Real Peace Begins After the Pain You Decided to Face (Endorphin Philosophy for Real Life)

This is Part 3 of the Endorphin Addiction Theory series. Here, we move from theory to life: how the endorphin model shapes everyday routines, and what kind of mindset local business owners need to survive with it. (If you haven’t read Parts 1 and 2, recommend starting there.)

1. Why Anna Lembke’s Seesaw Model Fails: Some Seesaws Are Already Broken

Dr. Anna Lembke’s model is simple: Pleasure and pain sit on a seesaw. When pleasure gets too high, even small discomfort feels unbearable. So we chase more pleasure. To reset the balance, she recommends small, voluntary discomfort. It’s a kind of modern Stoicism. Endure a little pain now, so you can enjoy normal life again. This is the mindset of a slave who has failed to transcend the compulsive loop of pleasure-seeking.

In contrast, there are countless examples of people pursuing true comfort through daily rituals. As I discussed in before, many people don’t run from pain. They actively seek it.

Runners chasing runner’s high.
People with eating disorders.
Ascetic monks.
Cold-plunge addicts.
Sauna obsessives.

These are not just stories. Research links these behaviors directly to endorphin release. For them, pain isn’t the price of pleasure. Pain is the only gateway to calm.

They aren’t tempted by small pleasures. They tolerate burning heat because they know what comes after. This means that pain and pleasure can be integrated depending on external circumstances or one’s physical and mental state. This is what I’ve called the 1% Pain Rule of endorphin addiction.

Now think about this: Giving an anorexic patient cookies and chocolate to “rebalance the seesaw” completely misses how their reward system actually works. In Lembke’s framework, people who reject pleasure and pursue pain look “broken.”

But here’s the subjective truth: That moment after brutal labor, when you finally sip a glass of neat scotch. The same drink that tastes harsh at noon suddenly feels soft and healing. That crossing point — where pain turns into comfort — that is the true origin of the endorphin philosophy.

My point is : It’s not just about resetting the seesaw of pleasure through pain; it’s about actively pursuing it to transcend to a higher level of existence.

Unlike Dr. Lembke suggests, the strategy of settling for minor pleasures through abstinence is superficial and unnatural; it is bound to tip back toward even greater hedonism at any moment. I believe pain and pleasure cannot be split as cleanly as good and evil. Instead, we must bombard this ‘fake world’—which constantly tries to conceal suffering—by producing and sharing the religious and mythical wisdom that actively pursues pain and sublimates it into the very meaning of life. Truth is always hidden in what the world tries to veil, and that pursuit brings a sense of profound spiritual immersion and fulfillment.

2. Lembke’s Recovery Model Feels Like a Confession Booth with Cameras

After abstinence, Lembke proposes a second step: Group confession. Attend AA. Confess to therapists. Reset your brain through accountability and shame-free disclosure. As a foreigner, this shocked me. It reminded me of Korea’s historical Five-Household Surveillance System, where neighbors monitored each other for ideological crimes. If one failed, all were punished. What I saw in recovery groups felt like a soft version of that.

Michel Foucault called this structure the Panopticon: no visible guard, just the constant possibility of being watched — so people discipline themselves. Members wear similar clothes. They follow ritual speech patterns. Breaking rules leads to subtle shaming.

One man drank low-alcohol beer. He panicked. Confessed in tears. The group forgave him. It looked less like healing and more like a Catholic confession booth. Is this what “healthy guilt” means? To me, it felt like coercive guilt. Democratic, Moral pressure disguised as recovery.

When discipline comes from surveillance, it isn’t self-control. It’s outsourced control. And outsourced discipline doesn’t last. People either escape the system or burn it down. People desire freedom over heteronomously controlled abstinence; they want to be agents of their own lives, even if that path leads to death.

So why is this model accepted? Because pain is defined as bad. Pleasure as good. Then everything is forced into that moral box. But sensory reality doesn’t work like that. Pain becomes pleasure. Pleasure becomes exhaustion. And for some people, only pain can unlock calm. This is a philosophy of consciously seeking out 1% of pain, discomfort, and difficulty — and savoring the sense of achievement, ease, and relief that follows. That’s what the endorphin model explains.

3. Pain and Pleasure Are Not Fixed — They Are Rebuilt by Life, Body, and Choice

(1) Pain and Pleasure Are Rewritten by the Life-World

Dr. Lembke talks about homeostasis — the brain constantly rebalancing pain and pleasure. She still treats pain and pleasure as two separate forces, pulling against each other on a scale. She implicitly assumes that pain is bad and pleasure is good. But there’s a problem. The baseline itself — what we even call pain or pleasure — is constantly reshaped by the life-world we live in.

Let me give you a personal example. In my early twenties, I spent ten weeks in military boot camp. No TV. No internet. No smartphones. No decent food. Just fifty men eating and sleeping in one giant room. After ten weeks, I finally watched television again. And the news — yes, the news — felt thrilling. Back in college, the 9 p.m. news was boring. In boot camp, it felt like entertainment.

