. . . Give yourself to me, therefore,
as a gift of great price, and, that you may strive the more, reflect that you
yourself are mortal, and that I am old. Hasten to find me, but hasten to
find yourself first.
Make progress, and, before all else,
endeavor to be consistent with yourself. And when you would find out
whether you have accomplished anything, consider whether you desire the same
things today that you desired yesterday.
A shifting of the will indicates that
the mind is at sea, heading in various directions, according to the course of
the wind. But that which is settled and solid does not wander from its
place. . . .
—Seneca
the Younger, Moral Letters to Lucilius 35,
tr Gummere
The gift
of friendship is the most precious thing that anyone can ever give. At the risk
of being a curmudgeon, I have wept at the new trend in the last decade of
simply giving presents of cash. Money is nothing in the grand scheme of things.
It is entirely impersonal and lifeless. Thinking and living like a Stoic, I
should not even desire “things” at all, and even less so an artificial construct used to acquire things. I should desire to love. I should care for the things
people give me not because they are things, but because of the love that was in
the giving of those things.
Give of
yourself. Some of us will surely understand that the greatest gifts are those
that come simply from thought and concern. I was once handed a bunch of
dandelions plucked from a backyard by a friend’s young daughter, and it was one
of the kindest gifts I ever received.
Remember
that we are all only here for a brief time, and we must never waste that time.
The Stoic must think always as if this is his last day, even his last minute,
on this earth, not as an exercise in morbidity, but as an exercise in
constancy. If you care for another, tell that person right now, and act upon
it, and don’t wait until tomorrow. To know that I am mortal, and that I must
die, is hardly a downer. It’s a call to action.
To be
constant in life, to keep one’s eye on the same goal however tossed and turned
we may be by our circumstances, is the sign of a good man, and of a good
friend. A good man does not change his tune when things go poorly, and a good
friend does not simply move on out of utility.
I no
longer believe people who say that they used to love someone, but now no longer
do so. If love, in the sense of genuine friendship and not merely affection or
desire, is to have any meaning, the second part of the statement already
disproves the first. A friend who cannot be constant in loyalty was never even
a friend to begin with.
I must
always remind myself to stay the course. Anything less is a betrayal of myself,
for whom I am exclusively responsible, and of others, to whom I am asked by
Nature to offer my care, concern, and commitment.
Written in 9/1999
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