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Sensual pleasures. How does addiction to sensual pleasures arise? But what drives feelings

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Sensual pleasure... Dictionary of Yoga and Vedanta

It constitutes a special branch of philosophy dealing with beauty and art. The very term E. comes from the Greek αίσθετικός, which means sensual, and in this sense it is found in the very founder of the science of beauty, Kant, in Criticism... ... Encyclopedic Dictionary F. Brockhaus and I.A. Ephron

An aesthetic category that characterizes phenomena of the highest aesthetic perfection. In the history of thought, the specificity of P. was realized gradually, through its correlation with other types of values: utilitarian (benefit), cognitive (truth), ... ... Philosophical Encyclopedia

Samian Επίκουρος Date of birth: 342 or 341 BC. uh... Wikipedia

SENSITIVITY 1) the ability of the human psyche to experience the influences of external objects and respond to these influences, realized with the help of the senses, actualized in the forms of sensation, perception, representation; content… … Philosophical Encyclopedia

One of the main ethno-socio-historically determined categories of classical aesthetics, characterizing traditional aesthetic values, expressing one of the main and most common forms of non-utilitarian subject-object relations,... ... Encyclopedia of Cultural Studies

Balla Lorenzo- Neo-Epicureanism of Lorenzo Balla One of the richest and most significant figures of the 15th century was, of course, Lorenzo Balla (1407 1457). The philosophical position, which is most expressed in the work On the True and False Good, is marked by criticism of excesses... ... Western philosophy from its origins to the present day

KAMA (Sanskrit käma) is a term of Indian thought denoting sensual desire or sensual pleasure. In Hinduism, kama represents the satisfaction of sensory desires as one of the goals, and therefore values, of a person (purushartha). Of all... ... Philosophical Encyclopedia

- (more precisely, Juan) is one of the most beloved images of world literature (up to 140 works are dedicated to him). The goal of D. J.’s life is love for a woman, for the possession of which human and “divine” laws are usually violated. The image of D. J. was formed on... ... Literary encyclopedia

Adj., used. compare often Morphology: sensual and sensual, sensual, sensual, sensual; more sensual; adv. sensually 1. Sensual world these are all images, objects that we perceive and cognize with the help of the five senses. 2.… … Dictionary Dmitrieva

Books

  • Kama-samukhi, Ignatiev A.. We present to your attention a translation from Sanskrit into Russian 171; Kama-samukhi 187;, a little-known monument of Sanskrit literature, dedicated to the topic love. The word itself...

Sensual pleasures

Thus, Freud cannot be called a strict disciplinarian. And he was not an ascetic either. His sexual activity appears to have declined very early; We know that in August 1893, when he was only 37 years old, the founder of psychoanalysis preferred abstinence. However, this was not forever. Anna, him last child, born in December 1895. IN next year he told Fliess, who was always interested biological rhythms with a period of 28 days: “I have no sexual desire, and I am impotent - although in reality this is, of course, not yet the case,” and in 1897 told him about a dream in which he was walking down the stairs, almost naked, and he was being chased by a woman. At the same time, he felt not fear, but erotic excitement.

Indeed, as we have already seen, in 1900 Freud noted that he was “done with childbearing.” However, there is intriguing evidence that he was not done with sexual arousal and intercourse - for the next 10 years or more. In July 1915, Sigmund Freud recorded and analyzed several of his dreams. One of them was about his wife: “Martha is coming to me, and I have to write something for her... in a notebook. I take a pencil... Then everything becomes blurry.” In interpreting the dream, Freud suggested several events of the previous day as a causative agent, among which there was inevitably a “sexual significance”: the dream “had to do with successful copulation on Wednesday morning.” At that time Freud was 59 years old. Thus, when he told James Putnam that same year that he had made “very moderate use” of the sexual freedom he preached, he was clearly showing an aversion to extramarital affairs. As in some dreams, in Freud's articles and random phrases there are hints of the violent erotic fantasies that haunted him for many years. For the most part, they remained fantasies. “Being cultured people—Kulturmenschen—we,” the founder of psychoanalysis admitted with a sardonic grin, “are slightly predisposed to psychological impotence.” A few months later, Freud, jokingly but with a hint of melancholy, suggested that it would be useful to revive an ancient institution, “an academy of love where ars amandi would be taught.” How extensive his practice was in what would be taught in such an academy remained a mystery. However, the remark about "successful intercourse" in 1915 suggests that in some cases he failed.

