Seneca, Moral Letters 9.2

And mark how self-sufficient he is; for on occasion, he can be content with a part of himself. If he loses a hand through disease or war, or if some accident puts out one or both of his eyes, he will be satisfied with what is left, taking as much pleasure in his impaired and maimed body as he took when it was sound. 

 

But while he does not pine for these parts if they are missing, he prefers not to lose them. In this sense the wise man is self-sufficient, that he can do without friends, not that he desires to do without them. When I say "can," I mean this: he endures the loss of a friend with equanimity.

 

But he need never lack friends, for it lies in his own control how soon he shall make good a loss. Just as Phidias, if he loses a statue, can straightway carve another, even so our master in the art of making friendships can fill the place of a friend he has lost.

 

As much as the wise man finds his happiness by relying on his own character, he will still seek out friends. I might even say that because the wise man finds his happiness by relying on his own character, he will then further wish to share of himself with others. 

 

This can only make sense when I understand that friendship is desirable for what can be given from within, not merely for what can be received from without, and that love itself is therefore an action that expresses a complete commitment of oneself. 

 

I may not need what a friend can do for me to find contentment, but I certainly wish for the opportunity to do something for both of us to become better. 

 

It has only been the stark reality of facing loss that has taught me to come to terms with what I need, and with who I should choose to be. I have confused many things that were preferable with things that were necessary, and I have expected my peace of mind to be provided by certain circumstances, instead of practicing the good in all circumstances. 

 

To have externals ripped away may cause me pain, and yet it will only bring about a deeper suffering when I fail to recognize that I already contain the fullness of being myself. 

 

I thought I required her affection, or this set of honors, or that box of playthings, and I could not imagine myself without them; how quickly it can all change, and how critical it now is to not demand anything from others, while simultaneously offering everything of myself. 

 

I was once horrified when my uncle had to have a foot amputated, and I prepared myself to offer whatever kind and comforting words I could possibly say, expecting him to be deeply distraught. To my surprise, he was his usual cheerful self when I next spoke to him, and he asked me why I sounded so baffled. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could manage it as easily as you have.”

 

“It’s just a foot! There are all sorts of other bits left, you know, and they can’t cut out the bits that really matter!”

 

Those words have stuck with me over the years, as a reflection of appreciating where to find true human dignity and worth. 

 

Surely, given the choice, he would have wished to keep the foot instead of losing it, and yet he was completely willing to be happy in either case. It is much the same when it comes to keeping a friend or losing a friend. The key will be in seeing all events, however initially disturbing, as occasions to find new ways to do what is right. 

 

I at first smirk a bit when Seneca says it is easy to find new friends, since I am usually dismissed or overlooked by others, and I then try desperately to somehow make a better impression. It may be effortless to gather people around you if you are gifted with wit and charm, but some of us struggle with these qualities.

 

I feel a twinge of resentment stirring inside of me, and that is usually a sign that I am judging too hastily and selfishly. No, I am only feeling that way because I am still unclear about what it means to be a friend, worried more about the getting than the giving. 

 

Not everyone I come across will treat me well, and yet I have it within my power to act with respect and compassion toward absolutely anyone I come across. There will no difficulty at all in finding people to love, only a difficulty when I arrogantly wish to force them to do what I want. 

Written in 5/2012