The Art of Peace 47

The Way of a Warrior is based on humanity, love, and sincerity; the heart of martial valor is true bravery, wisdom, love, and friendship. Emphasis on the physical aspects of warriorship is futile, for the power of the body is always limited. 

Fragments of Parmenides 2

There are the gates of the ways of Night and Day, fitted above with a lintel and below with a threshold of stone. They themselves, high in the air, are closed by mighty doors, and Avenging Justice keeps the keys that fit them. 

Her did the maidens entreat with gentle words and cunningly persuade to unfasten without demur the bolted bars from the gates. 

Then, when the doors were thrown back, they disclosed a wide opening, when their brazen posts fitted with rivets and nails swung back one after the other. 

Straight through them, on the broad way, did the maidens guide the horses and the car, and the goddess greeted me kindly, and took my right hand in hers, and spake to me these words: . . . 

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.19

“Most people would not even allow another point, which rests no less firmly upon strong reasons, namely, that those who do an injury are more unhappy than those who suffer one.”

“I would hear those strong reasons,” I said.

“You do not deny that every wicked man deserves punishment?”

“No.”

“It is plain for many reasons that the wicked are unhappy?”

“Yes.”

“Then you doubt not that those who are worthy of punishment are miserable?”

“No, I agree.”

“If then you were sitting as a judge, upon which would you consider punishment should fall—the man who did the injury, or the man who suffered it?”

“I have no hesitation in saying that I would make amends to the sufferer at the expense of the doer of the injustice.”

“Then the doer of the injustice would seem to you more miserable than the sufferer?”

“That follows.”

—from Book 4, Prose 4

It isn’t just that virtue is its own reward, and that vice is its own punishment.

It isn’t just that a punishment avoided is worse than a punishment received for the vicious man.

It isn’t just that we should be grateful for the opportunity to make the wrong things right.

It will take us so far, that we will also see how the offender is always in a worse place than his victim could ever be.

I have a very fond memory of a fine young lady in one my classes on Boethius, who had lightheartedly promised that she would make a note every time a fellow student rolled his eyes, or sighed, or smirked, or snorted at a certain passage.

We came to precisely this section, and there was predictably much rolling of eyes, sighing, smirking, and snorting. “What’s our count now?”

“Oh, sorry, I lost track somewhere during Book Three. Everyone just kept being angry and feeling insulted.”

I was hardly surprised. I think I felt much the same way when I first read the Consolation, and I assumed that Boethius was deliberately trying to question everything that I held dear.

Well yes, he most certainly was doing that. I somehow felt wronged that the bad guys actually had the worst lives, and the good guys actually had the best lives, instead of it being a perverted reverse. It suddenly sounds quite foolish to see the world working in the exact opposite way that Nature intends, doesn’t it?

It all depends on where we start with our estimation of human nature. Who we are in our essence will, in turn, determine what hurts us and what helps us. Start with the right apprehension, and you will then come to the right conclusions.

Measure a man by what he possesses through fortune, and his life will indeed be a mess. Measure a man by what he possesses through his own nature, and everything is in its rightful place.

What does the vicious man gain by his actions? He gains his property, and his reputation, and his influence, and his immediate pleasures. What does the vicious man lose by his actions? He loses his ability to love, his integrity, his respect, and his very character. He trades the internal for the external.

What does the virtuous man gain by his actions? He gains the merit of knowing who he is, and of living with justice and compassion. What does the virtuous man lose by his actions? He leaves behind his concern for fame, and power, and gratification. He trades the external for the internal.

Ask yourself which path of life you prefer, and you have already determined everything about where you will be going.

Nature remains constant, while Fortune is fickle. Change your priorities, and your whole life will now be flipped, no longer up side down, but right side up.

In the simplest of terms, if I choose an evil, I have freely abandoned myself. If I suffer an evil, I still retain the power to be myself. The vicious man fails to even be a man, while the virtuous man is only given more chances to be a man. The sins of another will take away my circumstances, while the sins of another will destroy his very own soul.