Freud's abstinence was partly due to his apparent disgust with all known methods of birth control. We know that in the early 90s of the 19th century, while studying - using the example of his patients and, quite possibly, his own marriage - the sexual origin of neuroses, Freud declared psychological consequences use of contraception. He was convinced that, except in the most favorable cases, the use of a condom led to neurotic disorders. Other methods are no better than coitus interruptus; depending on the method used, either the man or the woman is ultimately doomed to become a victim of hysteria or fear neurosis. “Had Freud continued in this direction,” observed Jane Malcolm, “he would have become the inventor of the improved condom, rather than the founder of psychoanalysis.” Be that as it may, he viewed the difficulties arising from the shortcomings of contraception as keys to the workings of the human psyche, including his own, and to its secrets. In a note sent to Fliess on this delicate topic, Freud talks not about himself, but about his patients and how their frank confessions helped his theory. However, the drafts, at once intimate and passionate, also testify to personal investment. They reflected his sexual experience, which could not even be called satisfactory.

Freud's abstinence appears to have had less to do with the expectation of imminent death. In 1911, he told Emma, ​​Jung's wife: "My marriage has long died out, and there is only one thing left for me - to die." However, Sigmund Freud also found reason for pride in abstinence. In his article on "cultural" sexual morality, published in 1908, he noted that modern civilization makes extraordinary demands high demands to the ability of sensual restraint. It requires people to abstain from sexual intercourse until marriage and then limit sexual activity to one partner. According to Freud, most people are unable to fulfill these demands or pay an excessive emotional price for their fulfillment. “To sublimate it, to divert the forces of the sexual instinct from its goal towards a higher cultural goal is possible for an insignificant minority, and only temporarily.” The majority “become neurasthenic or even pay with their health.”

But Freud did not consider himself either neurasthenic or sick. Rather, he had no doubt that he had sublimated his instincts and was now engaged in “cultural” work higher order. However, old Adam could not be completely curbed: in his old age, the founder of psychoanalysis clearly admired pretty women. Lou Andreas-Salome, famous writer, philosopher and psychotherapist, activist cultural life Europe at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, beautiful and dangerous for men, was a striking, but not the only example of this. In 1907, in a letter from Italy, Freud - at that time he was apparently engaged in the sublimation of his erotic impulses - told Jung that he had accidentally met his young colleague, who “seemed to have acquired some woman again. This is how practice interferes with theory.” This incident made him think about own experience: “When I have completely overcome my libido (in the usual sense), I will begin The Love Life of Humanity.” Obviously, in 1907 he had not yet overcome his libido - in the usual sense.

Thus, Freud did not give up sensual pleasures for a long time. He agreed with Horace's statement, carpe diem - "live in the present", a philosophical justification for the desire to seize the moment, citing the precariousness of life's realities and the futility of virtuous self-denial. After all, the founder of psychoanalysis admitted, “each of us had moments and periods when we recognized the correctness of this philosophy of life.” At such moments, people are inclined to reproach the ruthless severity of the teaching of morality: “It only knows how to demand, without rewarding anything.” Being a strict moralist, Sigmund Freud at the same time did not deny the need for pleasure.

The things that accumulated over the years in Freud's house testify to a certain sensual pleasure that he, a doctor and family man, found not only pleasant, but also acceptable. The apartment at Berggasse 19 was a small world that focused conscious choice; it completely reflected Freud along with his inherent culture - both what was in him and, strangely enough, what was not in him. Sigmund Freud was an educated burgher, a representative of the middle class of that era, but his attitude towards what was usually valued in this environment and what was often really valued - painting, music, literature, architecture - cannot always be predicted. Freud was by no means immune to man-made beauty. In 1913, the founder of psychoanalysis was happy to learn that Karl Abraham liked the Dutch resort of Noordwijk aan Zee, where he had vacationed before. “First of all,” Freud recalled, “the sunsets are magnificent.” But he appreciated even more what was created by human hands. “Tiny Dutch towns are charming. Deft is a little diamond.” Painters and sculptors, as well as architects, delighted his eye even more than landscapes.

Freud was very sensitive to beauty, but had traditional tastes. The things he surrounded himself with were uncompromising in their conservatism and adherence to established rules. The founder of psychoanalysis loved the little things that most bourgeois of the 19th century considered an integral part of their lives: photographs of family members and close friends, souvenirs from places he visited and which he recalled with pleasure, engravings and figurines that were, so to speak, the heritage of the old regime in art - invariably academic, without a spark of imagination or originality. The revolutions that raged in painting, poetry and music did not affect Freud in any way; when they drew attention to themselves, which was rare, he strongly disapproved of them. From the paintings on the walls of his apartment, one could not guess that at the time he moved to Berggasse 19, French impressionism had already flourished, or that Klimt, Kokoschka, and subsequently Schiele were working in Vienna. Commenting with obvious hostility “in highest degree modern" portrait of Karl Abraham, he wrote to a student that he was horrified to see "how cruelly your tolerance or sympathy for modern “art” can be punished. The sarcastic quotation marks around the word “art” are indicative. Faced with expressionism, Freud honestly admitted his limitations to Oskar Pfister.