That excitement was dopamine — produced by deprivation. And naturally, it faded with time. This implies that the ‘reset’ of the dopamine seesaw taught by Dr. Lembke is inherently short-lived. Much like the fleeting thrill of checking the news after a long break, it inevitably fades into boredom over time. Ultimately, this approach does nothing but turn individuals back into slaves of stimulation.

After experiencing the fleeting thrill of TV only for it to turn bland again, television itself lost all appeal to me. It became utterly meaningless. Instead, I found a deeper sense of significance in the ‘tedious’ act of reading paper newspapers and books. This led me to spend my late nights in the military library, immersed in reading. The books I devoured then—such as The Story of Art, The Chronicles of Narnia, and Das Kapital—continue to serve as a profound source of inspiration for my blog today. Which means the boundary between pleasure and suffering is far more artificial than we like to believe. On the contrary, boredom and pain can forge a much deeper sense of significance on an existential level.

(2) Pain and Pleasure Are Rewritten by the Body

There’s a famous Korean Buddhist story about Master Wonhyo. One night, dying of thirst, he drank water in the dark and thought it was divine nectar. In the morning, he realized he had drunk rainwater from a human skull. That shock triggered his awakening. Food works the same way. When you’re starving, plain rice feels miraculous. When you’re full, even gourmet food feels dull.

Your body is constantly redesigning what pain and pleasure mean.

(3) Pain and Pleasure Are Rewritten by Conscious Choice

Ever seen a wealthy guy in a plain T-shirt, quietly carving wood in a workshop? He could buy any luxury. But he chooses manual craft. Why? Because he’s creating 1% hardship — just enough resistance to feel alive, but not enough to break himself.

Endorphin addiction isn’t about extreme suffering. It’s about chosen difficulty. Difficulty you control. Difficulty that gives you agency. After long shifts at my shop, I’m often exhausted. Sometimes I want to collapse into YouTube and disappear. But when I force myself to write, something shifts. Resistance turns into focus. Fatigue turns into immersion. That transition — from friction to flow — that’s an endorphin moment. When struggle is tied to meaning, it stops being pain. It becomes effort you willingly accept.

4. How to Live the Endorphin Life (1): Plant a New Seesaw Where Only 1% Pain Exists

Then how do we design a life — and a business — where discomfort turns into something we can live with?

Let me start with a story from the Taoist classic Zhuangzi.

A hat merchant from the Song Kingdom traveled south to sell hats in Yue. But in Yue, people shaved their heads and tattooed their faces. No one needed hats. So the merchant gave up and left.

This story is usually told as: “Don’t cling to outdated assumptions. Adapt to new times.”

But I read it differently. When your life-world changes, what once symbolized dignity, success, or normal life can lose all meaning. If wearing a hat no longer makes sense, you don’t just drop the hat. You leave the land where hats matter. If your current life is ruled by:

social expectations
financial anxiety
the pressure to maintain a “respectable lifestyle”

and you find yourself chasing pleasure just to survive the stress, then the problem isn’t your self-control. It’s your environment. When you are trapped in a rigidly structured life, it can be nearly impossible to shift your perspective from within. In such cases, you must force a change in your external environment. By migrating into a new world, what you once perceived as tedious and painful can be reinterpreted as the very process of discovering a new meaning in life.

You don’t need a stronger will. You need new ground. Plant a new seesaw in a different place. In the desert, you don’t need Netflix. You don’t need a smartphone. A short talk with a stranger or a sip of cool water when you’re thirsty, feels more real than any artificial high.

In Dopamine Nation, Dr. Lembke admits she became addicted to romance novels because of stress. But what if the solution wasn’t abstinence—but escape? What if she had left the pressure of elite institutions, abandoned the need to maintain a “successful life,” and stepped into a world where survival itself creates meaning? Meeting real people. Working to get through the day. Feeling real exhaustion instead of imaginary excitement. That kind of life generates deeper peace than any fictional pleasure loop.

This is why I believe: Small business owners, freelancers, and craftspeople are often freer than academics, bureaucrats, or politicians. Zhuangzi admired people who could leave. Their survival wasn’t tied to institutions or status networks. It was tied to their own hands and skills. So they could replant their seesaw anywhere. If we cannot break free, our minds and bodies become slaves to stronger stimuli and pleasures.

5. How to Live the Endorphin Life (2): 1% Pain Builds Flow, Achievement, and Self-Efficacy

The “1% pain” I’m talking about is:

manageable
self-chosen
something you can overcome

I used to hate exercise. But I still do it. Why? Because the hot bath afterward feels incredible. Because sweat clears mental noise. Because physical pain flushes emotional fatigue. That relief? That’s endorphin. If you haven’t tried it, try this: Move your body. Let the discomfort pass. Notice the calm that follows.

