Reflections

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Sunday, May 31, 2020

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.7


And I might mention many other men who have experienced insult, some wronged by word, others by violence and bodily harm, who do not appear to have defended their rights against their assailants nor to have proceeded against them in any other way, but very meekly bore their wrong.

If you are interested in hearing about those who have only made a grand show of not being offended, I certainly can’t provide you with that; that sort of display would defeat the whole purpose of bearing wrong, and would instead turn it into an exercise of seeming the victim.

As much as I might try to lie to myself, I know my own worst motives all too well. Why am I drawing attention to myself? Is it really about being better, or even about being a witness to what is better, or is it just about appearing better to everyone else?

The intention makes so much of a difference.

I could, however, tell you about a boy I knew in Cub Scouts, who liked collecting and drying flowers, and accordingly found himself ridiculed at every turn. He never complained or cursed back. He would also offer kind words to people, precisely when no one else was looking.

I sadly do not know what became of him, and I have even forgotten his name.

I could tell you about another fellow I taught with in the early years, who was committed to having his middle school students learn about Euclid’s Elements. Some of the children did not like the difficulty involved in these lessons, especially the loud and spoiled ones, and before I knew it all the complaints from irate parents had gotten him demoted to a desk job.

I eventually told him that I felt guilty for not supporting him more, and I will never forget the generous way he shook his head and smiled. “Hey, I did what I thought was right, and they did what they thought was right.”

I could finally tell you about one of the janitors at a local church, a burly and jovial man who made it a point to bring a cup of hot coffee and a fresh donut to absolutely anyone who walked up to the rectory door. The parish council did not approve, since they claimed it attracted that undesirable element of poor and homeless folks.

After having worked there for a decade, the pastor fired him. The last time I saw him, he winked at me. “I’ve never known a man to be worse from a good cup of coffee!”

I often think of something my father told me long ago, that “tolerating” doesn’t mean stubbornly or begrudgingly putting up with something we don’t like, but that it means taking the weight of others upon ourselves, to literally bear or carry them. He knew his Latin, so I could hardly object.

“He ain’t heavy. He’s my brother.”

Your own mileage may certainly vary, but my father also reminded me that this was exactly what Christ did when he was burdened by hauling his own Cross.

Some would insist that turning the other cheek is a sign of weakness, of not standing up for what we want.

Perhaps it could also be a sign of strength, of caring with such depth that we can find meaning in how we accept the wrongs of others for ourselves, of finding a way to transform that hatred into love.

Perhaps by trying to be the best that we can be, we can also inspire others to be the best that they can be.

Dictionaries may define Stoicism as being unemotional, and they may define meekness as being submissive. That is unfortunate.

Written in 10/1999


Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 15


And in very truth in this species of virtue and in dignity he surpassed all mankind, yes, and in happiness; for he was ninety-eight when he died and had enjoyed good health without an ailment to the last. 

Persaeus, however, in his ethical lectures makes him die at the age of seventy-two, having come to Athens at the age of twenty-two. But Apollonius says that he presided over the school for fifty-eight years. 

The manner of his death was as follows. As he was leaving the school he tripped and fell, breaking a toe. Striking the ground with his fist, he quoted the line from the Niobe: 

I come, I come, why do you call for me? 

and died on the spot through holding his breath. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.28

 

Saturday, May 30, 2020

Stoic Snippets 26


Recall to your mind this conclusion, that rational animals exist for one another, and that to endure is a part of justice, and that men do wrong involuntarily; and consider how many already, after mutual enmity, suspicion, hatred, and fighting, have been stretched dead, reduced to ashes; and be quiet at last.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 4.3

Sayings of Ramakrishna 28


While a bell is being rung, the repeated ding-dongs can be distinguished one from the other, but when we stop ringing, then an undistinguishable sound only remains audible. 

We can easily distinguish one note from the other, as if each distinct note had a certain shape; but the continued and unbroken sound when the ding-dongs have ceased is undistinguishable, as if formless. 

Like the sound of the bell, God is both with and without form.

Friday, May 29, 2020

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.6


Socrates, you remember, was clearly of this frame of mind who, though publicly ridiculed by Aristophanes, was not angry, but when he happened to meet him, asked him if he would like to use him for some other role.