Accordingly, the furniture that filled his apartment did not in any way reflect the experimental design that at that time was transforming the homes of trend-conscious Viennese residents. The family lived in solid Victorian comfort with embroidered tablecloths, velvet chairs, framed photographic portraits and oriental rugs galore. Their apartment breathes almost outright eclecticism, manifested in the mass of objects accumulated over the years, which do not obey a specific decorative plan, but testify to a simple desire for comfort. It seems that in this closeness, which people of more austere taste would find oppressive, the family found support: it embodied the plan of domestic comfort drawn up by Freud before his marriage, confirmed the prosperity that had finally been achieved, and also supported cherished memories. And indeed, to the consultation room and personal account For Sigmund Freud, material wealth and memories of the past left no less an imprint than on the rest of the apartment at Berggasse 19. The founder of psychoanalysis's assessment of art was more radical than his perception of beauty.

A very similar conflict characterizes Freud's attitude towards literature. His books, monographs and articles testify to his erudition, tenacious memory and excellent sense of style. As we know, he often turned to his favorite German classics, especially Goethe and Schiller, as well as to Shakespeare, from whom he found fascinating riddles and large passages from which he could recite in his almost perfect English. Such wits as Heinrich Heine and cruder humorists such as Wilhelm Busch provided him with vivid illustrations. However, in choosing his favorites, Freud neglected the European avant-garde of his era. He knew Ibsen mainly as a courageous iconoclast, but, apparently, he paid little attention to the work of poets like Baudelaire or playwrights like Strindberg. Among the inhabitants of Vienna, who wrote, painted and composed music in a stormy atmosphere, permeated with avant-garde impulses, only Arthur Schnitzler achieved the unconditional approval of Freud, as we already know - for his deep psychological research sexuality of modern Viennese society.

This does not mean that Sigmund Freud did not spend time reading novels, poems and essays for pleasure. He read, and his reading range was wide. When he needed rest, especially in his old age while recovering from operations, Freud entertained himself with murder stories from such master detectives as Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie. Nevertheless, he usually preferred more sublime literature. In 1907, responding to a questionnaire from his publisher Hugo Heller, who asked to name ten good books, Freud listed not works, but writers - two Swiss, two French, two English, one Russian, one Dutch, one Austrian and one American. These are Godfried Keller and Conrad Ferdinand Meyer, Anatole France and Emile Zola, Rudyard Kipling and Lord Macaulay, Dmitry Merezhkovsky, Multatuli, Theodor Gompertz and Mark Twain. These preferences, like those in the fine arts, are relatively traditional and much less daring than one would expect from such a rebel. Of course, a spirit of contradiction emerges in them too. Multatuli, the Dutch essayist and novelist Eduard Douwes Dekker, was something of a political and moral reformer. Kipling's The Jungle Book could be perceived as a kind of protest against artificiality modern civilization, and Mark Twain was without a doubt the most irreverent of humorists.

To be sure, some of Freud's favorite works, such as Macaulay's decidedly optimistic essays on English culture from the 17th to the 19th centuries and Gompertz's equally liberal history of ancient Greek philosophy, could themselves be considered tradition-subverting. They remind us of Freud's unpaid debt to thought Enlightenment XVIII century with its critical spirit and hope for humanity - the founder of psychoanalysis became acquainted with it both directly, reading Diderot and Voltaire, and through the works of their heirs from the 19th century. The main theme of the works of Macaulay and Gompertz was the triumphant spread of light and reason throughout a world immersed in the darkness of superstition and persecution. As we know, Freud loved to repeat that he spent his life destroying illusions, but, despite all his incorrigible pessimism, he sometimes delighted in amusing himself with the illusion of the possibility of progress gradually accumulating in human affairs. It is noteworthy that when Freud wrote for publication, be it the psychology of the individual, the group, or the culture as a whole, he was less optimistic. But while reading for pleasure, the founder of psychoanalysis seemed to allow himself some of the desired fantasies that were harshly suppressed during his work.