Am I so sure, having thought of it in this way, that I still want to be a liar, or a thief, or an abuser? Will I still, having thought of it in this way, be so hurt when they lie to me, steal from me, or dispose of me like so much garbage?

Who is the real garbage? Who deserves the greater mercy?

Dismiss me, and shrug me off, and tell me that I don’t matter. Who has suffered more, the offender or the victim? The offender, as it turns out, is his own worst victim.

Written in 11/2015

Sayings of Heraclitus 21

All the things we see when awake are death, even as all we see in slumber are sleep.

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 4.4

Suppose that he has lost the status of a citizen; then let him exercise that of a man.

Our reason for magnanimously refusing to confine ourselves within the walls of one city, for having gone forth to enjoy intercourse with all lands and for professing ourselves to be citizens of the world, is that we may thus obtain a wider theater in which to display our virtue.

Is the bench of judges closed to you, are you forbidden to address the people from the hustings, or to be a candidate at elections? Then turn your eyes away from Rome, and see what a wide extent of territory, what a number of nations present themselves before you.

Yes, imagine that they have taken away our property, our right to vote, our freedom to associate with whomever we please, or the chance to speak our minds. Many people would now tell me that we have been denied our very humanity.

I fear that some, the ones who measure themselves by what they receive, may see this as offensive, but our humanity remains completely intact. Only how people treat us has changed, not who we are, or what we decide to do.

And, for that matter, the way they may treat us gives us all the chance to be even more human. Turn the tables on the bullies and the bureaucrats, the petty tyrants and the smug ideologues. Live in precisely the opposite way they ask you to, and you are still as free as you ever were, perhaps better than you ever were.

Stoic Lesson 101 redux: Your dignity is not in what they do to you. It is in what you do.

I have seen the arbitrary, thoughtless, and uncaring ways a system, most any system at all, may try to make someone a slave. There is no mystery about confronting that, because I can actually choose not to be a slave. My mind and will can remain free. I may be hindered in body by chains, or by bleeding for the taxman, or by being shunned in my church, but that doesn’t actually hurt me.

The problem with any system built upon force and threats is that it looks to obeying rules, not to loving people. It looks to an obedience divorced from Nature. It glories in the ideal instead of facing the real. It kills some for the sake of others.

So the Stoic must be cosmopolitan. He treats all with respect, wherever they came from, or whatever they might have. He looks beyond tribes, and he thinks beyond borders. He recognizes what is human in everyone, and denies it to no one.

Unlike what some privileged folks might tell you, you don’t need to move to another country in protest. You don’t need to bask in the glory of your self-righteousness. Have they kicked you out? Then quietly be virtuous in your new home. Have they kept you where you are? Then quietly be virtuous in your old home. It makes no difference. Be kind, loving, and decent, wherever you are, in whatever state you find yourself.

That will only seem ridiculous to me if I have no clue about what constitutes a good life. If I want to be happy, I won’t let the circumstances rule me. Be a man if they won’t let you be a citizen.

Written in 7/2011

IMAGE: Rome, walking the Appian Way

Pieter Bruegel, The Seven Deadly Sins: Wrath

Tidbits from Montaigne 3

In my opinion, every rich man is a miser. 

—Michel de Montaigne, Essays 1.14

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 6.6

Training that is peculiar to the soul consists first of all in seeing that the proofs pertaining to apparent goods as not being real goods are always ready at hand, and likewise those pertaining to apparent evils as not being real evils, and in learning to recognize the things that are truly good and in becoming accustomed to distinguish them from what are not truly good.

In the next place it consists of practice in not avoiding any of the things that only seem evil, and in not pursuing any of the things that only seem good; in shunning by every means those that are truly evil and in pursuing by every means those that are truly good.

