Seneca, On Peace of Mind 14.2

Both of these qualities, both that of altering nothing, and that of being dissatisfied with everything, are enemies to repose. The mind ought in all cases to be called away from the contemplation of external things to that of itself.

Let it confide in itself, rejoice in itself, admire its own works; avoid as far as may be those of others, and devote itself to itself ; let it not feel losses, and put a good construction even upon misfortunes.

Sometimes I just let the world roll over me, and then sometimes I insist on criticizing every little bit of it. On some days I refuse to change anything about by own stubborn attitude, and then on other days I am thinking or feeling something completely new at each separate moment.

These extremes will never give me peace, and the mean between them will only come from recognizing that the “things” in my life are not the problem. I don’t need to merely suffer them with frustration, and I don’t need to frantically try to go about fixing them. My attention is misdirected when I wallow in pain, and my attention is misdirected when I insist on shaping everyone and everything else to my will.

Let me attend to myself. Where I should be constant, as informed by wisdom, let me remain constant. Where I should work to improve, as informed by wisdom, let me improve.

At no time is it necessary for me to be obstinate, and at no time is it necessary for me to be flighty. It will be as it will be; now how will I choose to be?

Having been brought into this world as quite an odd fellow, I would struggle a bit more than most to be accepted or to be liked. I spent many years working toward something even grander, the hope of being loved for who I was, not from bonds of blood, or race, or creed.

I knew my own family loved me, of course, but I somehow felt they had to do that, not understanding how many sons or daughters were never even given that gift. No, I was waiting, always waiting, for a time when someone else was willing to say: “I need you.”

That’s really rather selfish, isn’t it? Take the good circumstances for granted, and then expect a completely new set of them? When I broke down completely at one point, when my fancy expectations were shattered, I started to learn the hard way, to see things a bit differently.

I can’t expect the love of another, and I can’t demand it, and I can’t claim any right to it. What I can do, however, is to decide about giving my own love, ask myself to provide respect, and offer others what I know they rightly deserve.

Am I any worse off from managing my own choices? Quite the contrary, now I am far better off. Any more will be a privilege, something I cherish, but it will not be a requirement for my happiness.

The “things” will come and go. The affections of others will come and go. I arrived here some time ago, and I will be gone before I know it. While I am still here, I have it within my power to think and act with decency.

No loss and no misfortune can deny me that opportunity. There is that elusive peace of mind, hardly, as it turns out, so elusive at all.

Written in 12/2011