The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Seneca on the Friendship of Kindred Minds 3



. . . 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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