Seneca, Moral Letters 13.10

Accordingly, weigh carefully your hopes as well as your fears, and whenever all the elements are in doubt, decide in your own favor; believe what you prefer. 

 

And if fear wins a majority of the votes, incline in the other direction anyhow, and cease to harass your soul, reflecting continually that most mortals, even when no troubles are actually at hand or are certainly to be expected in the future, become excited and disquieted. 

 

No one calls a halt on himself, when he begins to be urged ahead; nor does he regulate his alarm according to the truth. No one says: "The author of the story is a fool, and he who has believed it is a fool, as well as he who fabricated it." 

 

We let ourselves drift with every breeze; we are frightened at uncertainties, just as if they were certain. We observe no moderation. The slightest thing turns the scales and throws us forthwith into a panic.

 

Hindsight can be so wonderfully clear, as well as so deliciously cringeworthy, that I can only shake my head at the triviality of so many of my past hopes and fears. There has been much longing for shallow things, and much worry over petty things. If I am able to turn that insight from what was then to what is now, I will find some strength to not make the same mistakes for the second time, or for the dozenth time. 

 

Hopes and fears pull at me from two different directions, and anyone seeking peace of mind will know how difficult it can be to find a balance between want and dread. A sense of constancy only becomes possible for me by always keeping life’s priorities in mind, by attentively viewing everything in right proportion. 

 

“Is this really so grand?” No, it will merely give me a fleeting pleasure, and I will soon regret the price I had to pay for it. 

 

“Is this really so terrifying?” No, it may hack away at the outside, but I must remember that I can be secure on the inside. 

 

The good habits can be slow to build, since they have an accumulated resistance to overcome, but with each deliberate choice it becomes easier, and more rewarding, to put the experience of panic in its place. 

 

That nagging and frantic anxiety, that I somehow need more while always feeling distressed about losing it, arises out of not finding happiness with simply being myself. If I can be satisfied with my own thoughts and actions, I do not need to ask for anything else, and I do not have to look over my shoulder anymore. 

 

When I allow the circumstances to overpower my convictions, then I have permitted them to master me, and it will come as no surprise that I am restless and nervous at the slightest disturbance. The lie only has power when the fool is willing to believe it. 

 

If I make money more important than conscience, or seek lust over love, or attend to my body while neglecting my soul, I will suffer from a permanent case of what my son calls the heebie-jeebies. The tension comes from my distorted estimation, not from the world. 

Written in 6/2012