Seneca, Moral Letters 28.5

It is time to stop, but not before I have paid duty. "The knowledge of sin is the beginning of salvation." This saying of Epicurus seems to me to be a noble one. For he who does not know that he has sinned does not desire correction; you must discover yourself in the wrong before you can reform yourself.

 

Some boast of their faults. Do you think that the man has any thought of mending his ways who counts over his vices as if they were virtues? 

 

Therefore, as far as possible, prove yourself guilty, hunt up charges against yourself; play the part, first of accuser, then of judge, last of intercessor. At times be harsh with yourself. Farewell. 

 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 28 

 

It is never easy to admit a mistake, and all the more unnerving to face the reality of an entire set of destructive habits, but these will be necessary steps on a path to awareness. 

 

I know many who reject the existence of any “sin” or deny that a man can ever be “bad”, and while they are correct to affirm how any creature is good by its nature, it is misguided to ignore how readily the free judgment of a rational creature permits it to grossly abuse that nature. 

 

Progress becomes impossible when I refuse to take ownership of my thoughts, words, and deeds, whether good or evil. 

 

How can I fix it if I won’t accept that it’s broken? Though it is sadly an overused phrase, it remains true that recognizing the problem is the first stage in resolving the problem. There comes a point, what many recovery programs call “hitting rock bottom”, where sharply casting blame on others must give way to honestly coming to terms with oneself. 

 

Perhaps I am inclined to feel offended and outraged when others brag about committing adultery, or are proud of swindling their neighbors, or wear their hangovers as badges of honor, but I should instead do my part by perfecting my own chastity, honesty, and sobriety. 

 

Only by being conscious of my own weaknesses can I discern that critical line between righteousness and self-righteousness. 

 

“If only these people didn’t treat me so unfairly!” Now it may well be that they have done me wrong, and yet my nature’s calling is to ensure that I treat them right. 

 

“Once I get out of this dirty little place, I can finally be someone!” Now what makes me think that different scenery will magically transform my values and my expectations? 

 

Wherever my wanderings might take me, and whatever the state of the weather, let me first attend to the responsibility of improving myself. 

 

—Reflection written in 11/2012 

 

IMAGE: Carl Julius von Leypold, Wanderer in the Storm (1835)