A few posts back I started talking about the distinction between reward and pleasure. BORING.
I heard that, or rather sensed the disruption in the force. Truth is, words and assumptions get all snarled up together. Result? That crazy tangled web Shakespeare mentioned in a sonnet, or a play, can’t remember which.
Pleasure is not reward and reward is not pleasure, although both of them smush together a lot. Both feel good. And I love to feel good. Oh, you too? Okay then, we are on the same page.
The big deal between pleasure and reward? Lasting impact. In my not so humble opinion. Both are positive, good results. No problem with pleasure or reward. That warm fuzzy that fills your brain when you smell your favorite perfume, being snuggy after a hot bath while you listen to great music, relishing the quiet after a busy day.
Or for extroverts in the world, that wonderful camaraderie surrounded by a dozen of your best friends, watching your favorite team win the Super Bowl. Sitting in the stands at NASCAR, whooping with everyone as the cars scream past you. Great conversations going on around you at a fun party, where everyone is laughing, as you bring in more food and drinks.
Pleasure. Pure and simple. Good. And it’s fantastic while it happens.
Reward? It is rewarding to feel that sensation, while it lasts. But simple pleasure is momentary. It dissipates, fading to a pleasant memory.
The thing we call reward has much longer threads, more legs to journey into the future. Reward is something earned, a return on action. I must do something to achieve it. The crazy thing about it? Reward causes me to feel good about myself. I did something that rewarded me with the pleasure of my own company. And I want to feel good about myself much more than enjoy a fleeting moment of a-a-a-h-h.
Pleasure occurs. Reward results.
Why in the world am I talking about this? Rhetorical question, but a good one.
My grandkids. The three older ones perch in mid-teen years, and our conversations tell me they have the tiniest sense of self-awareness. And of course, like any good grandma, I want them strong in who they really are, what they are and how to achieve their own sense of value.
Yeah, the let-me-leave-a-legacy thing. Which is a reward I want. And a pleasure to see it begin at the incremental level. ( I do so love big honkin’ words. As if you didn’t know.)
This whole reward thing came about when I began developing a character for a manuscript. He needed depth, pathos, resolution in the middle of a run of the mill mystery adventure. Wound up scraping the story, but kept the character because he became more fun as he dug into what made him feel good about himself as opposed to what made him feel good. It turned the story into something stronger and I realized this element of reward versus pleasure worked in real people too. Especially me.
When I find an acorn in the forest, I tell absolutely everyone. Ad nauseam.
The cool thing is, when I say Pleasure? Reward? to one grandchild, he raises an eyebrow. The other two, not so sure they get it. Yet.
But I will keep talking, ‘cause I am the grandma.