 Can't you imagine how quickly he would have flared up in anger at some petty abuse, this man who showed no concern even when abused in the public theater?

And the good Phocion, when his wife had been reviled by someone, so far from prosecuting the fellow when he came in fear and asked forgiveness of Phocion, saying that he did not know it was his wife whom he had offended, merely replied, "But my wife has suffered nothing at your hands, though perhaps some other woman has, so you have no need to apologize to me." 

I immediately think of Epictetus, who said that if someone spoke poorly of him, the fellow clearly did not know him well enough, because otherwise he would also have pointed out all of his other flaws.

Thinking like that does not come easy, but it can certainly be achieved, and once the habit has been formed it serves as a truly powerful liberation.

Some people tell me that Stoicism means not caring about what other people think, but I feel the need to qualify that claim. I do indeed care what other people think, simply because I care about them as people. But I do not choose to define myself by what they think of me, as much I may respect them.

There is, I would argue, a great danger in turning self-reliance into a sort of arrogant dismissiveness. I try desperately to avoid swinging from one extreme to another, from being enslaved to the opinions of others to completely ignoring the opinions of others.

I suppose one of the few things that I have really learned, through all blunders and the frustrations, is that I’m not as great as I think I am. Following from this, I have learned that I can also laugh at myself.

I have recently gotten to know some new friends from our local VFW, and my old Boston friends snicker and tell me that I have become a redneck. I have no problem with that, though I do feel a bit of a sting when they throw around terms like “white trash”.

But you know what? Even when they say such things, they are mistaken. Their assumptions about my character are on them, not on me. I prefer the company of people who are kind, thoughtful, and genuine. I care nothing for the color of your skin, or your politics, or your bank account. I care about who you are, not what you are.

Providence recently gave me a small chance to be myself, and to have no need of proving it to anyone else. A fellow I know brought his new girlfriend to an event, and for some reason she latched on to me. Not at all in a good way.

“Do you know how weird you are? Man, you read all those crazy, useless books. You’re just weird.”

“Yes, you’re right. I know.”

“You’re pretty ugly looking too. I’d never do you.”

“Yes, totally. I could never deserve to win a girl like you.”

This confused her deeply. It also required me to control my temper in a way I have not had to for many years. If I could treat her with decency after what she’d said, I could still be my own man.

She was right, of course. I am weird, and I am ugly.

She clearly did not know all of my many other faults. 

Written in 10/1999

Sayings of Socrates 37


You will know that the divine is so great and of such a nature that it sees and hears everything at once, is present everywhere, and is concerned with everything. 

—Xenophon, Memorabilia 1.4 

IMAGE: Xenophon

Thursday, May 28, 2020

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.35


“Again, good fortune, unworthily improved, has flung some into ruin.

“To some the right of punishing is committed that they may use it for the exercise and trial of the good, and the punishment of evil men.

“And just as there is no league between good and bad men, so also the bad cannot either agree among themselves: no, with their vices tearing their own consciences asunder, they cannot agree with themselves, and do often perform acts which, when done, they perceive that they should not have done.”

—from Book 4, Prose 6

Providence will indeed dispense justice in an odd variety of ways, often the ones we least expect, and yet it always manages to get straight to the point. It only remains for me to embrace or run away from the opportunity I have been given to become better, to return what I have wrongly taken.

It doesn’t at first seem to make sense that good fortune can actually become a punishment, for example, though it only takes some hard experience to recognize that having something can be just as much of a curse as not having something. I should not assume that the rich, or powerful, or popular have it better, because those conditions, like all others, only become good or bad when accompanied by virtue or vice.

The most dissatisfied person I have ever known, constantly racked by anxiety, doubt, and unfulfilled longing, had also been provided with most every worldly blessing one could imagine.

I don’t think it ever occurred to her that her emptiness was a consequence of what she chose to value, not of what she may or not have received. As long as I knew her, she would seek out more pleasures, strive to achieve greater fame, and tirelessly work her way up the social ladder. It all ended up being salt rubbed into the wounds.

I am, so many years later, still moved to tears whenever I remember her own tears.

