Letter 31: On siren songs
Now I recognize my Lucilius! He is beginning to reveal the character of which he gave promise. Follow up the impulse which prompted you to make for all that is best, treading under your feet that which is approved by the crowd.
I would not have you greater or better than you planned; for in your case the mere foundations have covered a large extent of ground; only finish all that you have laid out, and take in hand the plans which you have had in mind.
In short, you will be a wise man, if you stop up your ears; nor is it enough to close them with wax; you need a denser stopple than that which they say Ulysses used for his comrades.
The song which he feared was alluring, but came not from every side; the song, however, which you have to fear, echoes round you not from a single headland, but from every quarter of the world.
Sail, therefore, not past one region which you mistrust because of its treacherous delights, but past every city. Be deaf to those who love you most of all; they pray for bad things with good intentions. And, if you would be happy, entreat the gods that none of their fond desires for you may be brought to pass.
Now I recognize my Lucilius! He is beginning to reveal the character of which he gave promise. Follow up the impulse which prompted you to make for all that is best, treading under your feet that which is approved by the crowd.
I would not have you greater or better than you planned; for in your case the mere foundations have covered a large extent of ground; only finish all that you have laid out, and take in hand the plans which you have had in mind.
In short, you will be a wise man, if you stop up your ears; nor is it enough to close them with wax; you need a denser stopple than that which they say Ulysses used for his comrades.
The song which he feared was alluring, but came not from every side; the song, however, which you have to fear, echoes round you not from a single headland, but from every quarter of the world.
Sail, therefore, not past one region which you mistrust because of its treacherous delights, but past every city. Be deaf to those who love you most of all; they pray for bad things with good intentions. And, if you would be happy, entreat the gods that none of their fond desires for you may be brought to pass.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 31
I’m afraid I rarely receive compliments, but when I do, I find that they usually arise from some misapprehension, or are about qualities that are not truly to my credit. My dry humor does not reflect my principles, and my fancy degree does not make me smart.
The praises tend to revolve around the ornate trappings, when what would most encourage me is to be recognized for some simple improvement to my character. As my son grows older, I make a deliberate point of drawing more attention to his understanding and his kindness than to his grades and his appearance.
Every young Lucilius deserves a mentor like a Seneca, who offers a reminder of how genuine success comes from integrity instead of conformity.
At the end of the day, let me honestly ask myself: did I do it because it was right, or did I do it because it was popular and convenient? Only I may know the real answer, but that is enough to make all the difference for me.
Yes, the sirens will be serenading me the whole time, which is one of the reasons why it is so difficult to stay the course in this life. Like Odysseus, I might be curious to hear the song, and it is then prudent to have myself tied down to something substantial. Hard experience has taught me, however, that I don’t do well flirting with temptations to begin with, and I now find it safer to plug up my ears.
Trust me, like that toy you wanted for Christmas, it always looked much better on television. The sirens promise you so much, and then you are left as a pile of bones.
Sometimes I am warned to steer clear of this or that crowd, yet the danger is to be found among all tribes and in all corners of the world. It isn’t just the lawyers, or the hippies, or the car salesmen who lure us into poor decisions, since wherever two or more are gathered there is the tendency to play it safe and easy, a weakness of letting the herd define us.
Nor should I assume any malice on the part of the yes-men, for they have never been inspired to think for themselves, and so they think it best to do only as they are told. As Seneca suggests, when they wish me well, I should smile politely and quicken my step.
I’m afraid I rarely receive compliments, but when I do, I find that they usually arise from some misapprehension, or are about qualities that are not truly to my credit. My dry humor does not reflect my principles, and my fancy degree does not make me smart.
The praises tend to revolve around the ornate trappings, when what would most encourage me is to be recognized for some simple improvement to my character. As my son grows older, I make a deliberate point of drawing more attention to his understanding and his kindness than to his grades and his appearance.
Every young Lucilius deserves a mentor like a Seneca, who offers a reminder of how genuine success comes from integrity instead of conformity.
At the end of the day, let me honestly ask myself: did I do it because it was right, or did I do it because it was popular and convenient? Only I may know the real answer, but that is enough to make all the difference for me.
Yes, the sirens will be serenading me the whole time, which is one of the reasons why it is so difficult to stay the course in this life. Like Odysseus, I might be curious to hear the song, and it is then prudent to have myself tied down to something substantial. Hard experience has taught me, however, that I don’t do well flirting with temptations to begin with, and I now find it safer to plug up my ears.
Trust me, like that toy you wanted for Christmas, it always looked much better on television. The sirens promise you so much, and then you are left as a pile of bones.
Sometimes I am warned to steer clear of this or that crowd, yet the danger is to be found among all tribes and in all corners of the world. It isn’t just the lawyers, or the hippies, or the car salesmen who lure us into poor decisions, since wherever two or more are gathered there is the tendency to play it safe and easy, a weakness of letting the herd define us.
Nor should I assume any malice on the part of the yes-men, for they have never been inspired to think for themselves, and so they think it best to do only as they are told. As Seneca suggests, when they wish me well, I should smile politely and quicken my step.
—Reflection written in 12/2012
IMAGE: John William Waterhouse, Ulysses and the Sirens (1891)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment