Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 23

Arjuna said:

33. This Yoga which has been taught by You, O slayer of Madhu, as characterized by evenness, I do not see the possibility of its lasting endurance, owing to the restlessness of the mind.

34. Verily, the mind, O Krishna, is restless, turbulent, strong, and unyielding; I regard it quite as hard to achieve its control, as that of the wind. 

The Blessed Lord said:

35. Without doubt, O mighty-armed, the mind is restless, and difficult to control; but through practice and renunciation, O son of Kunti, it may be governed.

36. Yoga is hard to be attained by one of uncontrolled self: such is My conviction; but the self-controlled, striving by right means, can obtain it.

—Bhagavad Gita, 6:33-36

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 5.14

Then said she, “This is the old charge concerning Providence, which was so strongly urged to Philosophy by Cicero when treating of Divination, and you yourself have often and at length questioned the same subject. 
 
“But so far, none of you have explained it with enough diligence or certainty. The cause of this obscurity is that the working of human reason cannot approach the directness of divine foreknowledge. If this could be understood at all, there would be no doubt left. And this especially will I try to make plain, if I can first explain your difficulties.”
 
—from Book 5, Prose 4
 
The argument Boethius has made can be found in many other places, and it does not merely matter in an academic sense, but it also has very real consequences for how we approach our daily lives. If everything is already determined by fate, what will be the point of trying to do anything differently than it has to turn out? Even all the prophecies in the world will be of no good whatsoever in changing direction. 
 
Cicero said it nicely: 
 
For if all things happen by Fate, it does us no good to be warned to be on our guard, since that which is to happen, will happen regardless of what we do. But if that which is to be can be turned aside, there is no such thing as Fate; so, too, there is no such thing as divination—since divination deals with things that are going to happen. But nothing is “certain to happen” which there is some means of dealing with so as to prevent its happening.
 
Or, to put it in the simplest of terms, why even bother? I feel like I am about to be transformed into Marvin the Paranoid Android from The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy.
 
Yet Lady Philosophy points out where our problem lies: it is the term of Providence itself, which we do not understand as clearly and as thoroughly as we might think. 
 
My body, as strong as I might imagine it, is but a small dot of matter, quick to come and go. My senses perceive only through narrow channels, as if they were trying to observe a grand scene through the slats of a fence. My thought, in potency able to embrace such a vastness, is in actuality bound by the limits of my experience, and, I suspect more importantly, by the blindness of my arrogance. 
 
I see the bits and pieces, as through a glass darkly, and yet I think I see everything.
 
Most restrictive of all, I am a creature in progress, and therefore a creature of change. I am subject to time. God, on the other hand, is a perfect Creator, completely transcending and beyond any change. God is timeless. 
 
And so I will impose my own limitations upon what is by definition limitless. “If God already knows, what’s the point?” Wait a moment. There is no already for Providence, and there is no past or future for Providence. There is only a now. 
 
It isn’t prescience, or prophecy, or divination. It is immediacy. 

Written in 1/2016

Stockdale on Epictetus

In his inimitable, frank language, Epictetus explained that his curriculum was not about "revenues or income, or peace or war, but about happiness and unhappiness, success and failure, slavery and freedom." 

His model graduate was not a person "able to speak fluently about philosophic principles as an idle babbler, but about things that will do you good if your child dies, or your brother dies, or if you must die or be tortured." 

"Let others practice lawsuits, others study problems, others syllogisms; here you practice how to die, how to be enchained, how to be racked, how to be exiled." A man is responsible for his own "judgments, even in dreams, in drunkenness, and in melancholy madness." 

Each individual brings about his own good and his own evil, his good fortune, his ill fortune, his happiness, and his wretchedness. 

And to top all this off, he held that it is unthinkable that one man’s error could cause another’s suffering. Suffering, like everything else in Stoicism, was all down here—remorse at destroying yourself.

So what Epictetus was telling his students was that there can be no such thing as being the ‘victim’ of another. You can only be a ‘victim’ of yourself. It’s all in how you discipline your mind. Who is your master? 

"He who has authority over any of the things on which you have set your heart." 

"What is the result at which all virtue aims? Serenity."

