Defeating Lust

How does one get over lust, that urge which pushes you to release sexual energy in ways you may not prefer, such as masturbation?

First, understand this: sexual energy is simply creative energy. It is an inherent potential within you, the power to create. When this energy is not directed elsewhere, it naturally seeks the path of least resistance, which biologically is the creation of a child. Of course, in the case of masturbation, no child is created; the potential is simply discharged.

There is no easy way to “get over” it, because the route this energy takes is the easiest available to you. Energy always flows through the channel with least resistance.

The pleasure and satisfaction felt in orgasm are not unique in nature. The same essence of joy is experienced when you create something that reflects an aspect of yourself, a project, a book, a vision, or even the person you aspire to become.

If today you conduct your life in alignment with who you truly are, completing your tasks, fulfilling your goals, acting with integrity, that too is creation. And that creation carries a pleasure of the same fundamental nature.

The question, then, is not how to suppress the energy, but how to redirect it.

When we were children, how creative we were. We painted, built crafts, imagined worlds. I remember shows like MAD, Art Room, Engineer This, Bob the Builder, Kiteretsu (the anime about a child inventor constantly creating new things) and many more. Those were my favorites.

But why are such shows mostly oriented toward children? Why are there so few for adults?

Because creative energy is naturally heightened in childhood. At that stage, it has no other dominant channel through which to flow. One does not yet indulge in sexual activity, so the energy expresses itself in imagination, invention, drawing, building, questioning.

As we grow older, the same energy finds an easier biological outlet.

If you observe closely, many of the great original thinkers, inventors, and philosophers were either unmarried or lived lives of extreme restraint. Nikola Tesla, Isaac Newton, Leonardo da Vinci, Immanuel Kant, and many others.

There were also figures like Henry Cavendish, known for the discovery of hydrogen and for measuring the Earth’s density, and Robert Boyle, who established the relationship between pressure and volume of gases. Even the great original philosophers like Nagarjuna, Abhinavagupta, and Shankara were among them.

Why is this pattern seen so often?

Because their creative energy was gathered, directed, invested fully into their work, into building something, or into building themselves.

The same energy that can dissipate through indulgence can also crystallize into genius.

Another example is Vācaspati Miśra of Mithila, who lived around 9th–10th century CE. He was a master philosopher who reshaped and deepened existing philosophies such as Nyāya and Sāṅkhya through his powerful commentaries.

His most influential work, Bhāmatī, is a commentary on Śaṅkara’s Brahma Sūtra Bhāṣya. In it, he transformed Śaṅkara’s often terse and aphoristic arguments into a rigorous, structured philosophical system. He offered a more detailed psychological and epistemological analysis of how ignorance (avidyā) operates within the individual. Drawing from Nyāya, he strengthened Advaita Vedanta’s analytical precision and logical clarity.

Because of him, an entire sub-school of Advaita Vedanta emerged — the Bhāmatī school.

Bhāmatī was the name of his wife. So yes, he was married. But tradition tells a moving story: absorbed in scriptural commentary for years, he remained so immersed in study that he scarcely even knew he was married.

Once, late at night, as he was writing, the oil in his lamp ran out and the flame died. His devoted wife quietly came and refilled the lamp, lighting it again. In that moment, he looked up and asked, “Who are you?” She replied gently, “I am your wife.”

Overcome, he said, “I am sorry. I have given you nothing. I have not given you the love a husband ought to give, the love you truly deserved. Tell me, how can I correct my mistake? Free me from this burden of guilt. Ask me, what do you wish of me?”

She said, “If you’re so pleased with me, then give me a child, a sign of our love, a mark of our marriage, something that will be remembered.”

He replied, “At this age, I cannot give you a child. But I will name this commentary after you. This is my child. This work shall be the sign of my love for you, and it will be remembered for ages.”

And so, the commentary was named Bhāmatī.

(Bhāmatī means “she who illuminates the mind.” She illuminated the lamp, and symbolically, she illuminated the mind that would illuminate generations.)

Marriage, however, was considered a necessary stage of life. In ancient India, almost everyone was expected to marry and produce offspring. It was believed to be the greatest service one could offer to one’s ancestors.

For this reason, many original thinkers and sages of ancient India were married. Yet they continued to follow brahmacharya. Sexual activity was largely restrained to the purpose of childbirth, and there were many days in the month when intercourse was forbidden.

These days were usually dedicated to spiritual practice. The understanding was simple: if creative energy is constantly drained, how will you, through sādhanā, create a higher version of yourself, or the life you truly seek?

Thus, during sacred days, retreats, and periods of intensified practice, indulgence was strictly avoided.

Any man who indulges excessively in sex can never create something of real depth or meaning. He may imitate or steal from others, history may not expose him, but originality, in its truest sense, will remain beyond his reach.

So what should one do? Redirect this creative energy.

Work relentlessly. Create constantly. From the moment you open your eyes until the moment you close them, work. Produce something meaningful, something with depth. Devote your waking hours to creation. Exhaust yourself.

Live in such a way that when you finally lie down on your bed, you feel as though you are dead; completely spent.

Remain immersed in creation. Channel your energy into building, writing, studying, training, serving. Even friendships, relationships, travel, and lived experiences can become avenues of creative expression.

If your creative energy is fully engaged in shaping something real and worthwhile, you will naturally find little desire left for mere biological indulgence.