Seneca, Moral Letters 20.1

Letter 20: On practicing what you preach

 

If you are in good health and if you think yourself worthy of becoming at last your own master, I am glad. For the credit will be mine, if I can drag you from the floods in which you are being buffeted without hope of emerging. 

 

This, however, my dear Lucilius, I ask and beg of you, on your part, that you let wisdom sink into your soul, and test your progress, not by mere speech or writings, but by stoutness of heart and decrease of desire. Prove your words by your deeds. 

 

Far different is the purpose of those who are speech-making and trying to win the approbation of a throng of hearers, far different that of those who allure the ears of young men and idlers by many-sided or fluent argumentation. 

 

Philosophy teaches us to act, not to speak; it exacts of every man that he should live according to his own standards, that his life should not be out of harmony with his words, and that, further, his inner life should be of one hue and not out of harmony with all his activities. 

 

This, I say, is the highest duty and the highest proof of wisdom—that deed and word should be in accord, that a man should be equal to himself under all conditions, and always the same.

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 20

 

When I look back over my life, I will still catch myself measuring its merits by the presence or absence of circumstances, such that I might think of my “good” years as the time I had the girl, or I didn’t have to worry about running out of money, or I was considered as bright and promising in my career, and I might think of my “bad” years as the time when all those things started slipping away.

 

I must firmly resist that inclination, for if I look more closely, I will recognize that all the benefit or harm I have ever experienced did not come from the situation, but from my attitude about the situation. When I was strong and certain in my convictions, I could weather any storm, but when I was merely going through the motions, I was tossed this way and that. It is not enough to say that I know what I am doing; I must stop putting on a show and start engaging in the actual work. 

 

And that work is never a matter of building up a façade of appearances, or rushing about trying to give the best impression. No, such vainglorious efforts are just busywork, because when push comes to shove, the players and the manipulators are simply making excuses for themselves, and they lay down a smokescreen as soon as the going gets tough. 

 

Let me put my money where my mouth is. If I believe it is worth saying, then I need to have the uprightness and integrity to get with the actual doing. The rewards of virtue are in the being, not in the seeming; whenever I am worried about how I will be perceived, my life is no longer about maintaining the dignity of my own character. 

 

Real philosophers, a term that is ultimately interchangeable with real people, will skip over the clever speeches and get their hands dirty. They will do so consistently, not just when someone else is watching. 

—Reflection written in 9/2012