 "Show me a man who though sick is happy, who though in danger is happy, who though in prison is happy, and I’ll show you a Stoic."

—from James B. Stockdale, Courage under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in a Laboratory of Human Behavior

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 23

Overhastiness in assertion affects the actual course of events, so that, unless we have our perceptions well trained, we are liable to fall into unseemly conduct and heedlessness; and in no other way will the wise man approve himself acute, nimble-witted, and generally skillful in argument; for it belongs to the same person to converse well and to argue well, to put questions to the purpose and to respond to the questions put; and all these qualifications are qualifications belonging to the skilled dialectician.

Such is, summarily stated, the substance of their logical teaching. And in order to give it also in detail, let me now cite as much of it as comes within the scope of their introductory handbook. I will quote verbatim what Diocles the Magnesian says in his Synopsis of Philosophers. These are his words:

"The Stoics agree to put in the forefront the doctrine of presentation and sensation, inasmuch as the standard by which the truth of things is tested is generically a presentation, and again the theory of assent and that of apprehension and thought, which precedes all the rest, cannot be stated apart from presentation. For presentation comes first; then thought, which is capable of expressing itself, puts into the form of a proposition that which the subject receives from a presentation."

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.48-49

IMAGE: Gregor Reisch, Typus Logice (1503)

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 18.5

But no such man was the Laconian who, on seeing a man refuse to eat a young peacock or other expensive bird that was placed before him, and complain that he could not eat because of lack of appetite, remarked, "But I could eat a vulture or a buzzard." 

 

Zeno of Citium even when he was ill thought that no unusually delicate food should be brought him, and when the attending physician ordered him to eat squab, he would not allow it, and said, "Treat me as you would treat my slave Manes." For I imagine that he thought there should be nothing more delicate in his treatment than for one of his slaves if he were ill; for if they can be cured without receiving more delicate fare, so can we. 

 

Surely a good man should be no more delicate than a slave; and for that reason Zeno very likely thought he ought to beware of delicacy in diet and not yield to it in the least, for if he once yielded he would go the whole way, since in the matter of food and drink, pleasure accelerates its pace alarmingly. The words spoken on that occasion concerning food and nourishment seemed to us more unusual than the customary discourses day by day.

 

I do worry that my desire for quality in what I eat and drink can too easily become a form of pretension, where the substance is confused with a mere love of the appearances. If I am honest with myself, I know that the difference will be found in my own judgments, in the reasons why I choose to pursue certain things. 

 

I think with shame of a time when I started to refuse eating a certain soup I had long enjoyed, only because I learned that it contained mushrooms. I had thought that those were pieces of meat, and it somehow disturbed me to no end that they were actually pieces of fungus. I had unwittingly joined the ranks of the picky eaters, all too common in a culture of luxury. 

 

The mere thought of the mushrooms disturbed me, even though I enjoyed the taste of them, and, more to the point, they were surely healthier for me than the pork I had taken them for. I should be thinking more like a Spartan instead of some culinary dandy, happy to eat buzzard instead of peacock if it gives me good nourishment. 

 

A good test of my integrity will be if I am willing to apply the same standards across the board, or if I expect some form of special treatment for myself. If I say that eating an apple instead of a hamburger is good enough for anyone else, it should also be good enough for me. It will hardly be moderation if I consider myself exempt. 

 

The danger in making excuses for myself is that allowing for too many luxuries will weaken any good habits I may still have. How many wills have been broken by starting with just one bite or with just one sip? Pleasure has a way of carrying me away, not because a feeling of satisfaction is somehow bad, but rather because I am far too prone to abusing it. I find that I no longer have a rule over it, and it now has a rule over me.

 

Was Zeno being too strict with himself? I might say that a stronger man could handle it, but perhaps it was that very sense of self-discipline that made him strong to begin with. 

Written in 5/2000

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 18.4

We have come to such a point of delicacy in eating and gourmanderie that as some people have written books on music and medicine, so some have even written books on cooking which aim to increase the pleasure of the palate, but ruin the health.