It is not surprising that Freud's literary judgments were often purely political. One of the reasons why he praised Anatole France was the fact that France showed itself to be a resolute opponent of anti-Semitism, and he rated Dmitry Merezhkovsky, the author of the novel about Leonardo da Vinci, higher than he deserved, due to the fact that this author flattered a Renaissance artist whose independence and intellectual courage Freud admired. But most of his favorite writers were valued by him because they turned out to be talented lay psychologists. Sigmund Freud believed that he could learn from them in the same way that biographers and anthropologists could learn from him. That doesn't mean he was limited person– although this own words Freud. Yes, the practicality of his tastes is undeniable. As he himself admitted in 1914 in an article about Michelangelo’s Moses: “I have often noticed that the content of a work of art attracts me more strongly than its formal and technical qualities, to which the artist himself attaches paramount importance. To evaluate the numerous means and some of the effects of art, I actually lack correct understanding" Freud understood the difference between purely formal, aesthetic pleasure and the pleasure that content can provide fine arts or literature, but he stopped there. Partly because he considered artistic methods beyond his understanding. “Meaning means almost nothing to these people; they are only concerned with line, shape, and the correspondence of contours. They are guided by Lustprinzip.” In Freud, on the contrary, the reality principle prevailed over Lustprinzip, that is, the pleasure principle.

This practical mindset inevitably shaped Freud's rather detached and mocking attitude towards music. He specifically emphasized his ignorance of musical matters and admitted that he was unable to reproduce a melody without going out of tune. In The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud actually boasted of his lack of hearing: while singing the aria from The Marriage of Figaro in which the protagonist challenges Count Almaviva, he claims that a stranger would probably not recognize the tune. Those who heard the founder of psychoanalysis hum arias from Mozart's operas confirmed these words. He did not seek to meet musicians and, as his daughter Anna briefly noted, never went to concerts. Nevertheless, he liked opera, at least some operas. The daughters, looking through Freud's memoirs, were able to find five of these: “Don Giovanni,” “The Marriage of Figaro” and “The Magic Flute” by Mozart, “Carmen” by Bizet and “Die Mastersingers of Nuremberg” by Wagner. The list is as neutral as it is brief: no Claude Debussy, no Richard Strauss. Of all Wagner's operas, of course, the most acceptable was Die Meistersinger - after such early works, like The Flying Dutchman. And Carmen - although it took some time to conquer Paris after premiering there in 1875 - quickly became a favorite opera in German-speaking countries. Brahms, Wagner and Tchaikovsky, who agreed with each other on almost nothing, considered Bizet's opera a masterpiece. Nietzsche, who saw at least 12 performances, contrasted its liveliness and Gallic charm with the ponderous and gloomy Teutonic musical dramas of Wagner. Bismarck, that connoisseur and lover of music, boasted that he had listened to the opera 27 times. To admire these musical works, you didn’t have to be an admirer of the avant-garde. There is no doubt that Freud knew them well enough, since, if necessary, he used quotes from them: Figaro’s aria “It would please the Count to start dancing,” Sarastro’s address to Princess Pamina in “The Magic Flute”, when he says that he cannot make her fall in love himself, as well as Leporello’s speech when he boastfully lists all Don Giovanni’s victories to Donna Elvira.

The appeal of opera to a non-musical person like Freud is no mystery. After all, opera is music and words, a song combined with dramatic action. Like most of the books that the founder of psychoanalysis read, opera could offer him the pleasant surprise of recognition. In its unusual, often melodramatic way, the opera tried to resolve the psychological problems that occupied Freud all his life: love, hatred, greed, betrayal. Moreover, opera is a performance, and Sigmund Freud was always particularly sensitive to visual impressions. He looked at his patients no less carefully than he listened to them. Moreover, the opera depicts disturbing moral conflicts that find a satisfactory resolution, and presents unusually eloquent characters engaged in the battle of good and evil. With the exception of Carmen, all five of Freud's favorite operas—especially The Magic Flute and Die Mastersingers of Nuremberg—depict the triumph of virtue over sin: a result that satisfies the most sophisticated listeners and also provides insight into the struggle that goes on in the souls of men. and women.

Opera and, for that matter, theater were rare entertainments in Freud's life. A regular, daily recurring pleasure for him was food. The founder of psychoanalysis was not a gastronome or gourmet and did not tolerate wine well. However, he enjoyed food. Freud preferred to eat in silence and concentration. In Vienna, the main meal of the day was lunch, Mittagessen, which was served promptly at one o'clock in the afternoon and consisted of soup, meat, vegetables and dessert: "...the usual three-course meal, changing according to the season, when in the spring we have an additional dish, asparagus." Freud was especially fond of Italian artichokes, boiled beef - Rindfleisch - and roast beef with onions. But he didn’t like cauliflower and chicken. Freud also adored dense and satisfying b?rgerliche dishes, without any influence of sophisticated French cuisine.

