Delayed gratification is not a concept that conjures up pleasant images in most people’s minds. I know it’s odd, but the image those words bring up for me is me sitting at the breakfast table as a kid eating all the boring cereal out of my Lucky Charms and saving the marshmallows for last.

It’s not a concept we like much in our culture. We want what we want and we want it now. Want a new TV? Put it on a credit card. Want fresh strawberries in Minnesota in the dead of winter? Sure. Why not?

It’s easy to point out the downsides of an “I want it now” attitude—for example, the credit crisis, foreclosures, the negative environmental impact and the crazy number of hours people have to work to afford that lifestyle. 

Yet, we still persist in our belief that more is better and sooner is even better that that. I think this is because we tend to think that the only upside of delayed gratification is the avoidance of negative consequences. We’d rather just think of a way around the consequences.

But this view of delayed gratification as a hardship is not accurate—spacing out treats can be a path to intensified pleasure. As G.K. Chesterton said, “The real pleasure-seeking is the combination of luxury and austerity in such a way that the luxury can really be felt.”

When we get what we want immediately and frequently, it loses its charm. It removes the fun of anticipation and turns the experience into an unsatisfying fix that leaves us wanting more. It’s a hollow imitation of real enjoyment. It reduces things that were once enjoyable and exciting to the realm of the mundane and monotonous.

When I was a kid we weren’t allowed to have soda very often. In the words of Cookie Monster, it was a “sometimes treat.” My dad watched us two evenings a week while my mom went to her part-time job and once in a while he’d get some root beer and some ice cream and make root beer floats. He’d always tell us, “This is a secret. You can’t tell your mom.” Of course she knew, but it made it more exciting to think that she didn’t.

When I was up at my friend’s cabin we’d spend entire days playing in the woods, hunting for mushrooms or helping her parents with chores. Now and then her mom and dad would let us ride our bikes to a local restaurant and get a soda. After the long bike ride a soda felt like a real reward.

Once I became a teenager and soda became an everyday habit instead of a rare treat it lost its magic. It was no longer special because it was no longer rare.

There’s intensity to the pleasure derived from a thing you enjoy occasionally that isn’t there when you can have it whenever you want. For the last few years, I’ve been making an effort to eat produce only when it’s in-season, and that first taste of real, ripe strawberries or blueberries is like heaven.

Delayed gratification slows us down and helps us appreciate things in a deeper, at once more subtle and more powerful way than is possible with instant gratification. Think of how exciting it is to see a loved one after a long absence or how good it feels to get outside in the sunshine on those first beautiful spring days. Things you may usually take for granted suddenly become objects of great pleasure, and small treats become magnified.

It begins when you start to miss or want the object of your desire. At first it creeps quietly into your thoughts and rolls around in your head in delicious daydreams. The volume begins to heighten and your excitement mounts. Eventually the desire reaches a feverish pitch, a close kin to suffering or deprivation. When at last you are united with your object of desire it is almost a sort of relief.

I have felt that way about everything from peanut butter pie to the birth of my children—waiting for our desires to be fulfilled increases their wonderfulness. And the enjoyment of the experience outlasts the experience itself—talking about a great meal a few days later can bring it alive for you again, as much as anticipation did before you ate.

Is there anything you have had to wait for that was made better by the thrill of anticipation? Is there anything you used to enjoy, but no longer do because it’s always available? Tell us your story in the comments.

(photo by Trinity via flickr)