 

 It is at all events a common observation that those who are luxurious and intemperate in food have much less vigorous health. Some, in fact, are like women who have the unnatural cravings of pregnancy; these men, like such women, refuse the most common foods and have their digestion utterly ruined. 

 

Thus, as worn-out iron constantly needs tempering, their appetites continually demand being sharpened either by neat wine or a sharp sauce or some sour relish. 

 

Is there some problem with receiving pleasure? Not at all, but, as with all things that should be in themselves indifferent, pleasure is not an absolute good, just as pain is not an absolute evil. The context is what will matter, and that context is all too easily lost. 

 

“What do I enjoy?” can only make sense through first asking another question, “Why do I enjoy it?” 

 

Finding satisfaction in bringing my wife a coffee when she wakes up is very different from finding satisfaction in bringing my neighbor’s wife a coffee when she wakes up. 

 

My better half has recently been working as a chef, and much of our recent pillow talk revolves around food. She knows much more about the “culture” of food than I do, and yet I am surprised at how much we both agree about the degradation of fine dining. 

 

I appreciate her stress on the distinction between a gourmet and gourmand. One eats to love, while the other just loves to eat. The new “foodies” of our age are the hipster gourmands. 

 

I weep with her when a patron demands a Caesar salad, but without any anchovies. 

 

I wring my hands with her when a dry red wine is suggested to go with a certain dish, and the fellow orders a Bud Light. 

 

And then we worry that we are just being terrible snobs. Is it wrong to ask others to think about the meaning of what they eat, or to suggest what might be both tasty and healthy?

 

A good meal should, I think, satisfy the whole person, not just one part of the person. Is the belly too full? You have eaten too much. Are the passions too dulled? You have eaten too greedily. Are you more interested in the seeming more than the being? You should have stayed at home.

 

I once waited almost an hour for a very simple plate of freshly made cheese dumplings, at an old-fashioned restaurant in Salzburg. When it arrived, it seemed like one of the smallest meals I had ever seen. 

 

It was also one of the best meals I had ever eaten. I would gladly trade every meal since then for a chance to eat those cheese dumplings again. 

 

The wife and I will insist that good taste and good nutrition are not really in conflict, just as pleasure and virtue are not really in conflict. 

 

Eat well, and so live well. Live well, and so be happy. 

 

She already had my heart, but it didn’t hurt when she named her three favorite chefs: Julia Child, James Beard, and Jacques Pepin. Old school, and also built around a balance of simplicity and moderation. 

 

People with sick souls do sick things, and their sick bodies are filled with sick things. Observe the supposedly “better” people, and observe how they dine. They eat not to nourish, but to glorify themselves. 

Written in 5/2000

Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus

 

J.M.W. Turner, Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus (1829)

 

Mercury Sent to Admonish Aeneas

J.M.W. Turner, Mercury Sent to Admonish Aeneas (1850)

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 18.3

Furthermore, as man of all creatures on earth is the nearest of kin to the gods, so he should be nourished in a manner most like the gods. 

 
Now the vapors rising from the earth and water are sufficient for them, and so, he said, we ought to be nourished on food most like that, the lightest and purest; for thus our souls would be pure and dry, and being so, would be finest and wisest, as it seemed to Heraclitus when he said, "The clear dry soul is wisest and best." 
 
But now, he said, we feed ourselves much worse than the unreasoning brutes. For even if they, driven by appetite as by a lash, fall upon their food, nevertheless they are not guilty of making a fuss about their food and exercising ingenuity about it, but they are satisfied with what comes their way, seeking satiety only, nothing more. 
 
But we contrive all kinds of arts and devices to give relish to eating and to make more enticing the act of swallowing. 
 
We might not wish to believe in the gods if it doesn’t suit us, and yet our foods should still be light and pure, exactly the way our souls ought to be. 
 
Again, look beyond the different symbolism of ambrosia, or the rising vapors, or the clear and dry soul described by Heraclitus, to consider how Musonius is pointing at what can best elevate our human nature. 
 
A thing becomes more perfect and complete by possessing a greater self-sufficiency, less bound to what is below it, and therefore more attuned to what is above it. Just as the mind and the will of a man are weighed down by a dependence upon externals, so too the body of a man is made heavy by gluttony and luxury, both literally and figuratively. 
 