He compensated for some primitive taste with cigars. Sigmund Freud could not do without them. When, in the early 90s of the 19th century, Fliess - a specialist in otolaryngology, anyway - ordered him to quit smoking in order to get rid of nasal catarrh, Freud was in despair and asked to soften the ban. He started smoking at age 24, first with cigarettes and then switched exclusively to cigars. The founder of psychoanalysis argued that this habit, or vice, as he called it, significantly increased his performance and facilitated self-control. It is noteworthy that his example was his father, who was heavy smoker and remained so until the age of 81. In those days, Freud's passion for cigars was shared by many. Before weekly meetings in his house, the maid placed ashtrays on the table, one for each guest. One Wednesday evening, after everyone had left, Martin Freud literally the words felt - no, he rather inhaled it - the atmosphere in the room. “The room was filled with thick smoke, and I wondered how people could stand in it for several hours, let alone talk, without suffocating.” When Freud's nephew Harry was 17 years old, the founder of psychoanalysis offered the young man a cigarette. Harry refused, and his uncle told him: “My boy, smoking is one of the most powerful and cheapest pleasures in life, and if you have decided in advance not to smoke, I feel sorry for you.” Freud could not deprive himself of this sensual pleasure, but for this he had to pay an exorbitant price in the form of pain and suffering. As we know, in 1897 he shared his opinion, never expressed in his articles and books, that bad habits- Freud included the habit of tobacco among them - they serve only as substitutes for “the only real habit, the “primary mania,” masturbation.” However, Sigmund Freud was unable to turn this guess into a decision by quitting smoking.

Freud's irresistible love for cigars testifies to the persistence of primitive oral needs, and his passion for collecting antiquities reveals in his adult life the remnants of no less primitive anal pleasures. What Sigmund Freud once called his own penchant for antiquity was, as he confided to his physician Max Schur, a passion second only to his passion for smoking. The consultation room in which Freud received his patients and the adjacent office gradually became overflowing with oriental rugs, photographs of friends, and decorative plates. The glass bookcases were bursting with books and various souvenirs. The walls were decorated with drawings and engravings. The famous couch was a work of art in itself - high pillows, a blanket at the feet, with which patients covered themselves if they were cold. There was a Shiraz carpet on the floor. But most of all in Freud's workrooms there were sculptures that occupied all free surfaces: they filled the closed rows of bookshelves, the covers of numerous tables and bureaus, and even invaded the impeccable order of the desk - the founder of psychoanalysis admired them when he wrote letters or worked on books.

It was this forest of sculptures that his guests and patients remembered best. Hans Sachs, one of Freud's close friends, remarked on his first visit to the apartment at Berggasse 19 that although the collection was "still in its early stages, certain objects immediately attract the visitor's eye." The Wolf Man, which Freud began psychoanalyzing the following year, also found antiquities fascinating: in his opinion, there was always a sense of sacred peace and quiet in the adjoining consultation room and master's office. It resembled “not a doctor’s waiting room, but rather an archaeologist’s office. There were all kinds of figurines and other unusual objects, which even a layman recognized archaeological finds from Ancient Egypt. On the walls hung decorative stone dishes depicting scenes from bygone eras.”

This abundance was carefully and lovingly collected. Freud was interested in collecting antiquities until the end of his life. When his longtime friend Emanuel Levy, professor of archeology in Rome and then in Vienna, was in the city, he visited Freud and brought him news from the world of antiquities. The founder of psychoanalysis, in turn, was keenly interested in this world when he found time, and followed the excavations with the excitement of a knowledgeable amateur. "I brought great sacrifices“for the sake of collecting Greek, Roman and Egyptian antiquities,” he admitted to Stefan Zweig at the end of his life, “and even read more works on archeology than on psychology.” This is undoubtedly an exaggeration: the focus of Freud's disciplined curiosity was always on the life of the soul, and the lists of books given in his works demonstrate his deep knowledge of specialized literature. However, the founder of psychoanalysis took great pleasure from his figurines and fragments, the first purchases that he could hardly afford, and subsequently the gifts from friends and followers brought to the apartment at Berggasse 19. In his old age, looking around from the comfortable easy chair behind the couch consultation room, Freud could see a large painting of the Egyptian temple at Abu Simbel, a small reproduction of Ingres' painting of Oedipus solving the riddle of the Sphinx, and a plaster copy of the ancient bas-relief, Gradiva. On the opposite wall, above a glass cabinet filled with antiquities, he placed an image of the Sphinx of Giza: another reminder of mysteries—and of the brave conquistadors like himself who solved them.

