Reflect, my esteemed Lucilius, what this saying means, and you will see how revolting is the fickleness of men who lay down every day new foundations of life, and begin to build up fresh hopes even at the brink of the grave.
Look within your own mind for individual instances; you will think of old men who are preparing themselves at that very hour for a political career, or for travel, or for business. And what is baser than getting ready to live when you are already old?
I should not name the author of this motto, except that it is somewhat unknown to fame and is not one of those popular sayings of Epicurus which I have allowed myself to praise and to appropriate. Farewell.
If I live in fullness right now, finding joy through my own nature and in whatever circumstances I have been given, I will not be burdened by the want of anything more. If I am satisfied with the virtue of my actions, and welcoming to however Providence unfolds, I will not be fearful of any loss.
It is that simple, one of those cases where less is more, and the only thing that keeps it difficult is my repeated insistence on making my life more complex than it has to be. I am restless because I am looking for happiness everywhere except right here at home. I am sure I must “get” what I want, and yet no further “getting” is necessary.
Unwilling to be content with what I am, I seek a false gratification from other things, and so I end up being in a constant frenzy of coveting, acquiring, and consuming. The longing does not end, always leaving me with further expectations. My hold on the spoils is tenuous at best, always leaving me worried that they will slip away.
Most of my peers, surely inspired by our professional role-models in the midst of a culture that demanded climbing a ladder to success, were quick to pursue external goals, which always seemed to recede further and further into the distance. There was much brilliance and passion, and yet they were used to slave over the means, while never quite considering the merit of the ends.
School was for getting a job, and a job was for making money, and money was for buying fineries, and then . . . suddenly it wasn’t at all clear what the point was. No matter, we continued with the grind, ever hopeful that a better life would be just around the corner, while still secretly terrified that this was a road to nowhere.
Some couldn’t keep up with the rat race, and they were now the failures. Others opted to drop out of the hysteria, and they were now the troublemakers. The show simply had to go on and on and on.
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