I might assume that this will make my life quite unpleasant, but that is only because I am failing to understand the proper relationship of action and pleasure. It won’t be the best for me because it is at first the most pleasing, but rather it will become the most pleasing because it is the already the best. I will only find wallowing in base things gratifying when I have not yet tasted of genuine merit. 
 
It is quite natural for an animal to immediately gorge itself on whatever is put before it, since it is a creature ruled by instinct alone. Yet I have the power of judgment, and as such it is hardly right for me to consume thoughtlessly, and it is even worse for me to treat my food as something to gratify my senses alone, however refined I may think them to be. 
 
The beast will stop when his belly is full, but a man will be tempted to make an elaborate affair of his eating and drinking, not feeding to make himself healthy and strong, but feasting merely in order to tickle his fancies. The man will only stop when his lusts are satisfied, which means, of course, barring pauses to catch his breath, that he won’t really stop at all. 

Written in 5/2000

IMAGE: Jan Bruegel/Hendrick van Balen, The Feast of the Gods (The Wedding of Thetis and Perseus) (c. 1618)

Fractals 2

Self-Dependence

"Self-Dependence"

Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)

Weary of myself, and sick of asking 

What I am, and what I ought to be, 

At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me 

Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea. 

And a look of passionate desire 

O'er the sea and to the stars I send: 

"Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me, 

Calm me, ah, compose me to the end! 

"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters, 

On my heart your mighty charm renew; 

Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, 

Feel my soul becoming vast like you!" 

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, 

Over the lit sea's unquiet way, 

In the rustling night-air came the answer: 

"Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they. 

"Unaffrighted by the silence round them, 

Undistracted by the sights they see, 

These demand not that the things without them 

Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. 

"And with joy the stars perform their shining, 

And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll; 

For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting 

All the fever of some differing soul. 

"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful 

In what state God's other works may be, 

In their own tasks all their powers pouring, 

These attain the mighty life you see." 

O air-born voice! long since, severely clear, 

A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear: 

"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he, 

Who finds himself, loses his misery!"

The Angel Standing in the Sun

J.M.W. Turner, The Angel Standing in the Sun (1846)

Sayings of Ramakrishna 36

As water when congealed becomes ice, so the visible form of the Almighty is the materialised manifestation of the all-pervading formless Brahman. It may be called, in fact, Sat-kit-ânanda solidified.

As the ice, being part and parcel of the water, remains in the water for a time and afterwards melts in it, so the Personal God is part and parcel of the Impersonal. He rises from the Impersonal, remains there, and ultimately merges into it and disappears.

                                     

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 18.2

Of these foods the most useful are those which can be used at once without fire, since they are also most easily available; for example fruits in season, some of the green vegetables, milk, cheese, and honey. Also those which require fire for their preparation, whether grains or vegetables, are not unsuitable, and are all natural food for man. 

On the other hand he showed that meat was a less civilized kind of food and more appropriate for wild animals. He held that it was a heavy food and an obstacle to thinking and reasoning, since the exhalations rising from it being turbid darkened the soul. For this reason also the people who make larger use of it seem slower in intellect. 
 
I will gladly defer to those far wiser than myself on the proportion of different foodstuffs, or the merits of cooked versus uncooked foods, or the contemporary debates on the balance of proteins, fats, and carbohydrates. That is a whole discussion that must surely begin with a philosophical foundation, but must also go far beyond it in considering the biological particulars of nutrition. Both components are required. 
 
Through all of this, Musonius is simply arguing that a suitability for the health of both body and mind, along with a simplicity of availability and preparation, are the ideals we should pursue. Nature demands what is moderate and sufficient, never what is excessive or extraneous. 
 
I have heard many arguments, for example, that man was designed to be an omnivore, and a few that he was designed to be an herbivore, and I can honestly not speak with authority on any of them. 
 
How much meat should we eat, or should we be avoiding it entirely? I’m not sure, but I am always careful not to confuse preferences with principles. What I do know, however, is that most of us who have the means seem to eat far more meat than is good for us, to the point where our diets become terribly imbalanced. We do so for the pleasure, not for the necessity, and this is a surely a reflection of the problem Musonius describes. 
 