In that the soul should have rule over the body, it must also improve its own distinct powers, shaped by its own distinct habits. In this, its judgment can rise above the bewildering stream of impressions and circumstances, discerning the way things truly are, in the confusion of merely how they might seem.

If what is superior has no mastery over itself, it can hardly have any mastery over what is inferior. Consider all the managers who tell you to do what they cannot do, or all the teachers who preach to you what they cannot practice.

It will be no different when we ask people to go into the world, and to take responsibility for themselves, yet we have never really encouraged them to carefully distinguish between right and wrong. Neglect such a training of the mind, and no other skill or habit will be of any use at all.

And we wonder why we have so many headless producers and consumers running about, guided by nothing, satisfied by anything.

Wisdom requires first understanding what the difference is between good and evil, as well as then also understanding by which means to go about pursuing one and avoiding the other. This may not come as easily as I anticipate, because I will always want what I see as beneficial and I will always fly from what I see as harmful, but I will not always be seeing it clearly. Even a fool seeks a good life, though only a wise man knows the good life.

Desires can get it all muddied, fears can get it all tangled up. How I feel at one moment may make it appear bigger than it is, and how I feel at another moment may make it appear smaller than it is.

As Epictetus said, I should demand that the impression stand back for a moment, and not let myself be overpowered by its force. It is not always as beautiful or as ugly as it first seems; I must look within it to know what it truly is in itself, and I must look within myself to know what I am truly called to make of it.

Let me consider all the things I mistakenly took to be good, and let me consider all the things I mistakenly took to be bad. The list could easily fill a big book. That I wanted to do what was right was never in question, yet I got quite befuddled and turned around about the meaning of what was right, or how to get it.

Did I want love? Isn’t love a good thing? Not when I confuse it with lust.

Did I want justice? Isn’t justice a good thing? Not when I confuse it with vengeance.

Did I want happiness? Isn’t happiness a good thing? Not when I confuse it with pleasure, or power, or wealth.

It may sound so simple, and to the cynical or jaded it may sound quite silly, but there is often no better solution to a problem than patiently thinking it through. This isn’t just about aimlessly pondering and scratching my chin; it demands getting to the source of what is good, and this means going back quite a few steps in isolating the most important goal.

I should for example, never assume that whatever feels pleasant is good, or that whatever is convenient is good, or that whatever saves face is good. Before deciding and acting, might I ask myself what I ultimately need in this life, and then if doing this or that will bring me closer to such an end? No calculus, or particle physics, or advanced philosophy is required; only sincerity and humility are required.

If I had done that, I would not have fallen in love with a player. Without question, I would not have looked the other way while my friends suffered. Immediately, I would have been willing to give more than I was given.

I have now seen it dozens and dozens of times, when I sit down with an addict, and I plead with him not to use, just for today:

“Think of what you will gain, and what you will lose, and balance that in your head. That means coming to terms with what is worth gaining, and what is worth losing, because our old habits have a way of messing with our priorities. None of us can recover from what ails us, whatever it may be, without being brutally honest about what matters the most.”

On some days, a person saves himself for that day. On a few other days, a person has a deeper insight about a greater sense of direction. Rarely, but quite joyfully, one will see a person turning his entire life around.

The proximate only falls into place through an awareness of the ultimate. What seems only makes sense through what is real. I can’t just say, “This is good!” without staring the good straight in the face, without returning to the beginning.

Written in 7/1999

Dhammapada 73

Let the fool wish for a false reputation, for precedence among the Bhikshus, for lordship in the convents, for worship among other people! 

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 115

Give yourself more diligently to reflection. Know yourself. Take counsel with the Godhead: without God put your hand unto nothing! 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 4.3

He is not able to serve in the army? Then let him become a candidate for civic honors.

Must he live in a private station? Then let him be an advocate.

Is he condemned to keep silence? Then let him help his countrymen with silent counsel.