Such expressed passion requires interpretation, and Freud readily provided it. He told the Wolfman that the psychoanalyst "...like an archaeologist on an excavation site, must uncover the patient's psyche layer by layer before reaching the deepest, most valuable treasures." But this powerful metaphor does not exhaust the meaning of this addiction for Freud. Antiquities gave him obvious visual and tactile pleasure. The founder of psychoanalysis caressed them with his gaze or stroked them while sitting at his desk. Sometimes he would bring a new acquisition into the dining room to get a better look. Besides, they were symbols. They reminded of friends who took the trouble to remember his love for such artifacts, they reminded of the south - of those sunny countries that he had visited, which he hoped to visit, as well as those too distant and unattainable, which he no longer hoped to visit. Like many northerners, from Winckelmann to E.M. Forster, an English novelist who was interested in the inability of people of different social groups understand and accept each other, Freud loved Mediterranean civilization. “I have now decorated my room with plaster casts of Florentine statues,” he wrote to Fliess at the end of 1896. – This was a source of extraordinary renewal for me; I want to get rich so I can repeat such trips.” Like Rome, Freud's collection served as an expression of his obscure desires. “Congress on Italian soil! (Naples, Pompeii),” he exclaimed dreamily after telling Fliess about those very plaster casts.

Even more uncertain was the connection of his antiquities with the lost world to which he and his people, the Jews, could trace their distant roots. In August 1899, Freud informed Fliess from Berchtesgaden that on the next rainy day he would “march” to his beloved Salzburg, where he had recently “unearthed” several Egyptian antiquities. These objects, Freud noted, lift his spirits and “tell him about ancient times and distant countries.” Studying objects dear to his heart, he discovered, as Ferenczi admitted many years later, how a strange secret longing was born in him, perhaps “from my ancient ancestors - for the East and the Mediterranean, for a completely different life: desires from childhood that will never come true and will not adapt to reality.” And it is not at all a coincidence that the person whose life story Freud was interested in and whom, apparently, he envied more than anyone else, was Heinrich Schliemann, the famous archaeologist who discovered the mysterious Troy, shrouded in ancient legends. The founder of psychoanalysis considered Schliemann’s career so outstanding because in the discovery of “Priam’s treasure” he found true happiness: “Happiness exists only as the fulfillment of a child’s dream.” It was precisely this kind of dream that Sigmund Freud believed, in his gloomy mood, that was rarely realized in his own life.

However, as he told the “wolf man,” his undying passion for collecting antiquities became increasingly higher value, became the main metaphor for his life’s work. “Saxa loquuntur! - Freud exclaimed in 1896 in his lecture on the etiology of hysteria. “The stones are talking!” Indeed, they say. At least he heard them. In one emotional letter to Fliess, Freud compared the success he had just achieved in psychoanalysis with the discovery of Troy. With its help, the patient discovered deeply hidden fantasies, “a scene from early childhood (up to 22 months) that met all the requirements and into which all the remaining riddles fit; everything at once, sexy, innocent, natural, etc. I still don’t dare believe it. It’s as if Schliemann had once again excavated Troy, which was considered mythical.” Freud continued to use this metaphor: in the preface to Dora’s case history, he compares the problems arising from “the incompleteness of my analytical results” with the problems of “those researchers who were lucky enough to bring into the light of day priceless, albeit mutilated, remains from centuries-old burials.” antiquities". Freud restored what was missing, and “like a conscientious archaeologist,” he “did not miss the opportunity to show where my construction meets the reliable.” Three decades later in "Cultural Discontent", illustrating " common problem mental preservation,” he used a broad analogy with ancient Rome, which appears to the modern tourist: a series of cities, the remains of which are preserved next to each other or were discovered as a result of archaeological excavations. Thus, Freud's collecting of antiquities combined work and pleasure, childhood desires and sublimations of adulthood. But there was also a hint of painful dependence. There is something poetic about the fact that in the fall of 1902, at the first Wednesday meeting of the Psychological Society, the subject of discussion was the effect of smoking on the psyche.

From the book Notes of a Social Psychopath author Ranevskaya Faina Georgievna

I lived with many theaters, but I never got the pleasure. In the review of the “Domoskovsky” critic, Ranevskaya is described as follows: “A charming, burning brunette, dressed luxuriously and brightly, a thin figure buried in a crinoline and waves of a low-necked dress. She looks like a little girl

From the book Old Age - Ignorance of God author Ranevskaya Faina Georgievna

I lived with many theaters, but never got the pleasure * * *In the review of the “Domoskovsky” critic, Ranevskaya is described as follows: “A charming, fiery brunette, dressed luxuriously and brightly, a thin figure buried in a crinoline and waves of a low-necked dress. She reminds

From the book by Faina Ranevskaya. Pieces of the author's memories

I lived with many theaters, but I never got the pleasure. In the review of the “Domoskovsky” critic, Ranevskaya is described as follows: “A charming, burning brunette, dressed luxuriously and brightly, a thin figure buried in a crinoline and waves of a low-necked dress. She looks like a little one

From the book The Most Spicy Stories and Fantasies of Celebrities. Part 2 by Amills Roser

From the book The Most Spicy Stories and Fantasies of Celebrities. Part 1 by Amills Roser

As little routine as possible, as much pleasure as possible Not all fantasies are erotic, but eroticism always tends towards fantasy, because it is directly related to fantasy and play. I ask you to read this book without prejudice or guilt, because, as Buñuel said,

From the book Lessons of Love. Stories from the life of A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada author Goswami Bhakti Vijnana

I have not had such pleasure for a long time. A true spiritual teacher does not accept blind faith. He tries to awaken the mind in the disciple, testing his faith to the limit, and takes great pleasure when the disciple passes the test. Radha Govinda Swami: At that time I lived

From the book Friends of Vysotsky: a test of loyalty author Sushko Yuri Mikhailovich

“I am not alien to all the pleasures of life...” Of course, he is demonstratively mocking when he says: “I treat myself as a very bad, scary, unpleasant, annoying person, I hate myself, although, of course, I love myself. When I go to the mirror in the morning, I look at myself and think.

Most people use the body as a pleasure machine. Why else maintain life in this body if not for the sake of carnal pleasures? For example, why do most of us need language? To enjoy the taste of food. Genital organs - for pleasant sexual sensations, the highest of which is orgasm. With the help of our eyes, ears, and nose, we also want to see, hear, and smell pleasant things. Whether we are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, civilized or not - as a rule, we try to satisfy the demands of the senses. And the reason for this is the mistaken identification of oneself with the body.

If you think that you are the body, you will try to achieve satisfaction by pleasing the body. You will think: “I am the body and I want to be happy, satisfied.” So you will try to satisfy the stomach, tongue, genitals, ears, eyes, nose, etc., thinking that this will bring you the inner satisfaction and happiness that you crave.

But bodily pleasures do not bring satisfaction. This is another evidence that you are not the body. No matter how much you please your senses, you will still never experience inner satisfaction.

This does not mean that sensual pleasures are bad, and that instead of them one should strive for bodily suffering. Mechanically replacing “plus” with “minus” will not lead to anything good. We simply want to draw attention to the fact that bodily pleasures do not make us happy, and therefore it is foolish to consider them the purpose of life.

Often people try so hard to find happiness in sense objects that they may even try to enjoy through several or all of the senses at once. For example, someone can watch TV and at the same time listen to the radio, chew potato chips, sip beer and smoke a cigarette, and during commercial breaks also leaf through a magazine. We try to fill ourselves with all kinds of sensations, but we are still not satisfied; we are still missing something.

You can eat so much that your stomach hurts, but you still want more. Although the stomach is so full that it causes physical pain, you (your self) are not full, you still want to absorb. The fact that the body can be filled, satisfied, and at the same time you feel emptiness, indicates that you are not the body.

Those who are rich and famous have enough money, power and influence to go anywhere in pursuit of happiness and do almost anything they want. Ordinary people often envy such luxury. Most of the “have-nots” are convinced that those who “have everything” are happy. Therefore, the “have-nots” try in every possible way to become the “haves.”

However, the image of a “happy rich man” formed in the minds of most people is just an illusion. Money can only buy bodily “joys”, not real happiness and satisfaction. This is very convincingly shown by the story of Freddie Prinze, a television star who, in just a few years, rose from the New York ghetto to the bright lights of Hollywood. Prince grew up in New York in a poor Puerto Rican family, but soon after graduating from high school he became a famous comedian. Within a few years, he had his own television show and film contracts worth millions of dollars. Personal chauffeurs drove him around Hollywood in luxurious limousines; he literally had the best that money could buy. But although he could provide his senses with every imaginable pleasure, he felt empty inside himself. In desperation, the Prince asked his manager: “Is there anything more to life than this [wealth, fame, etc.]?” The manager replied: “This is There is life, Freddie. You are a star! Shortly thereafter, the twenty-two-year-old Prince committed suicide by putting a twenty-five-caliber pistol to his temple and pulling the trigger.