Few things are as satisfying to me as a fine cut of rare steak, and I will be the first to admit that it is to follow my passions, not just to feed myself. Yes, there might be a time for such things, in proper measure, and yet I find that my body, and hence also my mind, are crisper and clearer when I consume more fresh fruits and vegetables, or I fulfill my urge for more substance with some unprocessed bread and cheese. 
 
The imagery of the dark and heavy vapors emanating from meats sounds rather strange to us, but it actually speaks a profound truth. A meal that is too rich drags me down, making both my limbs weak and my thoughts sluggish.
 
I am prone to both eating too much, and to eating all the wrong things. The sight of me after a full order of General Gao’s chicken and a side of egg rolls is deeply unpleasant, almost as bad as the sight of me after a fifth of whiskey. 
 
Though as a child I once ate too many unripe peaches, to disastrous effect, I have rarely found myself in a physically or mentally comatose state from eating a fair amount of fresh produce. 

Written in 5/2000

IMAGE: Floris van Schooten, Fruit, Bread, and a Goblet on a Table (c. 1635)

Puddle

M.C. Escher, Puddle (1952)

Sayings of Socrates 45

Again, when Charmides offered him some slaves in order that he might derive an income from them, he declined the offer; and according to some he scorned the beauty of Alcibiades. 
 
He would extol leisure as the best of possessions, according to Xenophon in the Symposium. There is, he said, only one good, that is, knowledge, and only one evil, that is, ignorance; wealth and good birth bring their possessor no dignity, but on the contrary evil. 
 
At all events, when some one told him that Antisthenes' mother was a Thracian, he replied, "Nay, did you expect a man so noble to have been born of two Athenian parents?" 
 
He made Crito ransom Phaedo who, having been taken prisoner in the war, was kept in degrading slavery, and so won him for philosophy.
 
—Diogenes Laërtius, Lives of the Eminent Philosophers 2.31
 
IMAGE: Francois-Andre Vincent, Alcibiades Being Taught by Socrates (1776)

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 18.1

Lecture 18: On food. 
 
On the subject of food, he used to speak frequently and very emphatically too, as a question of no small significance, nor leading to unimportant consequences; indeed he believed that the beginning and foundation of temperance lay in self-control in eating and drinking. Once, putting aside other themes such as he habitually discussed, he spoke somewhat as follows. 
 
As one should prefer inexpensive food to expensive and what is abundant to what is scarce, so one should prefer what is natural for men to what is not. Now food from plants of the earth is natural to us, grains and those which though not cereals can nourish man well, and also food (other than flesh) from animals which are domesticated. 
 
Some would say it is best to leave questions of the ideal human diet to the biologists and the nutritionists, since they are surely the experts on “following the science”. And yet, in my few decades on this Earth, I have seen “the science” change back and forth over the years, often influenced more by politics and culture than it is by any insight about what is best for the human body. 
 
It can be difficult to separate the soundbites from the substance, the people who are trying to sell us a product from the people who are genuinely concerned with our health. 
 
Musonius may not have had the benefit of all the latest research, and some of his explanations may sound downright primitive to our ears, but I must remember that his interest here is for the good of the soul as much as it is for the good of the body. Though they may be expressed in what we now consider odd terms, he offers common sense suggestions on the healthiest foods within the larger context of the healthiest moral character. 
 
What we eat and drink is hardly accidental to who we are. The very substance of the body itself depends upon it, and how we choose our sustenance is a reflection of our sense of values. 
 
The virtue of temperance is concerned with our judgments having the power to rule over our passions, and is therefore one of the foundations of the good and happy life. Some modern associations of the term suggest that it is about repression and denial, but in the classical sense it is about learning to freely guide our desires instead of being enslaved to them.
 
Indeed, most of the great mistakes of my life have played themselves out in allowing my feelings to run away from me. I forget that they are mine to do with as I choose, not for them to do with me whatever they will. An appetite for pleasure or an aversion to pain is a natural part of who I am, and I am meant to feel such things. Yet to simply feel them is not enough—I am also called to understand them, and thereby to give them direction and purpose. It is what I do with my feelings that makes all the difference. 
 
