Pompeo Batoni, Time Discovers the Truth (c. 1739)
Pompeo Batoni, Time Unveiling Truth (c. 1745)
Pompeo Batoni, Time Orders Old Age to Destroy Beauty (c. 1746)
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The Death of Marcus Aurelius
Sunday, December 31, 2023
Saturday, December 30, 2023
On His Blindness
"On His Blindness"
John Milton (1608-1674)
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o’er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
IMAGE: Henry Fuseli, Milton Dictating to His Daughter (1794)
Friday, December 29, 2023
The Art of Peace 104
The Art of Peace is a form of prayer that generates light and heat.
Forget about your little self, detach yourself from objects, and you will radiate light and warmth.
Light is wisdom; warmth is compassion.
Maxims of Goethe 31
In contemplation as in action, we must distinguish between what may be attained and what is unattainable.
Without this, little can be achieved, either in life or in knowledge.
Seneca, Moral Letters 62.1
Letter 62: On good company
We are deceived by those who would have us believe that a multitude of affairs blocks their pursuit of liberal studies; they make a pretense of their engagements, and multiply them, when their engagements are merely with themselves.
As for me, Lucilius, my time is free; it is indeed free, and wherever I am, I am master of myself. For I do not surrender myself to my affairs, but loan myself to them, and I do not hunt out excuses for wasting my time. And wherever I am situated, I carry on my own meditations and ponder in my mind some wholesome thought.
We are deceived by those who would have us believe that a multitude of affairs blocks their pursuit of liberal studies; they make a pretense of their engagements, and multiply them, when their engagements are merely with themselves.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 62
I must regularly remind people that the liberal arts, or liberal studies, are not about being on the left of the political spectrum, or some vague and lofty academic term to describe the formal core classes we are supposed to take in college. For the classical model, they are the methods of learning by which the mind builds the habits of thinking for itself, making possible a way of living suited to the man who is free.
The liberal arts are not particular subjects to be memorized, or tools for professional advancement. Whatever form they might take, they are rather the very exercise of our rational nature, which enables us to have the power of ruling over ourselves, regardless of our worldly circumstances. They provide the only liberty that matters.
Understood in this light, no one can ever claim to be “too busy” for the practice of self-awareness and self-mastery, as that is itself the task of being human. The man who says he has no time for critical reflection isn’t really much of a man at all—he is a slave to his passions.
Yes, that will deeply offend those who pride themselves on their titles or their possessions, yet they should carefully consider who they are meant to be before they brush aside any pursuit of the reason that defines them.
Though it will be quite an unpopular thing to say, most of the things we occupy ourselves with during the day are little more than busywork, self-imposed burdens to feed our vanities and to make us feel as if we are somehow important. The body makes humble demands for its care, while the nurturing of the soul should be our full-time job.
By all means, choose to be a lawyer, a doctor, or a welder, but first and foremost choose to do all things with an informed conscience. We don’t have to be fancy scholars to be guided by principle in all aspects of life.
I think it no accident that my love of Stoicism has invariably been joined with a commitment to the tradition of the liberal arts, for right living always requires right thinking. Time dedicated to the love of truth is never wasted.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
IMAGE: Virgil Solis, The Seven Liberal Arts (c. 1550)
Thursday, December 28, 2023
Wednesday, December 27, 2023
Delphic Maxims 42
Have respect for suppliants
IMAGE: Christian Rohlfs, The Suppliant (1880)
Tuesday, December 26, 2023
Sayings of Heraclitus 77
IMAGE: John Singer Sargent, Orestes Pursued by the Furies (1921)
Sayings of Ramakrishna 230
Seneca, Moral Letters 61.2
Before I became old, I tried to live well; now that I am old, I shall try to die well; but dying well means dying gladly. See to it that you never do anything unwillingly.
That which is bound to be a necessity if you rebel, is not a necessity if you desire it. This is what I mean: he who takes his orders gladly, escapes the bitterest part of slavery—doing what one does not want to do. The man who does something under orders is not unhappy; he is unhappy who does something against his will.
