Seneca, Moral Letters 18.4

You need not suppose that I mean meals like Timon's, or "paupers' huts," or any other device which luxurious millionaires use to beguile the tedium of their lives. 

 

Let the pallet be a real one, and the coarse cloak; let the bread be hard and grimy. Endure all this for three or four days at a time, sometimes for more, so that it may be a test of yourself instead of a mere hobby. 

 

Then, I assure you, my dear Lucilius, you will leap for joy when filled with a pennyworth of food, and you will understand that a man's peace of mind does not depend upon Fortune; for, even when angry she grants enough for our needs. 

 

Some who live with an addiction to wealth and status would still like to pretend as if they are being frugal and simple. 

 

Trying to get back at his fair-weather friends, who only loved him when he was rich, Timon of Athens served them water and stones, which only proved that he was just as spoiled and petty as they were. 

 

Or when a prosperous landowner decides to move into a worker’s hut on his property, he has merely altered the images, and nothing concerning his merits. 

 

In the 18^th and 19^th centuries, one could find estates with follies on their grounds, fake grottoes or ruins meant to give an air of simulated history and mysticism. For the maximum effect, some would even hire locals to play the role of ornamental hermits, living in ivy-covered cottages and wandering the grounds as if in deep contemplation. 

 

The privileged hipsters of my generation buy “vintage” clothing at ridiculous prices, and they deliberately “weather” their bicycles, books, or guitars to appear as antique and folksy. 

 

None of this will do, for the act of treating life like a show goes counter to a sincere love of virtue. A man who wishes to be humble would never worry about looking humble. 

 

Great blessings can indeed come from consciously seeking to rise above hardship by intentionally practicing poverty, and what counts about it does not require that anyone else be looking. The point is not to boast about toughness, but to discern how the truly good life is never a consequence of any external conditions. Once that awareness is ingrained, appreciation begins to take the place of expectation; what I need is always far less than what I think that I want. 

 

It can start with little things, which end up going a long way to improving character. Take a week’s vacation from television and the internet. Walk wherever you need to go today instead of driving. Skip a meal, or replace it with a piece of rye bread and a glass of water. Turn off the heat on a cold winter’s night. Once these become easy, you can choose to raise the bar. 

 

Though I tend to keep it to myself, so as not to jinx the efforts or tempt conventional folks to lock me in an asylum, I have now worked my way through several water fasts, of increasing duration, to improve my self-discipline. Yes, it fits into the religious tradition in which I was raised, and yes, it also helps with the threat of the dreaded paunch as I age, but the primary goal is always one of being my own master, of not letting myself be misguided by a longing for things to make me happy. 

 

The results have been remarkable. I learned how hooked I really was on completely unnecessary food to divert me from my boredom and my worries, and from this awareness I began to control how I went about saying “yes” or “no” to my circumstances. I could, as Epictetus says, consider the impression, without letting it take a hold of me. 

 

There is a profound peace in receiving absolutely anything when you have prepared yourself to expect absolutely nothing. The mind is far more powerful than we suppose, able to remove the blinders and break the chains. 

Written in 8/2012