Is it dangerous for him even to enter the forum? Then let him prove himself a good comrade, a faithful friend, a sober guest in people's houses, at public shows, and at wine-parties.

You see, I was never any good at doing what most people think of as important. I never had the knack for it, and I never had the will for it. I am not cut from the right cloth for any of that. There were times when I was impressed by the consequences of fame and power, but I am now grateful, in hindsight, that I never had to carry that burden.

I will repeatedly say that Stoicism was not something that I just liked; it was rather something that I needed. I needed it precisely to learn the true measure of happiness, to look to the character within me instead of the circumstances outside me. If I had been given all the gifts of a sharp mind, or a chiseled chin, or a sweet tongue, I would most likely have become a scoundrel, having never been challenged to find any deeper meaning.

I am not quite a scoundrel, though I am still often a rather foolish fellow. I will still fall for so many of the old tricks. I will still be tempted, against my better judgment, to desire some special place in the order of things.

Special? In what way? There’s the rub. Know what can make you special, and that will be your salvation. Perhaps you were not made to be a soldier. Perhaps you were not made to be a politician. Perhaps you were not even made to be anyone with a name, or a title, or a position of importance.

Maybe you were just made to be a thoughtful and loving person. The world has too few of those people. You are now better than any king.

I am at first discouraged by Seneca’s insistence on being someone in public life, and then I realize what he actually means by being someone in public life. He tells me I should not retreat from a sense of service, and I frown at him, having tried so hard to be of service.

But what does it mean to be of service? I need to stop running away from other people, just because I haven’t had my way. Service is giving, even when nothing is offered in return. Service is caring, even when no one notices you. Service is love, even when you find that you are not loved one bit.

And service remains my completion. A man is the sum of what he is willing to give, whatever he may receive from others. Be kind, be caring, be a friend. I have now done my work.

As I now grow older, and the vain dreams of my youth fade away, I will punch the clock, I will play along with the game, and I will break my back to make someone else rich. I have learned, in the hard way, to no longer worry about any of that. There is only one thing I have left, but it is no small thing. It is the dignity of my character.

On most any day, I am treated like a fool, and perhaps I deserve it. On most any day, I am either mocked or neglected, and I don’t know which is preferable. On most any day, I am a nobody, and nobody would notice if I was suddenly gone.

Yet on any day, on every day, I can still act with wisdom and virtue. Even in the smallest way, I can offer love. Did you not notice it? No matter. It was still given.

There, my friends, is true public service. This is how I can prove myself.

Written in 7/2011

Aesop's Fables 15

The Hares and the Frogs

The Hares were so persecuted by the other beasts, they did not know where to go. As soon as they saw a single animal approach them, off they used to run. 

One day they saw a troop of wild Horses stampeding about, and in quite a panic all the Hares scuttled off to a lake hard by, determined to drown themselves rather than live in such a continual state of fear. 

But just as they got near the bank of the lake, a troop of Frogs, frightened in their turn by the approach of the Hares, scuttled off, and jumped into the water. 

"Truly," said one of the Hares, "things are not so bad as they seem;

"There is always someone worse off than yourself."

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 6.5

Now there are two kinds of training, one which is appropriate for the soul alone, and the other which is common to both soul and body. We use the training common to both when we discipline ourselves to cold, heat, thirst, hunger, meager rations, hard beds, avoidance of pleasures, and patience under suffering.

For by these things and others like them the body is strengthened and becomes capable of enduring hardship, sturdy and ready for any task; the soul too is strengthened since it is trained for courage by patience under hardship and for self-control by abstinence from pleasures.

Far too often they tell my to fix my head, or to fix my body, but they will rarely tell me to improve both together.

I once had a coach who told me that the way to run my best mile was just to constantly run; he never once suggested how my thinking could help me to do that.

I once had a confessor who told that the way to avoid lust was just to think about pure thoughts; he never once suggested how taming my own passions could help me to do that.