I will often forget yet another aspect of Providential justice, that while I am certainly subject to it in every aspect of my life, with all of the foolish and selfish things I have done, I will also, in however humble a way, myself become a means of distributing that justice, even when I am not fully aware of it.

I have rarely been put in a position of formal authority, and that is probably for the best. I have a difficult enough time managing myself, and so I can hardly be asked to manage anyone else. Nevertheless, on those few occasions where it fell on me to dish out rewards and punishments, I became acutely aware that the responsibility cannot be taken lightly.

My own superiors expected me to censure students and other faculty, or if they became too much trouble, to demand that they be expelled or fired. The basic premise was almost always the same, that when someone was stirring the pot, they needed to be silenced or terminated. It was rarely an exercise in pursuing the good, most often just a policy of saving face and tossing out the garbage.

I would try to think of ways to heal a wound, and this was seen as being too lenient. In a world where we think it best to right a wrong only by taking things away, it was probably precisely that. However naïve it may seem, I always thought there were better solutions.

All sorts of things can serve to punish, even things that may at first look like rewards. Have I helped others, in whatever form, to redeem themselves? That would weigh on my mind throughout my meager professional life, just as it did when I tried to raise my own children.

I must finally remember that the greatest penalty that comes from vice is in the vice itself, that the constant disagreement and conflict it engenders are a deeply torturous type of suffering.

Loving people will be hard-pressed to find common ground with hateful people, and yet hateful people can certainly find no common ground in their own circles. They are already at war with themselves to begin with, and then further at war with everyone else. Their malice inherently rejects the possibility of understanding and compassion.

Having been there, and done that, I can think of no greater suffering than such a nastiness in my own soul. Looking at it from the positive side, I can also think of no greater chance to make the wrong in me right. 

Written in 11/2015

Tao Te Ching 62


Tao has of all things the most honored place.
No treasures give good men so rich a grace;
Bad men it guards, and doth their ill efface.


Its admirable words can purchase honor; its admirable deeds can raise their performer above others. Even men who are not good are not abandoned by it.
 

Therefore when the sovereign occupies his place as the Son of Heaven, and he has appointed his three ducal ministers, though a prince were to send in a round symbol-of-rank large enough to fill both the hands, and that as the precursor of the team of horses in the courtyard, such an offering would not be equal to a lesson of this Tao, which one might present on his knees.  

Why was it that the ancients prized this Tao so much? Was it not because it could be got by seeking for it, and the guilty could escape from the stain of their guilt by it? This is the reason why all under heaven consider it the most valuable thing.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.5


For what does the man who submits to insult do that is wrong?

It is the doer of wrong who forthwith puts himself to shame, while the sufferer, who does nothing but submit, has no reason whatever to feel shame or disgrace.

Therefore, the sensible man would not go to the law nor bring indictments, since he would not even consider that he had been insulted. 

Besides, to be annoyed or racked about such things would be petty. Rather he will easily and silently bear what has happened, since this befits one whose purpose is to be noble-minded.

Someone has slapped you in the face. Now you must decide what you will do.

You may think I am exaggerating for effect, but I assure you that in the neighborhood where I grew up, the routine would be to fall down on the ground dramatically, then call your lawyer, and then show up at court wearing a neck brace.

When I later moved to my wife’s corner of America, things would play themselves out a bit differently. A slap, however timid it may have been, would be met with the swing of a fist, and then a second, and then a third, and finally a kick to the gut for good measure. Your job was considered done when the fool who touched was no longer trying to stand up.

One of the reasons I have never felt quite at home anywhere is that I have never felt comfortable with either sort of response.

When I was very young, I read about Jesus telling me to turn the other cheek, and in an odd sort of way that immediately made sense to me. There were sadly a few shameful occasions where I allowed myself to be consumed by my own rage, but that has remained my ideal ever since.

I don’t think anyone I have met, not even my sensible wife, quite understands my way of thinking. The Stoics were able to put it into words far better than I ever could.

It begins with the recognition that nothing of benefit is ever achieved, not one tiny bit, by inflicting harm for harm, insult for insult, injury for injury. There is no nobility in vengeance, no glory in crushing an enemy, no peace of mind in meeting hatred with more hatred. Instead of transforming an evil into a good, it compounds and multiplies the evil. When I live this way, I become exactly what I despise in another.

