Seneca, Moral Letters 17.2

Doubtless, your object, what you wish to attain by such postponement of your studies, is that poverty may not have to be feared by you. But what if it is something to be desired? Riches have shut off many a man from the attainment of wisdom; poverty is unburdened and free from care. 

 

When the trumpet sounds, the poor man knows that he is not being attacked; when there is a cry of "Fire," he only seeks a way of escape, and does not ask what he can save; if the poor man must go to sea, the harbor does not resound, nor do the wharves bustle with the retinue of one individual. 

 

No throng of slaves surrounds the poor man—slaves for whose mouths the master must covet the fertile crops of regions beyond the sea. It is easy to fill a few stomachs, when they are well trained and crave nothing else but to be filled. Hunger costs but little; squeamishness costs much. Poverty is contented with fulfilling pressing needs.

 

I may be working from the premise that it is bad to be poor, to possess very little, to retain nothing more than my own mind and will. I would be sorely mistaken in this assumption. It could be a good thing, or it could be a bad thing, because those conditions outside of me do not determine how well I can choose to live. 

 

Now maybe I would prefer to be rich, even if I don’t need to be rich, but I should not be too hasty in my judgments. Notice how easily I could allow that preference to interfere with my principles; I must honestly ask myself at what point my longing for comfort and convenience ends up becoming more of a burden than a blessing. 

 

Once I have much, I will be tempted to want even more, and what seems like power can devolve into a dependence. As soon as I grab this or that, ever greater efforts must be exerted to protect and maintain it. Many will claim that poverty is the root of most, if not all, of our ills, and yet we can hardly expect any different from the very people who define human excellence simply in terms of worldly prosperity. 

 

Perhaps my belly is full, my feet are dry, and my hands are warm, but what of it? I can imagine what the no-nonsense Epictetus would say, challenging me on why I am judging good from evil by that state of my gut and my limbs, instead of by the state of my character. Who is the real slave, the man who commands others but cannot command himself, or the man who owns just one cloak but acts with a complete freedom of conscience?

 

The only reason I hesitate is because I am conflicted in my priorities, and that is why learning, where I can modify my thinking, is so much more valuable than property, which is only so much clutter. 

 

Some will be cast in the role of being wealthy, and many more will be cast in the role of being poor, and each will come with its own set of difficulties. The struggles of deprivation are the more obvious, while the hardships of entitlement can be the more insidious. Why should I deliberately seek out such trappings, knowing full well how easily they can divert me from improving my soul? 

 

I don’t have to fight off thieves if I have nothing worth stealing. What will be the cost of being betrayed, when a wounded pride is the only possible casualty? If someone pays attention to me, I certainly don’t need to worry that he is currying favor. Are a few pangs of hunger really any worse than an addiction to luxury? 

 

Working through the Stoic Turn makes me realize that I should think twice about wanting to trade up from the status of a hobo to that of corporate lawyer. 

Written in 7/2012