Seneca, On Peace of Mind, Introduction

I had long been drawn to Stoicism as a solution for so many of my problems, yet I would still find myself falling short, when it came to applying all of that wonderful theory to the grind of everyday practice. Even if I thought I understood what it was that I had to do to be happy, I was clearly not living up to the standard.

Where was the problem? Were the principles themselves somehow terribly mistaken, or was I somehow using them incorrectly?

I was often told that if I only put my mind to it, I would be able to make what I eventually came to call the Stoic Turn.

I would hopefully begin to no longer consider myself ruled by my circumstances, but I would begin to define myself by the content of my character.

I would hopefully no longer look to the world to satisfy me, but I would learn to be satisfied with myself, whatever may happen in the world.

I would hopefully stop demanding, and I would start giving.

I would hopefully measure my merit by what I did, not by what had been done to me.

I would hopefully no longer be a victim, but a source of what was right and good, however small and insignificant I was thought to be by others.

I would hopefully not think of the world as a place of random and uncaring events, with no one occurrence connected to another, but as all events created by Providence to be opportunities.

I was deeply disappointed when this did not suddenly happen overnight, and I was therefore also deeply discouraged. Surely, I thought, if my thinking is right, will my actions also not be immediately be right?

Maybe this was just another one of those clever intellectual scams, a way to make me follow a system that actually offered no actual results. I’d seen enough of that before, from deeply subtle superstitions to complex pseudo-scientific theories of human nature. Was I letting myself be duped again? Was someone going to creep out of the corner and suddenly demands various dues or fees to magically complete my training?

But see, it isn’t just about being a member of a club, or about the power of my will; it is about using my choice to make a genuine connection between my thinking and my doing.

First, my doing will only be as good as the certainty of my thinking, and there I can find much work to be done. I may say I know, but I know far too incompletely. What is hazy must become crystal clear.

Second, my doing will only be as good as the strength of the habits I gradually build up for myself, and there too I can find much work to be done. I may say I am doing, but I have not yet done nearly enough. I must learn to be patient not only with the world, but also with myself.

Third, I will still be drawn away from the truth each and every day, if I do not recommit myself each and every day. A promise made yesterday, or even a few moments ago, is sadly often a promise only for yesterday, or for a few moments ago. The only way keep myself from being diverted is to keep myself on track, at all times and in every way.

I learned the very same lesson from a variety of 12 Step Programs I have encountered over the years, on both the giving and receiving ends.

Let me say that I want to stop drinking, or using drugs, or gambling, or being promiscuous, or living like a glutton, or buying things I don’t really need. Wanting a change won’t be enough, since I must put my money where my mouth is. The words are pointless if I can’t commit to the program.

Seneca the Younger wrote very many texts on Stoic topics, far more of which have survived to the current day, I suspect, than those of any other Classical Stoic writer.

I have listened to him tell me, over and over again, what it is that most matters in this life. I am deeply grateful for that. He reminds me about what it means to be human, about how my humanity fits in with the rest of the Universe, and why I should bother to care about some things over other things.

Still, I always felt I needed quite a bit of help on following through, on making the concepts meaningful in my day-to-day living.

That is where this short and humble text comes in, hardly one of the most impressive or imposing pieces of his writings, though for me one of the most immediately useful.

On Peace of Mind helps me to engage in the task, instead of just being a pretender. It is full of practical advice on how to live like a good man, not just spend my time posturing as a good man.

The translation I use here is the classic version from Aubrey Stewart, with a few of my own minor alterations to make it more presentable to the modern reader. I offer my own thoughts on the text, not to tell the reader how to live, but to encourage the reader to learn to live for himself.

Peace of mind is not only in the abstraction, but is about the harmony of the mind with our own deeds. It means making a connection between theory and practice.

Seneca’s friend, Serenus, asks a most troubling question: why am I still struggling, discouraged, dissatisfied, and confused, even when I have a grasp of what is right and true? What is holding me back? I am still amazed and inspired by the responses that Seneca gives him.