History knows many other examples of rich and famous people who, despite exceptional opportunities for sensual pleasures, became so desperate that they committed suicide. More longer list those who ended up in a mental hospital. Indeed, the feeling of frustration, emptiness and purposelessness that haunts the hearts of hundreds of millions of wealthy people is all too familiar in developed Western countries. The vast majority of their inhabitants try hard to please their senses (and have every opportunity to do so), but are nevertheless still unhappy. This is evidenced by the high and constantly growing rates of alcoholism, drug addiction, divorce and suicide.

Thus, even after satisfying all the essential needs of the body and experiencing countless sense pleasures, you will still not be satisfied. The rich hedonists in the Rolling Stones still sing, “I can never get any satisfaction.”

If the body were the person itself, sensual pleasures would bring real satisfaction. If the body were you, by fulfilling the desires of the body, you would be completely satisfied. If the personality, our "I", were material, then we would be satisfied with matter (material pleasure). Hedonistic a lifestyle that would lead to complete satisfaction and happiness, and not to the disappointment, emptiness and loss of meaning in life that we see today in the materially developed countries of the world.

Companion: I agree that sense pleasures and material wealth cannot satisfy the individual. But I'm not sure that people in less developed countries would be able to understand this either.

Teacher: Everyone can understand this, no matter whether they are rich or poor. The poor also learn from their own personal experience that bodily pleasures do not bring them satisfaction. Do you think the poor do not enjoy through their senses? Do you know whether poor people experience pleasure from the taste of food or sexual orgasm? Of course they do. Material wealth in itself is not pleasure. It only provides opportunities for more refined sensual pleasure. For example, for money you can buy a nice apartment with a large, skillfully made bed and silk sheets. Wealth increases the number of consumables available to you. For money you can buy a lot of different food and everything else. But money in itself is not pleasure. “Poor” people also have genitals, a tongue, etc., and they also enjoy food, sex, etc. Perhaps a “poor” person experiences sexual orgasm on a mattress lying on the floor in a mud hut, and a “rich” person experiences sexual orgasm in a luxurious bed in a good apartment. But, essentially, it's still the same feeling. Therefore, both the “rich” and the “poor” can ask themselves the question: “Am I satisfied by having an orgasm?”

Companion: That is, in order to understand that bodily joys will not bring satisfaction, there is no need to become financially secure?

Teacher: Right. To to a certain extent security makes it easier to understand, but is not a necessary condition. Besides, if you look around, you will see that most unhappy rich people do not know why they are unhappy. They still do not know that money and sensual pleasures cannot satisfy them. So, whether people are rich or poor, they need, first of all, education. They need to realize that their own attempts to achieve happiness by pleasing their senses have failed. And you need to see that similar attempts by others have also failed.

Bodily pleasures are like short bursts. They appear and disappear. Before you have time to look back, there is nothing left. That is why hedonists, before they begin to satisfy the desires of the body, try so hard to enjoy anticipation sensual pleasures. They know that as soon as they become immersed in pleasure itself, it will disappear.

Sometimes, trying to achieve success in life, start some kind of new business or business, we run forward, live in the world of our thoughts and plans, in the world of illusions and emotions. But we completely forget about our body, about our physical shell, about the need to experience bodily pleasures and feel this world with our body in the first place.

Many esoteric teachings teach us to immerse ourselves in meditation, to seek truth in other realities, believing in magic and the power of thought.

Our religion elevates the mortification of one's flesh and dislike for one's body to the rank of holiness.

For many, their body is simply a vehicle to get their brain from point A to point B.

But the truth is that without paying due attention to your body and bodily pleasures, without the ability to rejoice and express your bodily matrix, you can hardly talk about any harmonious spiritual and personal development.

Many people live their whole lives inside their heads, don’t love themselves and their bodies, and are always surprised that they make mistakes again and again, although from the point of view of their heads they do everything right. And the truth is very close!

Our body is a highly accurate tool for orientation in this life, a tool for separating truth from lies, our own from someone else’s, promising from meaningless. But whether you know how to use it or not is another question!

Video clips of the seminar (beginning):