I point other men to the right path, which I have found late in life, when wearied with wandering. I cry out to them:
"Avoid whatever pleases the throng: avoid the gifts of Chance! Halt before every good which Chance brings to you, in a spirit of doubt and fear; for it is the dumb animals and fish that are deceived by tempting hopes.
“Do you call these things the 'gifts' of Fortune? They are snares. And any man among you who wishes to live a life of safety will avoid, to the utmost of his power, these limed twigs of her favor, by which we mortals, most wretched in this respect also, are deceived; for we think that we hold them in our grasp, but they hold us in theirs.
“Such a career leads us into precipitous ways, and life on such heights ends in a fall. Moreover, we cannot even stand up against prosperity when she begins to drive us to leeward; nor can we go down, either, 'with the ship at least on her course,' or once for all; Fortune does not capsize us—she plunges our bows under and dashes us on the rocks.”
On the rare occasion when someone actually asks me to explain a little about what it means to be Stoic, I will usually offer something along these lines: “To recognize virtue as the greatest human good, and to live according to Nature, whatever the circumstances might be.”
I have now grown accustomed to this sort of reaction: “Yes, I do think that is something very important.”
I then bite my tongue, because I do not wish to be pushy and offensive, but I feel like adding that this isn’t just one of many important things, but rather the only important thing.
We are all used to juggling so many of what we call our “priorities”, trying to somehow equally attend to career, family, finances, socializing, or health. At certain times, we will add that we are also trying to be “good people”, though this often comes and goes, depending on convenience. We might say that all of these things are important, but we readily gloss over an order of significance, the higher and the lower, what is absolute and what is relative.
What I call the Stoic Turn requires a radical shift of perspective, one that will be quite impossible for someone who is unwilling to let go of a dependence on the external conditions of fortune. It isn’t even that wealth, and honors, and gratification are in and of themselves less valuable than virtue, but rather that they are in and of themselves of no value to us at all, unless they are accompanied by virtue.
This is why the Hipster Stoics and the Lifehack Stoics, who still rely on presenting an image or building their wealth, embrace the word, but not the task.
To find happiness from what is within our power is to thrive on the formation of character, to always give first place to thoughts, words, and deeds driven by wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice. All other things come in at a distant second place, such that we must go so far as to be indifferent to their presence or absence, discerning them as beneficial or harmful only by how they can improve our souls.
I keep all of this firmly in mind when I read Seneca’s warning about Chance and Fortune, those twin expressions of all the things that are beyond our power. This isn’t some kind of game, where I can casually mix and match my preferences about how I wish the world to treat me. How Nature unfolds, and how others will choose to act, is not for me to decide; my particular responsibility is to rule myself.
I might be tempted to think that Fortune is being kind when she showers me with riches or fame, and all I really need to do is avoid suffering too much of her wrath if she tries to take them away. I am mistaken, however, because any sort of bowing to Fortune is a surrender of my freedom. Whether it be in the having, or in the not having, either option becomes a prison.
I have never been trapped on a sinking ship, but I have found myself swept along helplessly by the strong current of a river, and I have found myself skidding uncontrollably on the ice. I am allowing something similar to happen when I subject myself to forces outside of my control. If I pay them too much heed, both a love of prosperity and a hatred of poverty will have their own way with me.
"Avoid whatever pleases the throng: avoid the gifts of Chance! Halt before every good which Chance brings to you, in a spirit of doubt and fear; for it is the dumb animals and fish that are deceived by tempting hopes.
“Do you call these things the 'gifts' of Fortune? They are snares. And any man among you who wishes to live a life of safety will avoid, to the utmost of his power, these limed twigs of her favor, by which we mortals, most wretched in this respect also, are deceived; for we think that we hold them in our grasp, but they hold us in theirs.
“Such a career leads us into precipitous ways, and life on such heights ends in a fall. Moreover, we cannot even stand up against prosperity when she begins to drive us to leeward; nor can we go down, either, 'with the ship at least on her course,' or once for all; Fortune does not capsize us—she plunges our bows under and dashes us on the rocks.”
On the rare occasion when someone actually asks me to explain a little about what it means to be Stoic, I will usually offer something along these lines: “To recognize virtue as the greatest human good, and to live according to Nature, whatever the circumstances might be.”
I have now grown accustomed to this sort of reaction: “Yes, I do think that is something very important.”
I then bite my tongue, because I do not wish to be pushy and offensive, but I feel like adding that this isn’t just one of many important things, but rather the only important thing.
We are all used to juggling so many of what we call our “priorities”, trying to somehow equally attend to career, family, finances, socializing, or health. At certain times, we will add that we are also trying to be “good people”, though this often comes and goes, depending on convenience. We might say that all of these things are important, but we readily gloss over an order of significance, the higher and the lower, what is absolute and what is relative.
What I call the Stoic Turn requires a radical shift of perspective, one that will be quite impossible for someone who is unwilling to let go of a dependence on the external conditions of fortune. It isn’t even that wealth, and honors, and gratification are in and of themselves less valuable than virtue, but rather that they are in and of themselves of no value to us at all, unless they are accompanied by virtue.
This is why the Hipster Stoics and the Lifehack Stoics, who still rely on presenting an image or building their wealth, embrace the word, but not the task.
To find happiness from what is within our power is to thrive on the formation of character, to always give first place to thoughts, words, and deeds driven by wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice. All other things come in at a distant second place, such that we must go so far as to be indifferent to their presence or absence, discerning them as beneficial or harmful only by how they can improve our souls.
I keep all of this firmly in mind when I read Seneca’s warning about Chance and Fortune, those twin expressions of all the things that are beyond our power. This isn’t some kind of game, where I can casually mix and match my preferences about how I wish the world to treat me. How Nature unfolds, and how others will choose to act, is not for me to decide; my particular responsibility is to rule myself.
I might be tempted to think that Fortune is being kind when she showers me with riches or fame, and all I really need to do is avoid suffering too much of her wrath if she tries to take them away. I am mistaken, however, because any sort of bowing to Fortune is a surrender of my freedom. Whether it be in the having, or in the not having, either option becomes a prison.
I have never been trapped on a sinking ship, but I have found myself swept along helplessly by the strong current of a river, and I have found myself skidding uncontrollably on the ice. I am allowing something similar to happen when I subject myself to forces outside of my control. If I pay them too much heed, both a love of prosperity and a hatred of poverty will have their own way with me.
Written in 4/2012
IMAGE: Pieter Mulier, A Ship Wrecked in a Storm off a Rocky Coast (c. 1650)
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