I have also had doctors of both sorts. Some insist that I must eat well, or take a brisk walk every day, or consume my pills as prescribed, and then everything will be fine. Others insist that I will be cured by having a better attitude, or by looking at the bright side, or by wishing wellness for myself. Both are right broadly, while both are also wrong narrowly. I will rarely find anyone telling me to do both.

For all the ways we publicly preach a holistic sense of the person, we are still remarkably dualist in our attitudes. Put the mind over here, and put the body over there. It took me many years to bring them together, having somehow forgotten that they were made to be as one.

When working in social services, I have seen two major school of how to deal with addicts. One crowd says they are ready for further treatment only when they have an awareness of hitting rock bottom, of knowing the waste in their lives. The other crowd says they are ready for further treatment only when they have gone through a sufficient detox, when the drugs have been flushed from their systems.

I found myself confused. “Don’t they need both before they can get better?”

“Don’t be an idiot. We get them into rehab however we can. We fill the beds.”

“Do we help them in rehab if they aren’t ready?”

“Shut up and process the files.”

The virtue of temperance, of a mastery over my desires, is a perfect example of this struggle. I can make all sorts of decisions about putting my life back into my own control, but that alone doesn’t work. I can also physically steel myself to temptations, but that alone doesn’t work. No, the former must rule the latter. The change comes from all of it, not from a part of it.

A discipline of both mind and body are necessary to tame the beast. Stop thinking filthy thoughts, and at the same time stop being affected by filthy things. Mental habits are joined to physical habits.

The virtue of fortitude, of a mastery over my own fear, is a very close second. I can be quite brave in my intentions, but that alone doesn’t work. I can also physically make myself strong, but that alone doesn’t work. No, the former must rule the latter. The change comes from all of it, not from a part of it.

A discipline of both mind and body are necessary to no longer be a coward. Stop thinking about the weight of the hurt, and at the same time stop feeling the hurt to begin with. Mental habits are joined to physical habits.

Even the virtues of prudence and justice require the value of action to go with the value of principle. There will no understanding without a discipline of the senses. There will be no fairness without a discipline of the hands. Mental habits require physical habits.

Our family regularly jokes about our “First World problems”, yet it is hardly a joke. How often has my mind given way to a hardship, simply because my body is not accustomed to the suffering? How often have the habits of my soul been weakened by the habits of my flesh?

“I’m starving!” No, I am not starving at all. I may feel hunger, but I am not starving.

“I’m dying of thirst!” No, I am not dying of thirst. I may feel thirsty, but I am not dying.

“I can’t resist her!” Of course I can resist her. I may feel longing, but I still have my judgment.

Train the body to bear something, and this will help the mind and the will to bear something. Is it hot? Is it cold? First accustom the hands to both fire and ice, and the soul will find it so much easier.

Written in 7/1999

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 3.7

Of hiding our grace under the guard of humility
 

1. "My Son, it is better and safer for you to hide the grace of devotion, and not to lift yourself up on high, nor to speak much thereof, nor to value it greatly; but rather to despise yourself, and to fear as though this grace were given to one unworthy thereof. Nor must you depend too much upon this feeling, for it can very quickly be turned into its opposite. Think when you are in a state of grace how miserable and poor you are wont to be without grace. Nor is there advance in spiritual life in this alone, that you have the grace of consolation, but that you humbly and unselfishly and patiently take the withdrawal thereof; so that you cease not from the exercise of prayer, nor suffer your other common duties to be in anywise neglected; rather do your task more readily, as though you had gained more strength and knowledge; and do not altogether neglect yourself because of the dearth and anxiety of spirit which you feel.

