Seneca, Moral Letters 23.3

Real joy, believe me, is a stern matter. Can one, do you think, despise death with a carefree countenance, or with a "blithe and gay" expression, as our young dandies are accustomed to say? 

 

Or can one thus open his door to poverty, or hold the curb on his pleasures, or contemplate the endurance of pain? 

 

He who ponders these things in his heart is indeed full of joy; but it is not a cheerful joy. It is just this joy, however, of which I would have you become the owner; for it will never fail you when once you have found its source.

 

The yield of poor mines is on the surface; those are really rich whose veins lurk deep, and they will make more bountiful returns to him who delves unceasingly. 

 

So too those baubles which delight the common crowd afford but a thin pleasure, laid on as a coating, and every joy that is only plated lacks a real basis. 

 

But the joy of which I speak, that to which I am endeavoring to lead you, is something solid, disclosing itself the more fully as you penetrate into it. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 23

 

I think very fondly of a close friend of the family, a fine gentleman of the old school whom I always called “Uncle”. He had a remarkably even temperament, though there were a few things that would set him off. 

 

One of them was what he called “premeditated joy”, the practice of violently forcing an appearance of cheerfulness, or of insisting that if a man wasn’t dancing about and grinning from ear to ear, he couldn’t possibly be happy. 

 

I know of what he speaks, having spent far too much of my time around zealots who are all about the image, regardless of the content. 

 

What Seneca says here may come across as grumpy, but please consider carefully. Happiness is not merely a feeling of pleasure, or a state of being in this or that set of circumstances, or some sort of facade defined by social convention. As the highest goal to which we can aspire, happiness is the fulfillment of our nature, the act of living well itself, which springs forth from a soundness of mind. 

 

I often turn to the language of Aristotle to help me understand this, for in this matter the Stoic and the Peripatetic have much in common. Whatever name we use to describe it, we are all seeking a certain end, that for the sake of which we order all other things. We know we want to be happy, though we are often confused as to what this entails. 

 

Aristotle examines our human purpose, and he observes that while the function of any animal is to live well, according to its distinct nature, the function of a rational animal will be to live well in harmony with its understanding. 

 

Being so accustomed to an appetitive model of happiness, this may take some getting used to, but the trick is recognizing that happiness is in what we do, not simply in something that happens to us. 

 

Since happiness is the activity of a whole person, of course it will have an emotional component, and yet we quickly get our wires crossed. Will it involve pleasure, a sense of satisfaction? Yes, but the value of the pleasure is relative to the value of the action, not vice versa. 

 

In other words, start with the most virtuous thoughts and deeds, and you will also find the deepest joy. Do not start with the feeling alone, because while all good things are ultimately pleasurable, not all pleasurable things are ultimately good. Conscience must be the arbiter if we genuinely wish to live with excellence. 

 

I must not, therefore, confuse a deeper and lasting joy with the superficial and fleeting quality of any old sensual gratification. Happiness is certainly a serious matter, and while it must never be dreary and forlorn, it will not always be accompanied by smiles and giggles. On some days I may indeed feel carefree, while on others I will feel pensive and solemn. 

 

Just because I am not currently in a moment of ecstasy does not mean I am not living happily; I must be wary of reducing life to putting on a lively show. 

 

As Seneca says, a good mood alone will not get me through hardships, and the true test of happiness will be precisely at those times when things don’t go as I would prefer. A veneer of jollity disappears in an instant, while the inner peace that comes from a strength of character sticks with me through thick and thin. 

 

Miners will dig deeply into the earth to acquire their precious metals; I too must dig deeply into my soul to acquire the most precious blessing of all. Once I choose to commit my blood, sweat, and tears to the task, my happiness will not be something that can easily be lost. 

Do right, feel right. It’s that simple. 

—Reflection written in 9/2012