Let us therefore so set our minds in order that we may desire whatever is demanded of us by circumstances, and above all that we may reflect upon our end without sadness.
We must make ready for death before we make ready for life. Life is well enough furnished, but we are too greedy with regard to its furnishings; something always seems to us lacking, and will always seem lacking.
To have lived long enough depends neither upon our years nor upon our days, but upon our minds. I have lived, my dear friend Lucilius, long enough. I have had my fill; I await death. Farewell.
That which is bound to be a necessity if you rebel, is not a necessity if you desire it. This is what I mean: he who takes his orders gladly, escapes the bitterest part of slavery—doing what one does not want to do. The man who does something under orders is not unhappy; he is unhappy who does something against his will.
Let us therefore so set our minds in order that we may desire whatever is demanded of us by circumstances, and above all that we may reflect upon our end without sadness.
We must make ready for death before we make ready for life. Life is well enough furnished, but we are too greedy with regard to its furnishings; something always seems to us lacking, and will always seem lacking.
To have lived long enough depends neither upon our years nor upon our days, but upon our minds. I have lived, my dear friend Lucilius, long enough. I have had my fill; I await death. Farewell.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 61
I have a hunch that all of us, at some point in our lives, whatever the conditions may be, are challenged to recognize that a good life must also involve a good death, that gladly embracing the way it is going to end is a necessary part of the whole journey. I fear, however, that too many of us will cling to survival at the expense of character, and I am now committed to not making that tragic mistake.
It may seem contradictory to suggest that I can be free in the face of something that is inevitable, and yet, as with all things Stoic, the resolution is within my own thinking. I only become confused when I define myself by this or that external circumstance, when the fullness of my happiness is actually to be found through the content of my judgments and choices.
If something must come, Providence has made it so to be right and good. It then remains for me to either cooperate in liberty or to be dragged along in slavery. This or that will happen—now what am I going to make of it? My nature is meant to flow with all of Nature, and my joyful assent to this purpose and design is the key to peace of mind.
How simple, yet how easily overlooked—If I decide not to be forced, I have not been forced, and through it all the dignity of my virtues remains intact. If I have done all in my power to act with integrity, there is nothing in this world that can bind me. Through interdependence comes independence.
I have spent most of my time and effort on trying to live in security, and hardly enough time and effort on striving to die with nobility. As with so many things Stoics, the priorities must be reversed. The lure of comfort is the far greater threat to my soul than the mortality of the flesh. This is why the rich man fears his demise, and the good man has no regrets.
Quality over quantity. More isn’t better—better is better.
I have a hunch that all of us, at some point in our lives, whatever the conditions may be, are challenged to recognize that a good life must also involve a good death, that gladly embracing the way it is going to end is a necessary part of the whole journey. I fear, however, that too many of us will cling to survival at the expense of character, and I am now committed to not making that tragic mistake.
It may seem contradictory to suggest that I can be free in the face of something that is inevitable, and yet, as with all things Stoic, the resolution is within my own thinking. I only become confused when I define myself by this or that external circumstance, when the fullness of my happiness is actually to be found through the content of my judgments and choices.
If something must come, Providence has made it so to be right and good. It then remains for me to either cooperate in liberty or to be dragged along in slavery. This or that will happen—now what am I going to make of it? My nature is meant to flow with all of Nature, and my joyful assent to this purpose and design is the key to peace of mind.
How simple, yet how easily overlooked—If I decide not to be forced, I have not been forced, and through it all the dignity of my virtues remains intact. If I have done all in my power to act with integrity, there is nothing in this world that can bind me. Through interdependence comes independence.
I have spent most of my time and effort on trying to live in security, and hardly enough time and effort on striving to die with nobility. As with so many things Stoics, the priorities must be reversed. The lure of comfort is the far greater threat to my soul than the mortality of the flesh. This is why the rich man fears his demise, and the good man has no regrets.
Quality over quantity. More isn’t better—better is better.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
IMAGE: Noel Halle, The Death of Seneca (1750)
Monday, December 25, 2023
Sunday, December 24, 2023
Stoic Snippets 223
Everything which happens either happens in such a way as you are formed by nature to bear it, or as you are not formed by nature to bear it.