2. "For there are many who, when things have not gone prosperous with them, become forthwith impatient or slothful. For the way of a man is not in himself, but it is God's to give and to console, when He will, and as much as He will, and whom He will, as it shall please Him, and no further. Some who were presumptuous because of the grace of devotion within them, have destroyed themselves, because they would do more than they were able, not considering the measure of their own littleness, but rather following the impulse of the heart than the judgment of the reason. And because they presumed beyond what was well-pleasing unto God, therefore they quickly lost grace. They became poor and were left vile, who had built for themselves their nest in heaven; so that being humbled and stricken with poverty, they might learn not to fly with their own wings, but to put their trust under My feathers. They who are as yet new and unskilled in the way of the Lord, unless they rule themselves after the counsel of the wise, may easily be deceived and led away.

3. "But if they wish to follow their own fancies rather than trust the experience of others, the result will be very dangerous to them if they still refuse to be drawn away from their own notion. Those who are wise in their own conceits, seldom patiently endure to be ruled by others. It is better to have a small portion of wisdom with humility, and a slender understanding, than great treasures of sciences with vain self-esteem. It is better for you to have less than much of what may make you proud. He does not very discreetly who gives up himself entirely to joy, forgetting his former helplessness and the chaste fear of the Lord, which fears to lose the grace offered. Nor is he very wise, after a manly sort, who in time of adversity, or any trouble whatsoever, bears himself too despairingly, and feels concerning Me less trustfully than he ought.

4. "He who in time of peace wills to be oversecure shall be often found in time of war overdispirited and full of fears. If you knew always how to continue humble and moderate in yourself, and to guide and rule your own spirit well, you would not so quickly fall into danger and mischief. It is good counsel that when fervor of spirit is kindled, you should meditate how it will be with you when the light is taken away. Which when it does happen, remember that still the light may return again, which I have taken away for a time for a warning to you, and also for mine own glory. Such a trial is often more useful than if you had always things prosperous according to your own will.

5. "For merits are not to be reckoned by this, that a man has many visions or consolations, or that he is skilled in the Scriptures, or that he is placed in a high situation; but that he is grounded upon true humility and filled with divine charity, that he always purely and uprightly seeks the honor of God, that he sets not by himself, but unfeignedly despises himself, and even rejoices to be despised and humbled by others more than to be honored."

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 4.2

This is what I think ought to be done by virtue and by one who practices virtue: if Fortune gets the upper hand and deprives him of the power of action, let him not straightway turn his back to the enemy, throw away his arms, and run away seeking for a hiding-place, as if there were any place where Fortune could not pursue him, but let him be more sparing in his acceptance of public office, and after due deliberation discover some means by which he can be of use to the state.

I think I see why Seneca has concerns about what Athenodorus has said, and how this might keep Serenus from becoming his best. Even the slightest hint of hesitation can be a terrible temptation. Running away is so easy, and sticking to your guns is so hard. I sadly know how many times I have made excuses to retreat instead of engage.

What Seneca says seems quite mundane at first glance, but it reveals itself as quite radical when I look more closely. Of course I will try, and try again and again, if the public life doesn’t go my way at first.

Did I make an unpopular choice? Then all I must do is gradually alter my platform to meet with the current trends.

Did I offer a promise I never kept? Then all I must do is to redefine the terms, and make it appear that I did exactly what I said I would do.

Did I get myself caught up in a scandal? Then all I must do is to give a tearful confession, and swear my newfound loyalty to the platitudes of the day.

But no, that is not what Seneca means at all when it comes to living a good public life. He wants me to do what is right, not what is expedient. He actually has the nerve to ask me to attend to my control over myself, not to seeking control over others.

The man is an outright revolutionary, because you will notice that he first asks you to be a good man. How frustrating it is to be called out in that way! He has no interest in how rich you are, or how much influence you have, or how many votes you can buy. He actually demands virtue.

I can turn my back on the supposed friends who betray me, and I can tell all sorts of fancy lies to make myself look better. That’s all smoke and mirrors.

The Stoic believes that virtue is the highest human good, and so his way of managing the vice that opposes him is only to increase his virtue. No, he doesn’t turn away from obstacles; he makes himself better through the obstacles.