To make this possible in my own thinking, another step is necessary. I am always tempted to respond in kind when I am harmed, but if I can realize that I have not really been harmed at all to begin with, then I will no longer take such great offense. You have insulted my name? That isn’t me. You have taken away my property? That doesn’t define me. You have injured my body? Who I am is deeper than that, and you can’t touch it.

I will only feel hurt when I lose something that I think is important. Once I embrace a Stoic attitude, one that sees moral worth as the fulfillment of my nature, I can walk away from any conflict without a scratch. My own priorities will determine what I think is worth fighting for.

Do I have the right to defend my reputation, my possessions, my own life and limb? Of course I do, insofar as I would prefer to retain such things. If it within my power to keep them, let me do so, but once I compromise my own virtue for their sake, I have turned everything on its head. I have traded what is greater for what is lesser.

The person who tells you he will do anything to be respected, to be wealthy, or even simply to survive has already revealed to you where his true interests lie. He cares for these things more than living well. Let him have his satisfaction, and you can have yours.

“I’m going to kick the shit out of you!”

I’d prefer that you didn’t, but if stopping you requires becoming like you, then do what you must do. I will do what I must do.

I know it sounds insane to most anyone I know, yet it makes perfect sense when I work from the inside out, not from the outside in.

But I say to you that hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and of him who takes away your goods do not ask for them again. And as you wish that men would do to you, do so to them.

Written in 4/2015



The Wisdom of Solomon 4:10-15


[10] There was one who pleased God and was loved by him,
and while living among sinners he was taken up.
[11] He was caught up lest evil change his understanding
or guile deceive his soul.
[12] For the fascination of wickedness obscures what is good,
and roving desire perverts the innocent mind.
[13] Being perfected in a short time, he fulfilled long years;
[14] for his soul was pleasing to the Lord,
therefore he took him quickly from the midst of wickedness.
[15] Yet the peoples saw and did not understand,
nor take such a thing to heart,
that God's grace and mercy are with his elect,
and he watches over his holy ones.


Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.4


You know, of course, that Demosthenes holds that people can insult even by a glance, and that such things are intolerable, and that men in one way or another are driven mad by them.

So it is that men who do not know what is really good and what is shameful, having regard only for common opinion, think they are insulted if someone gives them a malignant glance or laughs or strikes them or reviles them.

But the wise and sensible man, such as the philosopher ought to be, is not disturbed by any of these things. He does not think that disgrace lies in enduring them, but rather in doing them.

I hear it almost every day now, that our age of “political correctness” has made everyone so on edge, so easily offended, so quick to condemn anyone else’s judgment. The world has fundamentally changed, they say, so different from a better time when we could be confident in ourselves without having to go on the attack against whatever we happened to dislike.

I will respectfully suggest, however, that human nature has always been subject to this weakness, and that the only things to change are the trends and fads that become the center of this or that tribe’s loyalties. Opinions come and go like the flavor of the week, but the same small-mindedness gives a bad taste to it all.

I am old enough to remember when a good number of people would be shocked and scandalized by a hemline that was too high, or a neckline that was too low. There was no use in saying that fashions changed with the wind, and that character was in what we thought and how we lived. “Oh no! Mark my words, that girl is a whore, and she will burn in hell!”

Soon enough, you would see short shorts and spaghetti straps everywhere, and the woman who even knew what a hemline was had become a rarity.

And I slowly but surely observed the tables turn. There would now be protests and outrage at women who covered their heads or faces out of their own understanding of modesty. Once again, it was pointless to appeal to the content of character. “Oh no! We can’t have restrictive behavior like that in a modern and democratic society! They need to be proud of their bodies. It needs to be made illegal!”

It happened back in the time of Demosthenes, just as it happens now. Virtue is confused with what is popular, and principles are replaced with preferences. Notice that Musonius doesn’t just describe that this happens, but he also explains why it happens: we hastily respond from a conformity to passion and politics instead of a harmony with reason and Nature.

