Seneca, Moral Letters 10.1

Letter 10: On Living to oneself

 

Yes, I do not change my opinion: avoid the many, avoid the few, avoid even the individual. I know of no one with whom I should be willing to have you shared. And see what an opinion of you I have; for I dare to trust you with your own self. 

 

Crates, they say, the disciple of the very Stilpo whom I mentioned in a former letter, noticed a young man walking by himself, and asked him what he was doing all alone. 

 

"I am communing with myself," replied the youth. 

 

"Pray be careful, then," said Crates, "and take good heed; you are communing with a bad man!"

 

Even though I will not be made by the company I keep, the company I keep will nevertheless be an expression of who I choose to make of myself. Once I allow myself to be measured by the thoughts and actions of others, whoever they might be, I have abandoned my most precious possession, a mastery of myself. 

 

Yes, I do certainly wish to reach out in friendship, and yet none of that will be of any service if I am not first and foremost a friend to myself. 

 

A Stoic sense of self-reliance can feel quite terrifying, especially since I am so accustomed to hiding behind others, or getting lost in the crowd, or following the fashions of the day. It is, nevertheless, necessary to be completely comfortable in my own skin, to find peace and contentment with my own character. When this is pursued with conviction and courage, the fear is transformed into a liberation. 

 

I must not become too complacent, however, such that I begin to assume that anything I think or choose is worthy and acceptable. I can either become my own best friend or my own worst enemy, depending on whether I choose to work with Nature or against Nature. 

 

It is important to know if I can trust my fellows, essential to know if I can trust myself.

 

I spent too many of my younger years hardly liking myself, let alone respecting myself, and it was all because I was passing the responsibility for happiness onto circumstances beyond my power. I should offer to love, by all means, but I should not demand that others provide it on my terms. 

 

I am quite familiar with the dilemma of when it is safe to trust a child on his own, and yet I can’t help but wonder how many of us adults are really capable of being trusted on our own. Yes, we can go through the motions of our jobs, and pay the bills, and drive a car, and still too many of us are clueless about forming the virtues that lead to a healthy soul. 

 

Communing with myself? What will be the use when I have not made myself the understanding and caring person who can be relied upon to steer me right? Crates didn’t pull any punches, and he didn’t win any awards for his sweet talk; he wouldn’t have been a philosopher that cut to the bone if he did. 

 

I need to reflect upon myself with the same brutal honesty if I am to become that reliable companion.

Written in 5/2012

IMAGE: Domenico Fetti, The Cynic Philosopher Crates (c. 1620)