The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.7


When I return from seeing it I am a sadder, though not a worse man, I cannot walk amid my own paltry possessions with so lofty a step as before, and silently there steals over me a feeling of vexation, and a doubt whether that way of life may not be better than mine. None of these things alter my principles, yet all of them disturb me.

The other day, I made another one of my foolish mistakes, the kind that always comes back to bite me in the rear. In a sour mood, I decided to read through the alumni class notes from my old school. Then I stewed over it all, wondering if it was too late to get a bottle of whiskey down the street.

“Well, now I know for sure that you are deeply bitter and unhinged! How could that be a foolish thing? Are you so self-absorbed as to not care what your old friends are doing?”

Perhaps you are right, but I do care, perhaps too much, and also in entirely the wrong way. What others are up to isn’t the problem; how I choose to face it within myself is the problem.

Remember, for example, never to look up your lost love on the Web. She may have done nothing wrong, but you are likely to take it all wrong. Just avoid the temptation to begin with.

As can so easily be the case, I allowed my thinking to get away from me, and my feelings quickly followed. Every single entry I read was about worldly successes. The jealousy and resentment began to creep in. They were clearly superior, and I was clearly inferior, or so my own doubts told me.

“Sandra and I are terribly busy. I’m always flying off to China to negotiate new deals for the firm, and she’s occupied with managing the art gallery. Still, even after running the Global Warming Awareness fundraiser, we find time to spend time with our two newly adopted children from Zaire, and we try to take a breather fixing up our vacation house on Martha’s Vineyard. Life is so good to us!”

Am I angry that they are happy? Not at all. I don’t even know if they are happy, just that they are telling us they are living the high life, and there is a part of the problem. Everything they describe is about the trappings. We are all so caught up in the appearances, in giving the right impression.

Am I jealous that I think they have more than I do? Yes, actually, that’s precisely the problem, as ashamed as I am to admit it. As usual, the problem comes right back to my own judgment. Why does any of that impress me? Do I really want to live that way? Am I that shallow?

Like Serenus, I try to hold to my principles, the ones about living with love and understanding above anything else, and yet I somehow let this frustrate me. I know exactly what it means to be a better man, and yet my worries are gnawing away at the edges.

Written in 4/2011

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