If I feel hurt by anyone or anything, I should first ask which of my own judgments produced that aversion. If my reaction is one of disgust, then it is clearly following from my own estimation of what is right and wrong. Am I working from a sound moral measure to begin with?

Even if I am, which is certainly not always the case, why am I assuming that it is my place to determine the actions of others? In Stoicism, where virtue is the highest human good, it is my first responsibility to manage my own character, to change what I can change about myself. I am not helping myself or helping others if my demands for justice reveal an injustice within me, if my cries of disgust only reflect my own inner rot, if I appeal to love while acting out of hatred.

So many of the things I find to be unacceptable or deplorable stem from my own ignorance about the deeper human good, the dignity of the soul.

Your words may be nasty, but they need not hurt me, and so I should not feel wronged.

You may look scandalous to me, but that says more about my own vices than it does about yours.

Your ridicule and rejection may come from your own malice, but they do not have to trigger my own malice.

You may assault my body, but you have absolutely no power over my conscience.

I should desire what is good for you, and I am not working toward that goal if I cast you out; I cannot be a friend to you if I treat you as an enemy. My acts of condemnation and violence don’t help you, and they certainly don’t help me.

Let me be careful not to trade one evil for another. There is no merit in merely diminishing your merit; I should worry more about working on my own vices than criticizing yours.

Written in 10/1999

Shamed


Salvator Rosa, Diogenes Casting Away His Cup (c. 1650)

An Honest Man?


Salvator Rosa, Diogenes Searching for an Honest Man (c. 1650)

The Art of Peace 53


The totally awakened warrior can freely utilize all elements contained in heaven and earth. The true warrior learns how to correctly perceive the activity of the universe and how to transform martial techniques into vehicles of purity, goodness, and beauty. A warrior's mind and body must be permeated with enlightened wisdom and deep calm. 

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.3


If, then, the philosopher cannot despise blows and insults, when he ought obviously to despise even death, what good would he be?

Well and good, you say, but the spirit of the man who does such things is monstrous, executing his purpose to insult by jeering and a slap in the face, or by abusive language or by some other such action. 

People have regularly told me to be tough, to get over it, to move on, to not let it get to me. I try to take such guidance in the best possible way, but I fear that I am often thinking of what is at stake from a very different place.

I am certainly not interested in being thoughtless and heartless, because however resilient that might make me, it would also be a denial of exactly what makes me human; ceasing to have concern would mean ceasing to live with any worth.

I also notice that many people are quick to demand, sometimes rather rudely, that the other fellow “grow a pair”, and yet they themselves become quite enraged and vindictive when they find themselves offended.

Is it perhaps aggressiveness they are actually preaching, not tolerance? It seems odd that we love to care so much about insisting that we don’t care.

I am hardly being indifferent, in the Stoic sense, or rising above my circumstances if I am consumed by rage and obsessed with payback. I have not mastered my passions, but I have allowed my passions to master me.

I will only be able to forgive and forget, as they say, when I recognize that all the terrible wrongs I think I suffer are not so terrible at all, that there are things far more valuable and important to cling to in this life.

There is nothing courageous, or principled, or philosophical in my thinking when I speak nobly about facing death, or I praise the merits of great sacrifice, and yet I still simmer with resentment when my neighbor rubs me the wrong way. All the big things will be meaningless without a willingness to manage the little things.

The temptation, of course, is to cast the greatest possible blame on the offender, to argue that the gravity of the transgression is too great. The wrongdoing is unbearable, the villain is unforgivable; look at how hateful and disgusting he is by degrading my name, stealing my goods, and stepping on my pride!

Yes, he causes me pain. Perhaps he is indeed consumed by ignorance and vice. Is it now my place to cause him pain? Shall I join him in his ignorance and vice?

You say he lives like a beast. It is still possible, then, for me to live like a human being. 

Written in 10/1999

Sunday, May 24, 2020

Fragments of Parmenides 8


For you can not know what is not—that is impossible—nor utter it; for it is the same thing that can be thought and that can be.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

Hell


M.C. Escher, Hell, Copy after Hieronymus Bosch (1935)




Hieronymus Bosch, Hell, Right Panel from The Garden of Earthly Delights (c. 1500)



Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.8


Yet nothing sets us free from these alternations of hope and fear so well as always fixing some limit to our successes, and not allowing Fortune to choose when to stop our career, but to halt of our own accord long before we apparently need do so.