Same thing mentally. Solving a problem you chose— writing, building a model kit, fixing something broken—creates deep immersion. Not because it’s easy, but because you overcome it.

Studying physics randomly might feel like torture. But assembling something with your hands? That builds self-efficacy — the belief that: “I can handle things.” And that belief is addictive in a good way. This is why intrinsic effort lasts longer than:

punishment
guilt
surveillance
external pressure

Endorphin is the feeling of a tired but proud night. If dopamine gives spikes of thrill, endorphin gives layers of peace.

6. Comparison: Dopamine Nation vs. Endorphin Life

(1) Pain and Pleasure Are Not Fixed Opposites

Dr. Lembke assumes pain and pleasure sit on opposite ends of a scale. But in reality, they are constantly rebuilt by three forces:

Environment (life-world)
Body (physical state)
Consciousness (meaning and intention)

Pain and pleasure are not absolute. They are contextual. They shift as your life shifts. That’s why a model based on fixed opposition fails.

(2) Summary Table — Two Survival Styles

Category	Dopamine-Oriented Life	Endorphin-Oriented Life
Stimulation Cycle	Reward → Repetition → Escalation → Burnout	1% Pain → Immersion → Achievement → Routine
Emotional Flow	Anticipation → Disappointment → Anxiety	Resistance → Overcoming → Relief
Recovery Method	Abstinence, surveillance, external control	Voluntary routine, self-direction
Motivation Source	External rewards	Self-efficacy
Long-Term Sustainability	Low	High

Dopamine systems burn hot and collapse fast. Endorphin systems grow quiet and last long.

7. Real-Life Endorphin Practices

(1) Dr. Lembke’s Overlooked Case: Dr. Muhammad

Ironically, Dopamine Nation itself contains one of the best examples of an endorphin-based life. But Dr. Lembke never frames it that way. Muhammad, a physician, had fallen into drug addiction. Instead of joining support groups or entering accountability systems, he changed something far more fundamental. He changed his life-world. He left. He traveled. No meetings. No confession circles. No social surveillance. During his journey, he discovered a quiet joy: filming beetles. Not thrilling. Not exciting. Slow. Precise. Fragile.

To capture a good shot, he had to wait. The beetle might fly away. The focus might fail. The light might be wrong. Again and again, he missed the moment. But then—once in a while—everything aligned. Timing. Light. Stillness. And in that moment, he entered a different world. That is what it means to plant your seesaw in new soil. Muhammad didn’t replace addiction with a stronger pleasure. He replaced it with a gentler rhythm. He wasn’t chasing higher highs. He was building deeper calm after small effort. Through repetition, patience, and fragile success, he reconstructed his sense of self. That would not have happened without the pain of addiction. His suffering didn’t just disappear. It became the gateway into a slower, more sustainable life. Pain wasn’t erased. It was transformed.

(2) The Joy of Endorphin-Driven Immersion

Earlier, I mentioned writing late into the night even when I’m exhausted. Let’s dig into why that works. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi defines flow as a state where:

you’re fully immersed
self-consciousness disappears
time feels distorted

He says flow requires:

a moderately difficult challenge
real-time feedback
intrinsic motivation

I agree. But he missed something important. Not all flow is healthy. Binge-watching Netflix is also a form of flow. You lose track of time. You feel absorbed. But you are not in control. The algorithm is. After hours of watching, you don’t feel proud. You feel drained. And worse—your tolerance rises. Now only stronger stimulation can hold you. That’s dopamine flow.

Writing, on the other hand, is endorphin flow. It’s slow. Uncertain. A little uncomfortable. You hesitate. You wonder if anyone will care. But you write anyway. You’re not chasing a reward. You’re building a rhythm. Even if the work is imperfect, the process itself feels meaningful—because it’s yours. That final click—“Post.” That’s not just satisfaction. That’s proof: “I made something real.”

Even if only a few people read it. Even if just one person listens. That’s enough. The experience of creating something while battling boredom and exhaustion leads to a state of profound flow. (And it’s cost-effective! Haha)

8. Conclusion

The harsher life becomes, the less we can survive on compulsive pleasure. What we need instead are small, repeatable immersions. Not hobbies. Real Anchors.

Even if you think you have no skills: You could teach basic language in a country that needs it. You could tweak your cooking with AI and feel genuine pride when customers say, “Hey, that’s better than last time.” You don’t need to escape pain. You need to relocate it into something you choose, something small, something you can overcome. That’s how you plant a new seesaw. Endorphin life doesn’t require:

talent
capital
status

It requires one task. Chosen by you. Difficult enough to matter. Gentle enough to survive. When you finish it, you feel: relief. quiet pride. real calm. That calm lasts longer than dopamine highs ever will.

Small business owners may lack prestige. But they carry something far more powerful: embodied survival skills. And those skills travel. They can start again. And again. And again. That is the real freedom of the endorphin life.

“Real peace begins after the pain you decided to face.”

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