Set aside a certain number of days, during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare, with coarse and rough dress, saying to yourself the while: ‘Is this the condition that I feared? / Seneca
Voluntary discomfort
There is this stoic practice called Askesis, in which one part makes you step back and do something unnecessary or simply difficult. Part of the idea is to realize what kind of luxury we live in during our day-to-day life. I learned about Askesis while reading Stoic philosophy, and it seemed logical to me that by living a life of comfort and without real problems, this comfort becomes your new default way of seeing the world, making you forget how grateful you should be for what you have. So I decided to see for myself whether this practice still holds some truth. The following examples are just a few things I’ve tried but it gives an idea what I am talking about, its purpose is not to seem strong or wise or even stoic, it’s purpose is to remind myself to feel grateful to the things I have in life.
It’s important to note though that Askesis does not only mean what I just proposed, it more or less leans heavily into virtues and into learning to control your impulses, overcome your weaknesses, and empower your reasoning. More under Askesis.
Oatmeal, raw
Well, yes, it seems kind of uninteresting. I mean, it’s oatmeal after all—no water, no milk, no sugar, nothing. What’s there to expect? I can tell you that: it’s dry. But that’s the point, right? It’s not supposed to feel good or taste good; it’s food, after all, so its purpose is simply to make you feel full, and it sure did that. And to be honest with you, it wasn’t that hard either. One of the purposes of practicing one’s body in Askesis is to make yourself comfortable with the uncomfortable, and it worked. It’s not a pleasant experience, but it doesn’t have to be.
Potato, cooked, that’s it
Just a cooked potato, nothing more, nothing less. Boiled water – potato – wait – profit. Also, like the oatmeal, nothing exciting really, but it does its job and somehow even gives joy. It’s hard to explain, but it feels like by feeling less—less sensory input, less taste—you realize in an instant how good your life actually is. It’s a feeling of gratefulness, I guess, which of course is something you should have more often in life, and of course eating a potato or oatmeal shouldn’t be a requirement for feeling this way, but it definitely helps.
Sleeping on the floor
Well, not really though, because I’m afraid of back pain, but I’ve bought a sleeping mat, 3 to 4 cm thick, which does its job in giving a hard surface pretty well. Of course it’s not floor level difficulty, but it’s close. Also, it’s not something you do all night, still, it has the same effect the food has: it resets the baseline of your prosperity, and you will love your bed the next day. At least I did. I also learned from that experience that sleeping on the floor has its benefits. The night seems more restless, but honestly, the feeling you get the next day says something different. Maybe it’s because the human body isn’t used to sleeping on soft surfaces and something more solid helps it somehow, but who knows. All I can say is that it doesn’t feel like a step back, more like something I want to do more often.
Needs vs habits
In today’s world, needs and habits often become the same thing, tangled together. It’s a need to eat, sure. But it seems like the idea of eating just to feel full doesn’t really cut it anymore. According to my observations (not in a professional manner of course), people don’t really eat for the purpose of eating. They eat partly for the pleasure of eating itself, to feel full, and partly to eat something delicious or something that just tastes good. To be clear, that’s not a bad thing. Eating good food is perfectly fine. But I think it’s important to remind yourself from time to time that taste itself isn’t there to make you feel good; it’s an evolutionary mechanism to reward you for eating salty, fatty, or sweet food because our brain values them more than others. The enjoyment you get from eating good food became a habit, which in turn became a necessity in modern times. The same goes for sleeping on a mattress or driving in a car with music keeping you company.
Slaves of desires
The modern human became a slave of its desires, or at least it feels this way. And it leaves room to question its importance, because honestly, why is eating good food a bad thing? Isn’t it a cultural development, something we evolved into—being able to eat what we want and, even if it’s an evolutionary mechanism, letting it make us feel good? Isn’t that actually a good thing? That is something each and every one needs to answer for him or herself. Is the necessity of needing tasty food a weakness in today’s age? Who am I to judge, I often eat good food myself! Still, I think remembering, or practicing, eating for the sake of eating is a good thing—almost a small step towards freedom.
Imagine someone who can eat everything with the same passion: a piece of cake, a slice of pizza, a piece of plain bread, a tomato,… Isn’t that person more free than the one who craves only tasty food?
Opinions of others
It’s hard to explain to other people why I engage in such, by today’s standards, weird behavior, but from my experience it’s easier to just make some weird stuff up. Like using it as an excuse for preparing for some end-of-the-world war or something by hardening yourself. That still makes you seem weird, and of course a joke will be dropped here and there, but it honestly doesn’t feel as strange as saying that I’m doing some Askesis I’ve read about in ancient texts, even though you clearly notice how it produces a positive impact on your life and on how you perceive things. It may be a lie and of course normally you don’t lie, but as I said, it’s easier than explaining the real reason. It’s funny though: talking about these practices and philosophy in general gives you the same feeling as when people talk about veganism. You just want to share your positive experiences and by no means intend to lecture others, but by presenting your worldview it sometimes seems like they feel judged by you, which in turn makes you feel uncomfortable for even bringing it up. If that makes sense. Humans are indeed a weird species—fascinating at the same time, though.
Some final words
Of course, my way of practicing Askesis felt more like a playful experiment, precisely because I only tried each exercise once, never for several days. Seneca, after all, spoke of voluntary discomfort as something to be practiced for three or four days in a row. The goal is discomfort, not the mild sense of novelty that I experienced. One could argue that I failed the lesson — and in a certain sense I did — yet this does not trouble me. What matters is not perfection, but the refusal to remain unmoved. Even the smallest act outweighs the pure inertia of doing nothing at all.
At the very least, I succeeded in weaving this practice into my life from time to time, reminding myself how grateful I should be for the quiet luxuries I take for granted. And I intend to go further. When the moment is right, I will train myself in all forms of Askesis, for its scope is wider than mere physical discomfort: it is the shaping of character itself and by doing so maybe, maybe, becoming a little bit wiser at the end.