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Monday, October 21, 2019

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.1

Chapter 1

Serenus:

When I examine myself, Seneca, some vices appear on the surface, and so that I can lay my hands upon them, while others are less distinct and harder to reach, and some are not always present, but recur at intervals: and these I should call the most troublesome, being like a roving enemy that assails one when he sees his opportunity, and who will neither let one stand on one's guard as in war, nor yet take one's rest without fear as in peace.

My surface vices have usually been quite clear to me. I can see them for what they are, though I will sometimes foolishly choose to ignore them. If I have let my attention wane, my error quickly becomes apparent, sometimes even at the very moment I am acting, and I know exactly what I need to do to correct those habits. I will have to decide to apply that understanding, of course, and be more vigilant the next time, but I am aware, however shamefully, of both the ailment and the remedy.

If I have lost my temper, or told a lie to avoid an inconvenience, or looked away from the suffering of a neighbor, there is no question about how I was wrong, and what I must do to make it right.

Then there are the deeper vices, more subtle and nagging. I don’t see them coming, I can’t fully explain where they came from, and I can’t seem to put them in their place. This is surely because I find it so difficult to even identify them to begin with.

I can sense that there is something wrong in my thinking and doing, yet I can’t seem to look at it directly; it sits there in the corner of my vision, as if it were trying to hide from me.

I know that this is not about the things that happen to me, whether they are pleasant or unpleasant, but about how I am responding to those things, whether I am acting well or poorly. It is frustrating to not be as aware of myself as I think I am, and confusing when my intentions fall short. I then find myself discouraged, and my anxiety only compounds my sadness and uncertainty.

What am I getting wrong? What am I missing? How can I improve myself when I don’t know where the problem is?

I appreciate the image of trying to stand guard against a clever and unseen enemy. When I was a Scout, we would often play games of late-night capture the flag. The trick was always stealth in those games, of course, and the hardest job to be given was guarding your own flag.

All my other teammates would be well ahead in the woods, and I would crouch there in absolute silence, knowing full well that opposing players were all around me, but I could neither see nor hear them.

What was that? Did I hear the cracking of a branch? I look to my left, and I think I discern some motion in the blackness. Then there is a rushing to my right. The flag has been pulled from the tree, and there is the rapid sound of someone running away. I try to follow before he makes it to the line. If I stop to listen, he will make his escape, but if I don’t stop to listen, I don’t know in which direction to go.

So I am playing a sort of late-night capture the flag in my own head.

Written in 4/2011

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