Seneca, On Peace of Mind 17.6

It does good also to take walks out of doors, that our spirits may be raised and refreshed by the open air and fresh breeze: sometimes we gain strength by driving in a carriage, by travel, by change of air, or by social meals and a more generous allowance of wine: at times we ought to drink even to intoxication, not so as to drown, but merely to dip ourselves in wine: for wine washes away troubles and dislodges them from the depths of the mind, and acts as a remedy to sorrow as it does to some diseases.

The inventor of wine is called Liber, not from the license which he gives to our tongues, but because he liberates the mind from the bondage of cares, and emancipates it, animates it, and renders it more daring in all that it attempts.

Yet moderation is wholesome both in freedom and in wine. It is believed that Solon and Arcesilaus used to drink deep. Cato is reproached with drunkenness, but whoever casts this in his teeth will find it easier to turn his reproach into a commendation than to prove that Cato did anything wrong.

However, we ought not to do it often, for fear the mind should contract evil habits, though it ought sometimes to be forced into frolic and frankness, and to cast off dull sobriety for a while. If we believe the Greek poet, "it is sometimes pleasant to be mad”.

Again, Plato always knocked in vain at the door of poetry when he was sober; or, if we trust Aristotle, no great genius has ever been without a touch of insanity.

Stoicism has an unfortunate reputation for repressing emotion, and the Stoic is often perceived as a fellow incapable of enjoying himself. I can only think that such a misapprehension comes from people who enslave everything else to their passions, and who do not think that gratification should ever be moderated. They perhaps assume that if good judgment should rule, this must somehow negate feeling.

I, for one, have found myself grateful for Stoic thought during times of great struggle, and yet I have appreciated it just as much during times of quiet repose. Stoicism has not only helped me to give order to my thinking, but also to become profoundly grateful for the deepest of joys.

It seems to have this powerful effect on all aspects of my experience, where a change of estimation in my own mind also allows me to feel at ease with everything else around me. The balance in my emotions proceeds from the dignity of my thoughts; I feel better because I understand better.

This is especially difficult for someone who walks with the Black Dog, subject to a regular burden of doubt and despair, and yet I can still manage to appreciate the simplest of pleasures, and find beauty in the most mundane of things, when I consciously choose to recognize the meaning in Nature. It may only require taking a deep breath, or enjoying a good view, or going for a leisurely walk, or savoring a humble meal.

As someone who has desperately needed to heal his heart, I have found no better remedy than the Stoic prescription to clear up the inside of my own head. I’m not sure how I could ever feel any genuine pleasure at all, or be invigorated by rest and relaxation, if my thinking was still burdened with greed, resentment, or anxiety. By learning to let such things go, I also learn to take life at a serene and leisurely pace.

I am probably not the right person to talk about the healthy enjoyment of drink. If my head is screwed on right, and my mood happens to be amenable, there are few things I enjoy as much as a libation with a friend; I will actually find it helping me to be a better man.

But get those mental screws all misthreaded, and put some sourness into that mood, and then the booze, or any drug of any sort, will drag me into the pits of hell. Given my dispositions, it is usually best for me to abstain. I know exactly how terrible I am prone to become.

I suppose, however, that this makes perfect sense. Whatever is added from the outside will encourage and magnify whatever is already on the inside. Long story short, I recommend that a melancholic soul is best advised to avoid Liber, Bacchus, or Dionysius as close friends.

I misused too many of my critical years hanging about with nasty people, and I got myself hooked on all the habits that stifled my soul. Why did I assume that having fun required getting wasted? Just look at the language. No denial or escape is ever a cure for the burdens of life.

Instead, it is possible to just enjoy most every occasion, and drink deeply of anything that is given. Observe a star flickering or a bird singing. Watch a leaf fall or a trickle of water flowing. Cry because you see a new lamb being born or because you see an old ewe die.

Take the booze if it works for you, but who needs the booze when you have the buzz of Nature right at your doorstep?

There are all sorts of beautiful intoxicants in this life, and the best of them first require peace of mind to make them right. 

Written in 1/2012