Boethius, The Consolation 3.2

“When a man would sow in virgin soil,

 first he clears away the bushes,

cuts the brambles and the ferns,

that the corn-goddess may go forth laden with her new fruit.

The honey, that the bee has toiled to give us,

is sweeter when the mouth has tasted bitter things.

The stars shine with more pleasing grace

when a storm has ceased to roar and pour down rain.

After the morning star has dispersed the shades of night,

the day in all its beauty drives its rosy chariot forth.

So you have looked upon false happiness first.

Now draw your neck from under her yoke:

so shall true happiness now come into your soul.”

—from Book 3, Poem 1

When I was younger, many of my elders told me that good things never came easy, and that they may well take some time. I would sometimes resent this, because I was already a part of a generation that sought instant gratification. If anything was ever worth working for, the trend was that money and influence were the only helpful tools for the gratification we craved.

We not only want what we think is good right now, but we are confused about what is good to begin with. Perhaps thinking this way is a very part of the process, where we have to struggle with getting it wrong before we can come to the peace of what is right. The problem, of course, is actually moving beyond the confusion to the clarity.

I can certainly think of many ways that a genuine reward was all the more fulfilling because of, and in contrast to, the grief and toil that preceded it. It took the disappointment of false friendship to appreciate true friendship, the illusion of learning for vanity to discover learning for character, or all the trappings and diversions of false success to recognize that true success in life is something very different than I had thought it to be.

There will be no reaping if I don’t do any sowing. I will not become better if I do not learn from my mistakes. I will never become blessed without first having an experience of what is wretched.

Just as we often want our senses immediately satisfied, we will also want our minds to be immediately filled with all of the answers. When we don’t get it right away, we lose interest, and assume it isn’t worth our time. It doesn’t occur to us that finding something worthwhile often demands patience, and we might have to travel a ways to get to our destination. There are many steps along the way.

When people hear that I have a background in philosophy, they will often ask me profound questions, sometimes just to have a bit of fun, but sometimes out of genuine curiosity. I will pull my best Socrates, and ask them to clarify their definitions, work from what they already know to some insight on what thy don’t know, and break down a vague sense of the whole to a precise understanding of the parts.

They usually dislike this and turn to something else fairly quickly, because what they wanted was just an answer, not the actual working toward an answer. It doesn’t necessarily occur to them that the answer only is an answer through an explanation of the reasons why it is true. This will not come to us right away, but involves a long-term commitment. There can be no conclusion without the effort of reasoning.

Finding a life of happiness is one part of that continuing effort, perhaps the single most important part, because happiness seems to be what we all want, what we were all made for. But what is it exactly? Should I not ask very carefully what is good and bad in life, and why that must be so? What do different kinds of people say about this, and how can looking at that help us toward the truth?

Here is the clearing of the field, and the planting of the seed, before we can enjoy the harvest. 

Written in 9/2015