Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.12

But what does he gain by so doing if he does not escape from himself? He follows himself and weighs himself down by his own most burdensome companionship. We must understand, therefore, that what we suffer from is not the fault of the places but of ourselves. We are weak when there is anything to be endured, and cannot support either labor or pleasure, either one's own business or anyone else's for long.

This has driven some men to death, because by frequently altering their purpose they were always brought back to the same point, and had left themselves no room for anything new. They had become sick of life and of the world itself, and as all indulgences palled upon them they began to ask themselves the question, "How long are we to go on doing the same thing?"

There have been times when a change of circumstance has done me a world of good, but only when it was first inspired by a change of attitude. Simply moving away, or finding new work, or seeking out new friends, in and of itself, was never a cure. Learning to love wherever I was, or whatever I happened to be doing, or whoever I found myself with was the only cure. Something new on the outside was only helpful after it followed something new on the inside.

Without a transformation in my own thinking, no other remedy is of any use. The measure of the man is not in what happens to him, but in what he does, regardless of what happens to him. This is the very ethical foundation of Stoicism.

Do the conditions of time, and space, and situation make a difference? Yes, though only in how they are employed. I must ask just one question here: will it help me grow into becoming a better man, or will it drag me down into becoming a worse man?

“I can no longer bear it!” Why do I think that? Do I still live and breathe? Do I still have the freedom of my own mind and will? If so, then I can bear it. My power to know and to love is still absolutely my own. If it actually becomes unbearable, I will either die, or I will lose the very awareness that informs my human life. Either way, I will find relief.

The constant desire to experience something new can all too easily be an excuse for running away. By all means, I can leave behind a broken heart, a social shame, or a professional disappointment. Yet when the appearance of all that is beyond my sight, I still have to gaze upon myself. No, the problem didn’t go away because I found some new diversions; the problem stayed right there, as much as I may have run.

“I’m in a new relationship now, and I have a new job, and I’m working out every day, and I feel so much better!”

Then why do you still cry, or drink, or pace up and down when you get home, when no one else is watching? No person can love another, and no person can do good work, and no person can be healthy at all, if he doesn’t first love himself, understand himself, or attend to the health of his soul.

What was always bothering me so much? It was the absence of a conscience, of a moral compass. Running away from that emptiness, I always ended up exactly where I started; it is impossible to run away from oneself.

Written in 5/2011