By acting thus certain desires will rouse up our spirits, and yet being confined within bounds, will not lead us to embark on vast and vague enterprises.

A regularly offered piece of advice is that “thinking big” is the key to success. As is so often the case, what that might mean will depend upon our measures of value. Is it big to have vast possessions, or is it big to have a vast soul? Is it big to seek great power over others, or is it big to seek great power over oneself?

The scale of our actions will be in proportion to the scale of what we cherish the most, and whether what we cherish is in harmony with Nature.

Many people will think that a “big” life must be broad in its scope. They wish to leave their mark in as many places as possible, wrap their arms around as much property as possible, and have their names heard as widely as possible.

It barely occurs to them that a “big” life can be defined by its depth, not by the quantity of what is out there, but by the quality of what is in here. There does not need to be so much wanting, getting, and having as there needs to be understanding, appreciating, and loving.

The further I attempt to reach out and possess, the more I will face the limits and restrictions of Fortune on my life. This will never satisfy me, because there will never be enough to fulfill my appetites, and this will always frustrate me, because things will follow their own paths, however much I try to force them to follow mine.

When this happens, it is not the world being unfair and unkind; it is Nature reminding me to mind my business, to nurture and cherish what is rightly my own.

It is far wiser, and far more supportive of peace of mind, to want very little from Fortune, to be completely satisfied with the humblest circumstances possible. I should take only what I need to build the virtues inside me, and then be glad to let the rest be.

This not laziness, or defeatism, or settling for what is second best, but rather discovering what is truly best in a place where many people won’t even bother to look.

It is a life in accord with Nature, precisely because it respects the boundaries of my own nature in relationship to the nature of other people and things. Let me commit myself to what is rightly mine to have and hold, and not seek my own happiness in anything that is extraneous to my own judgments and actions.

Less can be more, in the sense that a simplicity of circumstances encourages a greatness of character. There is never any need to feel limited by the world if I am willing to be content with a mastery of myself. 

Written in 10/2011 

IMAGE: Aelbert Cuyp, Herdsmen with Cows (c. 1645)

Babel


M.C. Escher, Tower of Babel (1928)

Sayings of Heraclitus 27


There awaits men when they die such things as they look not for nor dream of.

Friday, May 22, 2020

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.34


“The other point too arises from like causes, that sometimes sorrows, sometimes the fulfillment of their desires, falls to the wicked.

“As concerns the sorrows, no one is surprised, because all agree that they deserve ill. Their punishments serve both to deter others from crime by fear, and also to amend the lives of those who undergo them.

“Their happiness, on the other hand, serves as a proof to good men of how they should regard good fortune of this nature, which they see often attends upon the dishonest.

“And another thing seems to me to be well arranged: the nature of a man may be so headstrong and rough that lack of wealth may stir him to crime more readily than restrain him; for the disease of such a one Providence prescribes a remedy of stores of patrimony: he may see that his conscience is befouled by sin, he may take account with himself of his fortune, and will perhaps fear lest the loss of this property, of which he enjoys the use, may bring unhappiness. Wherefore he will change his ways, and leave off from ill-doing so long as he fears the loss of his fortune.”

—from Book 4, Prose 6

I am always wary of putting people into separated camps of saints and sinners, since, as Solzhenitsyn said, “The line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”

Nevertheless, when my own thoughts and actions tend in one direction or the other, then my own nature inevitably becomes richer or poorer, and Providence never fails to offer me the appropriate encouragement or discouragement.

If I am on the wrong path, Providence can act in a variety of ways, some more obvious and some more subtle. However it may unfold, I must try to discern how the circumstances are arranged to provide the best particular opportunities, suited to my own particular situation.

Justice, in this fullest sense, does not operate only by abstract precepts or inflexible rules, but looks deeper into our habits and our motives.

I am equally called to recognizing such patterns when it comes to the wrongdoing of others, always hoping that they are given the chance to improve, just as I would also wish to be given the chance to improve.

