them, I suspect, come to the mall not because there is something specific that they need to buy. Rather, they come in the hope that doing so will trigger a desire for something that, before going to the mall, they didn't want. It might be a desire for a cashmere sweater, a set of socket wrenches, or the latest cell phone.
Why go out of their way to trigger a desire? Because if they trigger one, they can enjoy the rush that comes when they extinguish that desire by buying its object. It is a rush, of course that has as little to do with their long-term happiness as taking a hit of heroin has to do with the long-term happiness of a heroin addict."
Okay. Let's start off with the punch line of this post: If you allow your desires to be triggered, you are obeying someone else's instructions. You're literally obeying the indirect instructions of some company that made some thing or service. Worse, your ego shields you from this knowledge by making you believe you really really need that thing.
Worst of all, you need to work to earn money to pay for that thing, which means you will spend still more of your time obeying--in this case, your boss or your company. This neatly completes the circle of disempowerment.
This is why desire triggering is so toxic. Consumers who permit their desires to be triggered literally give away control over their life. Twice!
Which is why empowered consumers train themselves to respond differently to advertising. They make sure they are brand disloyal and never brainwashed by branding activity. And they understand the various Jedi mind tricks of the consumer products industry.
To these, let's add another (very) brief set of skills empowered consumers will want to cultivate:
1) The ability to recognize a "triggered desire" for a product or service the instant it happens, and to recognize that this desire was installed in your mind by a company seeking your obedience.
2) The ability to identify the underlying genuine desire (e.g., companionship, attention, love, friendship, joy, etc.) the product or service purports to satisfy.
3) Finally and most importantly, the empowered consumer will cultivate the ability to find a genuine way to satisfy the underlying desire. Preferably for free.
Readers, do you want to be controlled by your desires... such that you receive pleasure from "extinguishing" them? Is that pleasure even real?
Read Next: Why Can't I Find People Who Share My Values on Anti-Consumerism and Frugality?
How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com
via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
Consumer Stoicism
After a brief hiatus, we're back at Casual Kitchen! I'd like to thank readers for your patience while I took last month off from blogging.
*************************************
Readers, I'd like to share a brief quote from William Irvine's exceptional book A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy:
"Since becoming a Stoic, my desires have changed dramatically; I no longer want many of the things I once took to be essential for proper living… I used to long for a new car, but when my sixteen-year-old car recently died, I replaced it with a nine-year-old car, something that a decade ago I could not have imagined myself doing. (The "new" car, by the way, has two things that my old car lacked: a cup holder and a working radio. What a joy!) There was a time when I would have understood why someone would want to own a Rolex watch; now such behavior puzzles me. I used to have less money than I knew what to do with; this is no longer the case, in large part because I want so few of the things that money can buy."
If you're at all interested in consumer empowerment, if you have the least bit of interest in taking your power into your own hands as a consumer, then this quote ought to resonate with you. Strongly. To see why, let me share a thought experiment with you.
Which of the following two consumers is more empowered?
1) The person who "longs" for a new car, a new watch, a new phone, and has become trained to become happy when getting them, or
2) The person who deeply realizes the central truth that these things don't actually bring happiness, they merely offer a temporary form of pleasurable distraction that most people confuse with genuine happiness?
The answer should be instantly obvious to most CK readers. How obvious is it to you?
I'll go one step further. If you "long" for something, can you ever be in a position of empowerment in the face of the company selling that something? Particularly if it's an aspirational product or service designed specifically to trigger your desires? *
Don't get me wrong: The idea here is not to become a Vulcan and purge all emotions and desires so you can tolerate the alleged indignities of driving an old car. That misses the point entirely, and it's not even close to what I'm suggesting.
Moreover, it's not what a Stoic philosopher would suggest either. The Stoics pretty much get a bad rap: they are badly misunderstood in the modern era, and today most people mistakenly think of them as joyless duds. It's a shame, because nothing could be further from the truth.
Furthermore, the Stoics knew as well as anyone that we of course long for things. It's human nature. But what we genuinely desire and long for are things like companionship, attention, love, friendship, joy. Not products or services available in the consumer marketplace! Consumer products are nothing more than easily available proxies for (or worse, distractions from) these underlying, joyous, and deeply human emotions.
Which brings us, finally, to a tremendous irony. Products and services in the consumer marketplace cost money, usually a lot of money. But the genuine things we long for are almost always free! It's so painfully ironic I feel like I just passed a kidney stone.
* Note: we'll go a bit deeper in to "desire triggering" in next week's post.
How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
*************************************
Readers, I'd like to share a brief quote from William Irvine's exceptional book A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy
:"Since becoming a Stoic, my desires have changed dramatically; I no longer want many of the things I once took to be essential for proper living… I used to long for a new car, but when my sixteen-year-old car recently died, I replaced it with a nine-year-old car, something that a decade ago I could not have imagined myself doing. (The "new" car, by the way, has two things that my old car lacked: a cup holder and a working radio. What a joy!) There was a time when I would have understood why someone would want to own a Rolex watch; now such behavior puzzles me. I used to have less money than I knew what to do with; this is no longer the case, in large part because I want so few of the things that money can buy."
If you're at all interested in consumer empowerment, if you have the least bit of interest in taking your power into your own hands as a consumer, then this quote ought to resonate with you. Strongly. To see why, let me share a thought experiment with you.
Which of the following two consumers is more empowered?
1) The person who "longs" for a new car, a new watch, a new phone, and has become trained to become happy when getting them, or
2) The person who deeply realizes the central truth that these things don't actually bring happiness, they merely offer a temporary form of pleasurable distraction that most people confuse with genuine happiness?
The answer should be instantly obvious to most CK readers. How obvious is it to you?
I'll go one step further. If you "long" for something, can you ever be in a position of empowerment in the face of the company selling that something? Particularly if it's an aspirational product or service designed specifically to trigger your desires? *
Don't get me wrong: The idea here is not to become a Vulcan and purge all emotions and desires so you can tolerate the alleged indignities of driving an old car. That misses the point entirely, and it's not even close to what I'm suggesting.
Moreover, it's not what a Stoic philosopher would suggest either. The Stoics pretty much get a bad rap: they are badly misunderstood in the modern era, and today most people mistakenly think of them as joyless duds. It's a shame, because nothing could be further from the truth.
Furthermore, the Stoics knew as well as anyone that we of course long for things. It's human nature. But what we genuinely desire and long for are things like companionship, attention, love, friendship, joy. Not products or services available in the consumer marketplace! Consumer products are nothing more than easily available proxies for (or worse, distractions from) these underlying, joyous, and deeply human emotions.
Which brings us, finally, to a tremendous irony. Products and services in the consumer marketplace cost money, usually a lot of money. But the genuine things we long for are almost always free! It's so painfully ironic I feel like I just passed a kidney stone.
* Note: we'll go a bit deeper in to "desire triggering" in next week's post.
How can I support Casual Kitchen?
Easy. Do all your shopping at Amazon.com
via the links on this site! You can also link to me or subscribe to my RSS feed. Finally, consider sharing this article, or any other article you particularly enjoyed here, to Facebook, Twitter (follow me @danielckoontz!) or to bookmarking sites like reddit, digg or stumbleupon. I'm deeply grateful to my readers for their ongoing support.
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