How much more commendable than living a life of luxury it is to help many people.
How much nobler than spending money for sticks and stones to spend it on men.
How much more profitable than surrounding oneself with a great house to make many friends, the natural result of cheerfully doing good.
What would one gain from a large and beautiful house comparable to what he would gain by conferring the benefits of his wealth upon the city and his fellow citizens?
The tone of Stoic simplicity and frugality, what may even seem to border on asceticism, can easily come across as cold and heartless. Musonius here explains, clearly and beautifully, how this is hardly the case. The goal is not to deny joy, but to find joy in the right places.
How will I make use of the various gifts that fortune sends my way? Will I treat them as a means to acquire more convenience and gratification, or will I see them as opportunities to increase my ability to love?
The time and the resources available to me are rather limited, and I can never presume that more will come my way. What little I do have, the bits and pieces that are lent to me for a few moments by Providence, must be committed to what is most precious to me.
To think of all the ways I could have made someone else’s life easier, providing them with something they needed, instead of treating myself to something I wanted! Well, I may not possess much, but I do still have the current moment to change my direction, don’t I?
I know it sounds terribly hackneyed, but people really do matter more than things, with the latter ordered toward improving the virtues of the former. It isn’t that the sentiment is hopelessly naïve, but rather that not enough of us have ever taken it seriously.
I may think that charity for my fellows goes against my self-interest, yet that is because I don’t know what’s really good for me. Stoicism teaches the inherent connectedness and unity of all things, such that a benefit for one is the same as a benefit for all. Only my failure to know what I was made for keeps me bound to acquiring more shiny trinkets for myself; I forget that I become better, and therefore happier, when I treat my neighbors better.
Does it, once again, sound too much like a Hallmark card to say that giving is the best sort of spending?
I have known very many people who speak loudly about justice and compassion, but very few people who practice it for themselves. You will be able to recognize those few fairly easily, however, by the fact that they never treat their property as something made only for them.
How much nobler than spending money for sticks and stones to spend it on men.
How much more profitable than surrounding oneself with a great house to make many friends, the natural result of cheerfully doing good.
What would one gain from a large and beautiful house comparable to what he would gain by conferring the benefits of his wealth upon the city and his fellow citizens?
The tone of Stoic simplicity and frugality, what may even seem to border on asceticism, can easily come across as cold and heartless. Musonius here explains, clearly and beautifully, how this is hardly the case. The goal is not to deny joy, but to find joy in the right places.
How will I make use of the various gifts that fortune sends my way? Will I treat them as a means to acquire more convenience and gratification, or will I see them as opportunities to increase my ability to love?
The time and the resources available to me are rather limited, and I can never presume that more will come my way. What little I do have, the bits and pieces that are lent to me for a few moments by Providence, must be committed to what is most precious to me.
To think of all the ways I could have made someone else’s life easier, providing them with something they needed, instead of treating myself to something I wanted! Well, I may not possess much, but I do still have the current moment to change my direction, don’t I?
I know it sounds terribly hackneyed, but people really do matter more than things, with the latter ordered toward improving the virtues of the former. It isn’t that the sentiment is hopelessly naïve, but rather that not enough of us have ever taken it seriously.
I may think that charity for my fellows goes against my self-interest, yet that is because I don’t know what’s really good for me. Stoicism teaches the inherent connectedness and unity of all things, such that a benefit for one is the same as a benefit for all. Only my failure to know what I was made for keeps me bound to acquiring more shiny trinkets for myself; I forget that I become better, and therefore happier, when I treat my neighbors better.
Does it, once again, sound too much like a Hallmark card to say that giving is the best sort of spending?
I have known very many people who speak loudly about justice and compassion, but very few people who practice it for themselves. You will be able to recognize those few fairly easily, however, by the fact that they never treat their property as something made only for them.
Written in 6/2000
No comments:
Post a Comment