Feelings are powerful, while thoughts can rise above feelings, and have the greatest power of all. Did he throw you to the wolves? Then tame yourself. Did she break your heart? Then love her all the more.

To find opposition is never a reason to give up. It doesn’t matter if I can or cannot change the world, because that is not within my power. It does matter if I can change myself, because that is always within my power.

Written in 7/2011

A Knight, Death, and the Devil

Albrecht Dürer, A Knight, Death, and the Devil (1513)

Stoic Snippets 7

Yes, you can—if you do everything as if it were the last thing you were doing in your life, and stop being aimless, stop letting your emotions override what your mind tells you, stop being hypocritical, self-centered, irritable.  

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 2.5

Stoic Conversations 27

"You're being too stubborn, you need to compromise! It'll get you unemployed, sick, homeless, maybe in prison, maybe even dead."

"Yes, it may well still."

"That doesn't scare you?"

"It scares the crap out of me. I wouldn't choose that at all."

"Then let some things go. Pick the battles that will work out for you the best. Compromise to make your life easier."

"Yes, you're right about letting some things go. I need to let go of the things that I prefer. But I can't let go of the things that are right."

"Why make a difference? Do what works for you!"

"Yes. What works. What is easier. What is the best. Are those all the same?"

"Yes, of course."

"And that is where we must respectfully part ways. What would you compromise, and for the sake of what?"

"I don't even know what you mean."

"I'm sorry that you don't. I'll gladly compromise what I'd like done, but I won't compromise what needs to be done."

Hans Holbein, The Dance of Death 5: A Cemetery

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.18

“When I hear your arguments, I feel sure that they are true as possible. But if I turn to human opinions, I ask what man would not think them not only incredible, but even unthinkable?”

“Yes,” she said, “for men cannot raise to the transparent light of truth their eyes which have been accustomed to darkness. They are like those birds whose sight is clear at night, but blinded by daylight. So long as they look not upon the true course of Nature, but upon their own feelings, they think that the freedom of passion and the impunity of crime are happy things.

“Think upon the sacred ordinances of Eternal Law. If your mind is fashioned after better things, there is no need of a judge to award a prize; you have added yourself to the number of the more excellent. If your mind sinks to worse things, seek no avenger from without; you have thrust yourself downward to lower things.

“It is as though you were looking at the squalid earth and the heavens in turn; then take away all that is about you, and by the power of sight, you will seem to be in the midst now of mud, now of stars.

“But mankind looks not to such things. What then shall we do? Shall we join ourselves to those whom we have shown to be as beasts? If a man lost utterly his sight, and even forgot that he had ever seen, so that he thought he lacked nothing of human perfection, should we think that such a blind one can see as we do?”

—from Book 4, Prose 4

Won’t people start thinking that I am confused and disturbed if I speak of such things, and won’t they laugh and walk away from me if I actually try to live according to these principles? Very many of them most certainly will; they already look at me funny whenever my conscience happens to even slightly stray from what is popular.

It can be deeply uncomfortable to go against the grain, to strike out on my own. This is only compounded by a shameful sense of snobbery and elitism for dismissing what the majority would wish of me. Who am I to say that I know better? Aren’t many heads together better than one?

I can just remind myself that I should not worry about contradicting certain opinions, though I should worry about contradicting Nature, for these two are not always in agreement. It need not be about me believing that I am better, but it can be about me struggling to become better. It isn’t arrogant to seek the best path, nor is it dismissive to be wary of bad advice.

Instead of looking for a conflict between the many and the few, I should focus on the distinction between the true and false. Whether it is the majority or the minority who manage to get it right, I should not confuse what is good with any degree of approval from others. By all means listen to the wise man, but not just to any man, or to the loudest man, or to the most esteemed man.

