Hedonism

Hedonism has cultivated a fairly negative reputation in the West, especially in the United States, where it's come to represent such unflattering meanings as "lazy," "selfish," "excess," and - in the more conservative necks of the woods - even "sinful." Hedonism began with a great reputation, starting with the Greeks, and then adopted by the Romans, spreading to Egypt and other locals. Then Rome fell, and the Church, as usual, ruined everything.

Hedonism simply means the pursuit of pleasure. On the face of it, when you take a step back and shake off the lens that society has placed in front of you since you were a toddler, what's so bad about pleasure? There's a great saying about sex that I'll paraphrase (while forgetting the name of the author), "In America, sex is an obsession. Everywhere else, it's a fact." Of course, carnal pleasure is only one very small slice of the pleasure pie, but it's what always gets everyone up in arms the most.

A successful hedonist indulges in pleasure with moderation and balance. It's very Eastern, in a way. Pleasure should be actively sought everywhere, whether in lunch, an evening cocktail, a massage, a vacation, sunbathing, or a sensuous lover. We're the only modern democratic state, to the best of my knowledge, that doesn't have vacation days mandated by law. We're obsessed with perfection: getting the perfect body, climbing the corporate ladder, running the treadmill of tasks to reach goals in the dream of being "successful." Politically correct pleasure, as an ideal, is always something that's in the future. It's an abstract goal that we're constantly striving for, putting off day-to-day pleasure in the hope that by the time we hit retirement we'll be able to get a hearty slap on the back from some unknown approving hand and some sort of acknowledgment and recognition of our "success" in life. It ain't gonna happen.

A friend of mine suggested I read "The Hedonism Handbook" by Michael Flocker. It's part meat, part fluff, part history, and sprinkled with tidbits of wisdom on every page. I'll quote from a passage:

On a recent trip to Barcelona with a friend, I was amused to find that many businesses really do close shop for several hours in the middle of the day. The happy and friendly residents of the city tend not to go out to dinner until nine or ten in the evening, and it's customary to head out for a drink some time around midnight. My friend and I were told by the hotel staff that no one goes to dance clubs before two in the morning. Armed with typical American skepticism, we assumed that this meant that the clubs don't really get hopping until about two in the morning. Cut to: Two American tourists standing alone in a cavernous dance club at 1:45.

To the swarthy and sexy residents of this seaside city, it seemed only logical that the hours between midnight and two were for socializing at bars. Then when the bars close at two, if the urge to dance is stronger than the urge to retire, off you go. And so it went, usually until about six in the morning. After several nights of such debauchery, my friend and I found ourselves in conversation with the manager of our hotel. Naively, we asked him, "How does anybody get any work done if they close the businesses in the middle of the day and go out partying every night until the early morning?" The look of pity on his face spoke volumes. He smiled and confided in a most delightfully resigned manner, "You know, in America you are all in this mad race to be number one. And you know what? You win! You can be number one. Here, we would rather enjoy our lives."

This statement was simple, but the truth it touched up on was a significant one. The frantic race to be number one is a sad and desperate compulsion. Whatever happened to just playing the game? Don't parents teach that to their children? When did the rules change? When did it become a disappointment for an Olympic athlete to win a silver medal? Is happiness reserved exclusively for the one individual who places first, and everyone else is expected to shrink back in shame and disappointment? Who's the genius who came up with that perspective?

This concept is shockingly foreign to me, and it raises a lot of questions about life, personal goals, and happiness. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy pleasure. Pleasure is fun - but I'd never really adopted pleasure as a philosophy. Reading this book has forced me to re-examine my own life and to look to the future with a different eye. Of course, we all need money and steady work. I'm very thankful that I have the opportunity to pursue a college education, and I'll definitely be seeing it through - but it's made me question what I do with my life after graduation. And more importantly, how I spend my free time.

This book isn't the end all, be all of hedonistic thought, but it's a good place to start for a neophyte such as myself. More updates as they come. For now? I'm definitely penciling evening cocktails into my schedule.