“ ‘If Plenty with overflowing horn
scatters her wealth abroad, abundantly,
as in the storm-tossed sea the sand is
cast around,
or so beyond all measure as the stars
shine forth
upon the studded sky in cloudless
nights;
though she never stays her hand,
yet will the race of men still weep and
wail.
Though God accepts their prayers freely
and gives gold with ungrudging hand,
and decks with honors those who deserve
them,
yet when they are gotten, these gifts
seem naught.
Wild greed swallows what it has sought,
and still gapes wide for more.
What bit or bridle will hold within its
course this headlong lust,
when, whetted by abundance of rich
gifts,
the thirst for possession burns?
Never call we that man rich who is ever
trembling in haste
and groaning for that he thinks he
lacks.’ “
—from
Book 2, Poem 2
Pleasure,
wealth, and fame, all the things we look to Fortune to provide for us, have an
odd way of never being enough. We wish to acquire them, but we are then still
in a state of longing when they are acquired. We are willing to sacrifice
everything we have for some of it, and then take out a loan to get some more.
Fortune
has cleverly reminded Boethius of something deeply contradictory in our
thinking and living. We complain when her benefits are lacking, but we will
complain just as much when her benefits are present.
If it’s
all so wonderful to begin with, why is it never satisfying? Why does the bar
for satisfaction only get higher and higher?
It makes
me shudder to think of it, but there is a certain similarity between the addict
who can never have enough of his poison of choice, and the grasping man who can
never have enough of his worldly gain. Whatever he may want will never fulfill
him, because what he wants has nothing to do with his happiness to begin with.
Anything
that completes my being should, by definition, leave nothing else to be
desired. A seeking for what is good will rightly terminate in possessing what
is good. If my goal is in itself unreachable, I have set myself the wrong goal.
Even as
I probably spend my time thinking about things too much, or perhaps too
carelessly, I always keep a few pithy phrases at hand to reach for when I find
myself dazed and confused. One of these is that I have known some happy people
who happen to be rich, but I have never known anyone to be happy because he is
rich.
Experience
has confirmed that for me year after year, time and time again.
Now
that, quite understandably, rubs people the wrong way. “Imagine what I could do
with a few thousand extra dollars,” says a poor man. “My life would be so much
better!” Given him his few thousand, and he will next want a hundred thousand,
or a million, or many millions.
Now he
is a rich man, wanting to be richer. There is no limit to greed, because greed
is always about wanting what I don’t already have. Bliss is always just over
the horizon.
I have
had two distinct moments in my own life, for example, when I was in a state of
desperate financial want. There was no money in the accounts, and bills were
not going to get paid. I cried and moaned, but my want was actually not a need.
I was never hungry, I was never without a roof over my head or clothes on my
back, and, most importantly, I was never denied the chance to be a decent
person.
On both
occasions, I promised myself, and swore to the highest heavens, that if it all
worked out, I would never complain about my situation, ever again.
And I
lied to myself, because as soon as the circumstances improved, I set my eyes on
some other vain achievement. The promise was completely ignored. In the
immortal words of Tom Lehrer:
More, more, I’m still not
satisfied!
The
problem is not that I’m failing to get what I want. The problem is that I’m
failing to want the right things.
Written in 7/2015
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