Seek joy, not pleasure

0 Comments | Oakland Tribune, Jan 7, 2006

"Do not look for rest in any pleasure, because you were not created for pleasure: you were created for joy. And if you do not know the difference between pleasure and joy, you have not yet begun to live."

Thomas Merton, 1915-1968

American monk, author, poet

'YOU were not created for pleasure." Yeah, right. Try selling that. Most people will think you're nuts. Most people spend their lives searching for and looking forward to pleasure.

But Merton was right; pleasures are a mirage. From a distance, they look good. Even great. But, alas, after we experience them, we're left feeling unfulfilled and wondering why we're not content.

Merton wasn't alone in his assertion that joy is greater than pleasure.

Mihaly Csikszentmihaly, 2000's "Thinker of the Year," calls joy "flow."

Positive psychologist Martin Seligman calls it gratification. I call it work.

Pleasures require consumption. Eating, drinking, sleeping, watching, listening, buying. They're nice. They enhance life, but they're not life.

Joy, flow, gratification -- whatever you want to call it -- is the core of life, and it requires production. It doesn't come from eating the cake. It comes from baking the cake.

It doesn't come from watching the game. It comes from playing the game. It doesn't come from listening to music. It comes from making music. It doesn't come from enjoying the movie. It comes from creating the movie.

It isn't about buying the product or benefiting from the service. It's about producing the product or providing the service.

The essence of life isn't passive. It isn't resting. It's active. It's working. Pleasures are a reward. They shouldn't be the goal.

In its rawest form, it's about moving. I first realized this when I was 8. After a night of basketball in an old, smelly gym, I was tired, sweaty and spent.

My father drove me home and ordered me to take a hot shower. My mother warmed some Campbell's chicken noodle soup and made me a ham sandwich.

Relaxing and eating felt so good, but I was way too young to understand why.

I know now that I was experiencing the lingering joy of physicality. The shower and food only increased it; they didn't cause it.

Working my body did. We have to earn joy. If we want to feel good -- feel alive -- we need to stop resting and start perspiring.

As I approached the beach, I wasn't in the mood to run. I never am. But I knew that if I started, and adapted to physical exertion's discomfort, I'd be rewarded.

Which I was. A planned 20-minute run became 40. Large waves crashed on the sand. The sand cushioned each stride's impact. Fat little birds hunted in the surf. Rain began to fall. I began to sweat. It wasn't pleasure I was feeling. It was joy.

Jaime Richards lives and teaches in Fremont. Contact him at jrichards2517@hotmail.com or visit his Web site: http://www.what-it- takes.com.