Intemperance in sexual desires, the reduction of love to lust, can be a great obstacle to happiness, and has been a horrific downfall for many, but I would suggest that intemperance in food and drink can be just as harmful to us, even if its effects are perhaps more creeping and subtle. 
 
My grandmother would say that you could tell quite a bit about a man by how he ate, that what he put inside his stomach told you about the content of his heart. 
 
Gluttony is a reflection of imbalance, moderation a reflection of balance. One always requires more, while the other finds contentment with what is enough. We certainly see this in the “developed” world, where excessive consumption is a primary form of recreation, the slow crippling of the body on account of an emptiness in the soul. 
 
I hardly need to accuse anyone else of this; I have done it myself more often than I can count, and I have to admit I implicitly knew exactly why I did it. I overfilled my belly because I was failing to be content in my mind. 
 
Good food will become no better because it costs more, just as a person will become no better because he earns more. 
 
Good food will become no better because it is rare and obscure, just as a person will become no better because he is exotic and glamorous.
 
Good food will become no better because it has been elaborately prepared and processed, just as a person will become no better because he is artificially cultured and refined. 
 
The Stoic tells us to always live according to Nature, and it will be no different when it comes to our diets. What should I eat and drink? In that all the other conditions of my life should be measured relative to virtue, and the goods of the body should be in service to the goods of the soul, whatever I receive into myself is beneficial when it helps me to live in common with others, in simplicity of form, and with a purity of purpose. 

Written in 5/2000

IMAGE: Nicholas Stone, Temperance (1631)

The Fixx, "How Much is Enough?"

As a reference for Seneca, Moral Letters 1.4:

I again take advantage of one of those moments, where the encouragement of Stoic values also happens to fit nicely with my preference for the long-forgotten music and style of the 1980's . . . 

The Fixx, "How Much Is Enough?" from Ink (1991)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAojsSCMjSQ

How much is enough?

Good enough, is not good enough
Don't complain that you've got it tough
With all you have, your life's a bore
Can't relax, you want so much more
Blind needs won't set you free
Can't you see that time is slipping away? But I got to say

How much is enough? When your soul is empty
How much is enough? In the land of plenty
When you have all you want and you still feel nothing at all
How much is enough, is enough

Gravity may bring you down
But harmony could spin you 'round
Information Ariel says buy buy buy material
Give take all day long
Can't you see it's hopeless being strong
When you live it wrong?

How much is enough? When your soul is empty
How much is enough? In the land of plenty
When you have all you want and you still feel nothing at all
How much is enough? How much is enough?
Buy buy buy, buy buy buy

So give me your attention, I know it's getting late
While we were dreaming, something slipped away
We're drowning in possessions, playing tricks with our minds
Lost from one another, baby put your hand in mine
Time is slipping away, but it's not too late

How much is enough? When your soul is empty
How much is enough? In the land of plenty
When you have all you want and you still feel nothing at all
How much is enough?

How much is enough? How much is enough?
When you have all you want and you still feel nothing at all. . . 

Seneca, Moral Letters 1.4

What is the state of things, then? It is this: I do not regard a man as poor, if the little which remains is enough for him. 
 
I advise you, however, to keep what is really yours; and you cannot begin too early. For, as our ancestors believed, it is too late to spare when you reach the dregs of the cask. Of that which remains at the bottom, the amount is slight, and the quality is vile. Farewell. 
 
How much is enough? Far less than I might think, and to be found in rather different places than I might think. 
 
I may be inclined to believe that I must have more of everything, an ever-increasing breadth of quantity, and I will overlook the fact that sufficiency comes from just a smidgeon of what is complete in itself, a thorough depth of quality. 
 
I may also be inclined to believe that it all comes from the outside, from what I demand to receive, and I will overlook the fact that true merit comes from the inside, from what I am willing to give. 
 
What the world says is magnificent is actually quite paltry, and what the world says is impoverished is actually quite rich. 
 
If I wish to satisfy my vanity, no amount of pleasures, or possessions, or honors will ever do the trick. The very nature of greed is that it is always hungry, and the very nature of lust is that it always demands another go. Right there is one of the major causes of anxiety, jealousy, and resentment. 
 
