Seneca, Moral Letters 25.3

Meantime, you are engaged in making of yourself the sort of person in whose company you would not dare to sin. When this aim has been accomplished and you begin to hold yourself in some esteem, I shall gradually allow you to do what Epicurus, in another passage, suggests: 

 

"The time when you should most of all withdraw into yourself is when you are forced to be in a crowd." 

 

You ought to make yourself of a different stamp from the multitude. Therefore, while it is not yet safe to withdraw into solitude, seek out certain individuals; for everyone is better off in the company of somebody or other—no matter who—than in his own company alone. 

 

"The time when you should most of all withdraw into yourself is when you are forced to be in a crowd." Yes, provided that you are a good, tranquil, and self-restrained man; otherwise, you had better withdraw into a crowd in order to get away from yourself. Alone, you are too close to a rascal. Farewell. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 25 

Stoicism holds as a basic principle that our happiness is not in what happens to us, but rather in what we do. I have written out those words countless times, and I must constantly remind myself of their importance as I make my way through the challenges of the day. 

 

How odd that I should need to be prodded into an awareness of something so fundamental, and yet it tells me how confused our social assumptions have become, how easily we submit to being defined by nothing more than our circumstances. 

 

It is because he knows how he must become his own master that the Stoic values self-sufficiency, the ability to thrive on his own terms. Such a self-sufficiency, however, is not to be confused with any sort of isolation, and it can be a rookie mistake to seek relief by merely renouncing the world. 

 

While the experienced sage may be able to maintain the same character either alone or in a crowd, a neophyte like myself isn’t quite yet ready to fly solo. I still need assistance in getting my bearings, the example of those who have their act together, a sense that I belong together with others who are finding success at improving their virtues. 

 

The self-sufficiency comes from the workings on the inside, whatever the conditions on the outside; ignoring or fleeing from anything on the outside misses the point. If I am craving solitude for its own sake, that’s hardly a healthy method of coping. 

 

Genuine reform makes its way slowly but surely, and just as the beginner at running should not attempt a full marathon, so the Stoic initiate can’t immediately head off to the hills. When Epicurus advises us to withdraw into ourselves in the presence of crowd, this first requires a mind and a heart accomplished in sound judgment and supported by solid habits. 

 

I’m not going to kid myself by insisting I am ready to venture out unaccompanied, when so many insecurities have me shaking in my boots. If I come across a decent companion, let us walk together for a while, providing comfort and reassurance to one another. 

 

Creatures defined by consciousness are, after all, made to cooperate with one another, and even when they are able go it alone, they continue to work for the same common good. For all the miles or all the years of separation, their natural kinship remains. 

 

Where I have not already fixed myself, I am inviting catastrophe by relying exclusively on my own competence. Lao Tzu rode his ox beyond the frontiers of the known world, though I cannot claim to be a Lao Tzu. Similarly, Lucilius should not feel slighted when Seneca warns him about leaving the nest too soon. 

 

If I wish to become good, let me begin by surrounding myself with good people. One day I may no longer need them, but that does not mean I will no longer love them. 

—Reflection written in 10/2012