Seneca, On Peace of Mind 8.6

Since we, however, have not such strength of mind as this, we ought at any rate to diminish the extent of our property, in order to be less exposed to the assaults of fortune.

Those men whose bodies can be within the shelter of their armor, are more fitted for war than those whose huge size everywhere extends beyond it, and exposes them to wounds.

The best amount of property to have is that which is enough to keep us from poverty, and which yet is not far removed from it.

The dark and cynical side of me (not the bright and Cynic side, mind you) snorts when I hear the rich and powerful telling us how they just can’t help being rich and powerful, and that we should have a deep sympathy for their plight.

Yet I am questioning their motives, when I should really be questioning my own. Are their intentions pure, when they say that they are playing the cards that Fate dealt them, or are my intentions pure, when I am secretly jealous that I didn’t get those same cards?

Perhaps some of them do indeed possess the sincerity and character to see their lives as guided by responsibility, not by entitlement. I would be well advised to follow such an example.

Both Seneca and Serenus are men whom Providence gave the circumstances of great wealth, and I take them at their word, that they did not take this state of affairs lightly. Others are instead given the circumstances of poverty. Neither are to a man’s blame or credit, though what he chooses to make of those conditions will most certainly be to his blame or credit. Stoicism, I must remember, does not measure a man by what he has, but by what he does.

Even if I were to be given worldly prosperity, however, I would have to be very careful about how much I would decide to take. How much is enough? The general Stoic answer, of course, is to accept whatever may help me be the best man I can be, whether I have more or less, but there is also the inherent danger of overreaching. I have very rarely asked too little for myself, but I have quite often asked for far too much.

Enough, in such a case where I might have my preference, is to have what meets my immediate needs, whatever they may be, and nothing beyond that. Give me anything additional, and the temptation will be to expand the scope of my body’s reach, at the expense of my soul’s integrity.

I enjoy Seneca’s image of becoming too fat for one’s armor, and I imagine a chubby legionnaire who has consumed too much bread and wine vainly trying to hunker down behind the protection of his scutum. The danger of being injured or killed comes from having made too much of oneself, of inflating a sense of self-importance beyond what is natural.

Want for little, and little can be taken. Ask for an excess, and everything can too easily be lost. Once security depends upon anything outside the circle of the soul’s virtues, I am at the mercy of all those slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Written in 9/2011