If, however, I wish to become a decent man, and so also a happy man, I don’t have to look anywhere else than to what is already mine. I have the option of mastering my own thoughts and my own choices, and thereby to be myself, as Nature intended. 
 
As my young sister-in-law once said, when I asked her if she was getting too bored on a long drive from New Orleans to San Antonio, “No, I’m okay! I’m a portable self-entertaining unit!”
 
But I do not have endless options to make something of myself. My time is limited, perhaps more so than I might think. As the years pass, the window of opportunity narrows. The old and crusty habits become more difficult to break, the weakness in my bones means that I can do far less, and the hardness of my heart resists any softening. The time is right now, before it is too late. 
 
Maybe I can put it all off until tomorrow? How do I know that I will have a tomorrow? Now is the time, the only time I have. 

Written in 5/2000

St. John in the Wilderness

Thomas Cole, St. John in the Wilderness (1827)

 

Tao Te Ching 70

My words are very easy to know, and very easy to practice, but there is no one in the world who is able to know and able to practice them.

There is an originating and all-comprehending principle in my words, and an authoritative law for the things which I enforce. It is because they do not know these, that men do not know me.

They who know me are few, and I am on that account the more to be prized. It is thus that the sage wears a poor garb of hair cloth, while he carries his signet of jade in his bosom. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 1.3

You may desire to know how I, who preach to you so freely, am practicing. I confess frankly: my expense account balances, as you would expect from one who is free-handed but careful. I cannot boast that I waste nothing, but I can at least tell you what I am wasting, and the cause and manner of the loss; I can give you the reasons why I am a poor man. 
 
My situation, however, is the same as that of many who are reduced to slender means through no fault of their own: everyone forgives them, but no one comes to their rescue. 
 
Seneca wrote these letters to Lucilius toward the end of his life, in a sort of retirement from the political challenges he had faced for so many years in Rome. I can only imagine that a transition of such a kind, from being at the center of the action to being put out to pasture, gave him all the more occasions to consider where the true value of life lay, and what actually distinguished being rich from being poor. 
 
I am admittedly prone to overthinking a text, yet I can’t help but read this passage on two different levels. 
 
On the one hand, Seneca is here simply describing the state of his finances, and the task of making ends meet in this new stage of his life. Being from a noble family, Seneca would hardly have been in any abject need, but his exclusion from the halls of power would surely have diminished his resources. 
 
On the other hand, he can also be seen as speaking about a deeper sense of worth, about how much of his life he has left to spend, and how he is choosing to spend it. He no longer has as much time as he once did, and he is more acutely aware of the ways he can go about being wasteful. 
 
The decisive point comes when all the circumstances of my life, weaving their way in and out in a manner quite beyond my control, take away all the accessories I have come to rely upon, leaving me with only myself. 
 
I find that I may have very little, and yet there is still so much I can do with the little that remains. It requires only changing the measure of my success, thereby becoming poor in the flesh but rich in spirit. 
 
No, there isn’t much money, and there isn’t much time either, but every single moment, however humble, provides the possibility for thinking and acting with wisdom and virtue. A mere second, in the most painful or frustrating of conditions, would provide the chance for a boundless fulfillment. 
 
When I lose things, very many people will offer their regrets, though very few people will attempt to do anything about it. I suppose there isn’t much they could do, even if they wanted to, since no one else can give another man a good life. Whatever is or is not available to me, I am the one who decides how I will spend it. 

Written in 5/2000

IMAGE: Mateo Inurria, Seneca (1895)

The Wisdom of Solomon 7:1-6

[1] I also am mortal, like all men,

a descendant of the first-formed child of earth;
and in the womb of a mother I was molded into flesh,
[2] within the period of ten months, compacted with blood,
from the seed of a man and the pleasure of marriage.
[3] And when I was born, I began to breathe the common air,
and fell upon the kindred earth,
and my first sound was a cry, like that of all.
[4] I was nursed with care in swaddling cloths.
[5] For no king has had a different beginning of existence;
[6] there is for all mankind one entrance into
life, and a common departure.