On his journey to enlightenment, the Buddha-to-be spent many years avoiding pleasure and building up his endurance. Like many spiritual seekers of his time, he practiced austerities, or tapas, which literally means “heat.” One extreme form involved meditating under the hot noon sun, occasionally surrounded by four fires to increase the challenge. Such practices might seem bizarre to us now, but they were popular among certain groups seeking spiritual liberation. They believed pleasure and happiness were linked to human weaknesses and that the mind needed to fully control the body to achieve liberation.
For some time, the Buddha-to-be embraced this notion. He engaged in extreme practices such as holding his breath until he was in pain, pulling out his hair and beard, sleeping on thorns, and enduring severe fasting. According to his own accounts, these efforts brought him close to death but provided no real benefits.
Recognizing the futility of these practices, he reflected on his experiences and considered alternative approaches. A childhood memory surfaced: sitting under the shade of a tree, watching his father plow a field, and naturally slipping into a meditative state of calm and joy. He realized that this pleasant state was completely wholesome and unrelated to sensual pleasure or unskillful qualities. This reflection led him to understand that such a state of easeful happiness could be the path to the awakening he sought. His intuition strongly affirmed this revelation.
While ancient austerities might seem odd now, similar attitudes can be seen today. Many of us work long hours, feel guilty about downtime, and deprive ourselves of sleep to be more productive, believing that present self-denial will yield future rewards. Both ancient seekers and modern individuals sometimes mistakenly think that enduring pain now is a down-payment for future ease and happiness that may never come.
You might wonder about the apparent contradiction: the Buddha opposed extreme asceticism but his monastic followers lived very simply, eating leftover food, wearing rags, avoiding music, sleeping under trees, and owning very little. This lifestyle wasn’t about punishing themselves, but about simplifying life to focus on spiritual practice. They weren’t afraid of pleasure, but they avoided sensual pleasures that could distract them from a life dedicated to mindfulness and meditation.
The Buddha understood that not all pleasures were harmful; some forms of joy, particularly those from meditation, were actually part of the path to awakening. From my experience, the times I’ve been happiest were during retreats where life was extremely simple, with minimal communication and ample time for meditation and walking in nature. This starkly contrasts with the stress of everyday life, filled with responsibilities and constant activity.
Living an austere life in the early monastic community had its challenges. Some monks and nuns missed family life and sexual activity, leading them to leave the monastic life. However, many found this life deeply joyful, filled with calm, love, appreciation, and meditation.
Though meditation is meant to be enjoyable, many modern meditators don’t find it so. It’s worth considering if we bring an element of asceticism into our practice, treating it as a dutiful task rather than a source of joy. We might think our meditation isn’t enjoyable due to a lack of advanced techniques or needing a psychological breakthrough. Often, simply relaxing and not taking ourselves too seriously can make a difference. I frequently ask myself, “Is there anything I’m doing right now that’s suppressing joy?” This question helps me notice and release bodily tension or a serious attitude, allowing joy to naturally arise.
Try seeing joy as always present, just waiting to be noticed. Ask yourself in meditation and daily life, “Is there anything I’m doing right now that’s suppressing joy?” This simple practice can make meditation something you want to return to repeatedly.