Seneca, Moral Letters 21.7

In speaking with you, however, I refer to those desires which refuse alleviation, which must be bribed to cease. 

 

For in regard to the exceptional desires, which may be postponed, which may be chastened and checked, I have this one thought to share with you: a pleasure of that sort is according to our nature, but it is not according to our needs; one owes nothing to it; whatever is expended upon it is a free gift. 

 

The belly will not listen to advice; it makes demands, it importunes. And yet it is not a troublesome creditor; you can send it away at small cost, provided only that you give it what you owe, not merely all you are able to give. Farewell. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 21

 

I am all too familiar with the temptation of falling into a sort of naïve Stoicism, where, upon learning that how we feel relates back to how we think, I assume that the emotions can be turned on and off with the flick of a switch. When it doesn’t work out that way, I may feel discouraged, failing to recognize that a man is not a crude machine, but rather a subtle balance of complementary forces. 

 

I further suspect that the popular caricature of Stoicism as a philosophy that seeks to deny the passions is a consequence of such confusion, for it may at first seem easiest to ignore or suppress our appetites when they bring us pain. 

 

No, to take responsibility for myself can never be about killing off any aspect of who I am; the challenge is always to reflect upon my feelings, to discern what they are telling me, and then to direct them toward the increase of my character. How can this help me to become a wiser man? How can this help me to become a more loving man? 

 

There are many cases where a disordered emotion is the direct consequence of a disordered judgment, and when I have worked through the errors in my estimation, I will then find that the powerful longing or aversion passes away from me. The process may take time, and it often requires the patient rebuilding of habits, and yet I am able remove the burden. 

 

Then, however, there are also intense impressions that appear to work by their own rules. They do not arise from my own will, and they are instead brought on by peculiar internal dispositions or unyielding external conditions. I often do not grasp their origins, even as I can accept that Nature has placed them there for a perfectly good reason. If they cannot be dispersed, they do still permit themselves to be managed. 

 

It may not be possible to banish or to slay the beast, though it remains quite possible to tame him. Placate him with a few morsels when called for, keep him at arm’s length, and remind him of who’s in charge. 

 

I should not despair of having to be watchful; to face such a task should not be perceived as a curse, but as an opportunity to exercise greater understanding, compassion, patience, and endurance. Providence puts such obstacles in our way so that they may be transformed into good. 

 

Does my stomach grumble? Offer it sustenance, without any gorging. Is my head getting wet? Place it under a roof, without indulging in luxuries. Does my soul desire affection and recognition? Supply it with friends, without practicing flattery or craving fame. 

—Reflection written in 9/2012