All Higher Aesthetics Feel Like Self-Inflicted Struggle

I often wonder why every aesthetic “upgrade” feels like making things hard for myself.

Reading obscure books isn’t as easy as watching TikTok; looking at abstract exhibitions isn’t necessarily more fun than a variety show.

But the strange thing is, once you truly “get into” reading or “get into” watching, the slow-emerging understanding and resonance brings a deeper kind of joy, a pleasure supported not by stimulation, but by comprehension.

This made me realize: the “struggle” of aesthetic growth might not be some noble suffering, but just a natural reaction of the human perceptual system.

I.

Some people receive a good aesthetic education from a young age and can easily enjoy the pleasure brought by complex art.

But for most people, facing abstract paintings, classical music, or philosophy books, the initial experience is often just “I don’t get it” or “I’m not interested.”

This “struggle” isn’t a failure of education, but an inevitable result of our cognitive mechanisms.

When we face unfamiliar forms and symbols, the brain needs time to reorganize meaning and realign its rhythm.

That period of confusion, alienation, and even boredom is precisely when perception is growing.

It’s like gasping for air in the first few kilometers of a run; it doesn’t mean the exercise is pointless.

That discomfort is just the body adapting to a new intensity;

And the “struggle” of aesthetics is the mind adapting to a new complexity.

II.

Many people think “boredom” means it’s time to give up.

But I prefer to see it as a “tuning” phase

Attention has been aroused, but the meaning-system hasn’t caught up, so perception falls into a brief “silent period.”

During this time, you might find the work uninteresting, or feel out of place, but if you just stay with it a little longer,

Maybe a certain detail, a piece of melody, or an emotion will suddenly resonate with you.

“Boredom” isn’t the end point; it’s the prelude to resonance that hasn’t happened yet.

A true aesthetic experience isn’t always about immediate pleasure;

It’s more like a delayed gratification, it requires a bit of time, patience, and even solitude.

III.

I don’t think an “aesthetic upgrade” means moving from “low-brow tastes” to “high-brow tastes.”

To me, it’s more like an expansion of perception.

When you can appreciate the complexity of Bach but also enjoy the ease of background music,

When you can immerse yourself in the restraint of a black-and-white film but also laugh out loud at a comedy show

That means your sensory system is broader, more flexible, and more resilient.

This “upgrade” isn’t a vertical climb, but a horizontal expansion;

It gives us more dimensions through which to understand the world.

It’s not because one kind of beauty is “nobler,” but because you can find beauty in more places.

IV.

Sometimes, after a long, busy day, the most healing thing isn’t a museum exhibition or a long novel,

But a few short videos or a couple of brainless variety show episodes.

That simple, direct, effortless joy is also a form of psychological repair.

Aesthetics should never become mental shackles.

Truly mature aesthetics isn’t about rejecting simple pleasures, but about being able to switch freely between the profound and the lighthearted.

Being able to read Dostoevsky and also scroll through TikTok, without feeling any contradiction

This is the true freedom of perception.

V.

Aesthetic growth isn’t a straight, upward curve; it’s a journey of swinging back and forth.

There is struggle and joy, boredom and resonance, ambiguity and clarity.

We don’t try to understand art just to pursue what is “advanced,”

We do it to allow ourselves to feel a more diverse range of beauty,

To let our perception become deeper, broader, and softer.

True maturity isn’t logical perfection, but the ability to live at ease amidst contradiction and ambiguity.