When fortune is taken away, whether it be by losing property, or freedom, or reputation, or life and limb, it would seem the most direct and appropriate form of correction. The pain can be a forceful means of retribution, and can serve as a clear deterrent to others. The fear of suffering has a powerful way of making us think twice about our choices.

The danger for me, however, is that I too easily confuse justice with vengeance, replacing the righting of wrongs with the inflicting of further wrongs. Am I seeing the loss as a vehicle for a greater gain, or am I dwelling on taking pleasure in someone else’s hurt?

An opposite course can be just as fitting, though I do not always take kindly to it in the heat of the moment. When an offender grows in fortune, and keeps hold of his ill-gotten gains, he may still be getting his just deserts. His spoils inevitably bring him misery, because they only make his character worse. Those who look on also learn an important lesson, that riches and righteousness do not necessarily go hand in hand.

Take it away, or give me more, it will all ultimately be in the service of what is best. I only need to remember where the true sources of happiness and misery lie, and then I will not be so stubborn in seeing fortune as something worthy in itself.

It may even be that maintaining what I have will help me to acquire virtues that would otherwise be out of reach. In first grade, I once grabbed a friend’s toy I had taken a liking to, and I wouldn’t return it. Instead of complaining to the teacher, he finally told me to keep it. “You want it more than I do.”

I thought I had won, but I was immediately overcome by a powerful sense of guilt and fear. What if someone decided to take away my playthings? How could I enjoy playing with that toy now? Within a day, I gave it back, apologized to him, and the memory of that event still comes over me whenever I am tempted to run away with something that isn’t mine.

Would being sent to the principal’s office have had the same sort of effect, I wonder?

Sometimes we get caught, and we then pay one sort of price. Sometimes we don’t get caught, and we then pay another sort of price. Either way, each offers its own possibility for compensation and redemption. 

Written in 11/2015 


Tidbits from Montaigne 9


He who would teach men to die would teach them to live. 

—Michel de Montaigne, Essays 1.20

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.7


There are many who need to cling to their high pinnacle of power, because they cannot descend from it save by falling headlong.

 Yet they assure us that their greatest burden is being obliged to be burdensome to others, and that they are nailed to their lofty post rather than raised to it.

Let them then, by dispensing justice, clemency, and kindness with an open and liberal hand, provide themselves with assistance to break their fall, and looking forward to this maintain their position more hopefully.

Give me more than I need to be happy, and I will be prone to growing dependent on my supposed acquisitions, thinking they are mine when they are not mine at all, and trading a self-reliance for a reliance on luxuries, badges of honor, and playthings.

I have known it within myself on a smaller scale, and I have observed it in others on a larger scale. The necessary is confused with the extraneous. I once thought I could never survive without a steady supply of whiskey and cigarettes, but I am now doing just fine. I had a student who told me her life would be over if she didn’t get into one of her top three picks for law school. She attended her last pick, and is no worse off as a result.

It is no different in kind with the bigwigs, though the risks are far greater in degree. You can sense their dread when the possibility arises that they won’t win the next election, or they fail to secure a lucrative contract, or some dirt about them has found its way into the papers. They have built up their high thrones, and now they are afraid they will fall all the way back down. Yes, it will hurt.

If they had worked with Nature, and not allied themselves with Fortune, they would have no fear of falling to begin with. They are right to be worried, but not for the reasons they tell us. They are not victims, and wealth or influence have done nothing at all to them; they have taken these conditions and sold themselves to them.

No man is good or bad because he is rich, just as no man is good or bad because he is poor. What he loves, what he wants, what he thinks he needs, and what he acts for will be the critical factors. If he is put into a position of authority, now is the moment to seek the guidance of his conscience all the more.

Can he employ his power to live with virtue himself, and to assist others in living with virtue? Will he resist the temptation to throw his weight around, and instead carry the weight of those in need? Is he perhaps willing to give everything for the sake of others, rather than asking others to give everything for his sake?

Compassion and mercy are always required for a good life, but they become all the more important when the stakes are higher. Our lives will now touch the lives of others more deeply than we can imagine.

Keep your neighbor from falling, and you will also manage to keep yourself from falling. We are made for one another. 

Written in 10/2011