There is a perfectly good reason why the crowd is so easily prone to error, and it arises from the default position of human nature. In the order of things, a man is born with the power to understand, but he is not born with the content of understanding. He must acquire his understanding through experience and reasoning, and this will demand an active effort from him. To think without reflection, to choose without sound judgment, or to act without commitment will be remarkably easy; to do nothing at all, to go with flow, will be the simplest solution.

This is what many of us will do, as I have done far too often. It will be hard for us to find our own way. Virtue will require sweat, and blood, and sacrifice. It will mean putting ourselves in places that are not comfortable, when we would rather bask in comfort. Yet complacency asks only the ease of surrender, not the struggle for victory.

And so we give way, instead of finding our way. We swim with the current, instead of swimming for shore. We conform to expectations, instead of expecting anything of ourselves.

I was born to be a good man, yet I wasn’t already born as a good man; I was given a potency to actualize. Now let us be honest: how many people will rise to that challenge?

So God made us all to succeed, even as many of us will freely decide to fail, simply by doing nothing at all but going through the motions.

As in Plato’s Cave, many prefer the darkness to the light. When shown the light, they squint, and they squirm, and they want nothing of it. Impressions and passions rule them, so they are certain there can be nothing more to life. They call themselves free, while they choose to become slaves to the objects of their desires.

Yet if I only know myself rightly, I will see that virtue is its own reward, and vice is its own punishment. Will they laugh at me for saying that? Yes, but they don’t know any better. Now should I hate them and cast them away, or should I love them and offer my help?

A blurred, distorted, or blinded sense of vision is a fitting analogy for a blurred, distorted, or blinded sense of reason. When my eyes are weak, I will not be able to see what is in front of me. When my mind is weak, I will not be able to grasp who I ought to be.

Will I be a man or a beast? Will I be looking at the mud or at the stars? Sadly, many will turn away, and my own sloth will ask me to follow them. I can still love without being a pushover; I can still fulfill myself without leaving them behind.

Popular? Maybe, or maybe not. Decent? Absolutely.  

Written in 11/2015

Vanitas 6

Clara Peeters, A Vanitas Portrait of a Lady (c. 1620)

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 8

59. Objects fall away from the abstinent man, leaving the longing behind. But his longing also ceases, who sees the Supreme.

60. The turbulent senses, O son of Kunti, do violently snatch away the mind of even a wise man, striving after perfection.

61. The steadfast, having controlled them all, sits focused on Me as the Supreme. His wisdom is steady, whose senses are under control. 

62. Thinking of objects, attachment to them is formed in a man. From attachment longing, and from longing anger grows.

63. From anger comes delusion, and from delusion loss of memory. From loss of memory comes the ruin of discrimination, and from the ruin of discrimination he perishes. 

64. But the self-controlled man, moving among objects with senses under restraint, and free from attraction and aversion, attains to tranquillity.

65. In tranquillity, all sorrow is destroyed. For the intellect of him who is tranquil-minded, is soon established in firmness.

66. No knowledge of the Self has the unsteady. Nor has he meditation. To the unmeditative there is no peace. And how can one without peace have happiness?

67. For, the mind which follows in the wake of the wandering senses, carries away his discrimination, as a wind carries away from its course a boat on the waters.

68. Therefore, O mighty-armed, his knowledge is steady, whose senses are completely restrained from their objects.

69. That which is night to all beings, in that the self-controlled man wakes. That in which all beings wake, is night to the Self-seeing Muni. 

70. As into the ocean—brimful, and still—flow the waters, even so the Muni into whom enter all desires, he, and not the desirer of desires, attains to peace.

71. That man who lives devoid of longing, abandoning all desires, without the sense of 'I' and 'mine,' he attains to peace.

72. This is to have one's being in Brahman, O son of Prithâ. None, attaining to this, becomes deluded. Being established therein, even at the end of life, a man attains to oneness with Brahman.

—Bhagavad Gita, 2:59-72