If, then, it happens to you in such a way as you are formed by nature to bear it, do not complain, but bear it as you are formed by nature to bear it.
But if it happens in such a way as you are not formed by nature to bear it, do not complain, for it will perish after it has consumed you.
Remember, however, that you are formed by nature to bear everything, with respect to which it depends on your own opinion to make it endurable and tolerable, by thinking that it is either in your interest or your duty to do this.
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 10.3
IMAGE: Melody Suttles, Endurance Tree
Saturday, December 23, 2023
Tidbits from Montaigne 60
—Michel de Montaigne, Essays 3.11
IMAGE: William Blake, The Good and Evil Angels (1795)
Dhammapada 354
IMAGE: Eugene Fromentin, The Land of Thirst (c. 1869)
Seneca, Moral Letters 61.1
Letter 61: On meeting death cheerfully
Let us cease to desire that which we have been desiring. I, at least, am doing this: in my old age I have ceased to desire what I desired when a boy. To this single end my days and my nights are passed; this is my task, this the object of my thoughts—to put an end to my chronic ills.
I am endeavoring to live every day as if it were a complete life. I do not indeed snatch it up as if it were my last; I do regard it, however, as if it might even be my last.
The present letter is written to you with this in mind—as if death were about to call me away in the very act of writing. I am ready to depart, and I shall enjoy life just because I am not over-anxious as to the future date of my departure.
Let us cease to desire that which we have been desiring. I, at least, am doing this: in my old age I have ceased to desire what I desired when a boy. To this single end my days and my nights are passed; this is my task, this the object of my thoughts—to put an end to my chronic ills.
I am endeavoring to live every day as if it were a complete life. I do not indeed snatch it up as if it were my last; I do regard it, however, as if it might even be my last.
The present letter is written to you with this in mind—as if death were about to call me away in the very act of writing. I am ready to depart, and I shall enjoy life just because I am not over-anxious as to the future date of my departure.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 61
I could say that my youth was wasted on a longing for the things that were never meant to be mine, but that wouldn’t really be true, would it? It was hardly a waste, because without that struggle I would never have arrived, however late or imperfect, at a fuller recognition of my true nature. The failures then were a part of the learning now.
As our sensation is first directed outwards, it can take some time before we realize why we must then turn inwards. What initially appeared to be so crucial will begin to feel quite irrelevant, once we accept that our own attitudes have been the source of all our troubles. The cure for what ails us is not to be found somewhere “out there”.
I have bemoaned that I am not loved, and yet the problems always arose from how I myself chose to love. I have fussed over the weight of circumstances, though the sorrow was always in the way I reacted to those conditions. I have sought comfort in grasping onto distant things, when what I needed was always right there in front of me. The disorder was inevitably of my own making.
While the repeated Stoic stress on our mortality may seem morbid to some, it actually serves as an immensely powerful tool for embracing the dignity of life. Once I can remember that I am not granted endless opportunities, and that death will come to me on its own terms, I am left with a profound appreciation for how each and every moment is precious, and why it should be treated as if it contained the worth of a whole lifetime.
Indeed, if I can treat today like the only day I have, I am offered the limitless peace that comes with total self-reliance. There is no end to the joy, because there are no bounds to my acceptance of my gifts, nothing that remains to be desired. A single act of virtue, as tiny as it may be, takes on the significance of an entire life.
When I no longer worry about the quantity of time that is granted to me, I now have a complete hold over the quality of my humanity.
I could say that my youth was wasted on a longing for the things that were never meant to be mine, but that wouldn’t really be true, would it? It was hardly a waste, because without that struggle I would never have arrived, however late or imperfect, at a fuller recognition of my true nature. The failures then were a part of the learning now.
As our sensation is first directed outwards, it can take some time before we realize why we must then turn inwards. What initially appeared to be so crucial will begin to feel quite irrelevant, once we accept that our own attitudes have been the source of all our troubles. The cure for what ails us is not to be found somewhere “out there”.
I have bemoaned that I am not loved, and yet the problems always arose from how I myself chose to love. I have fussed over the weight of circumstances, though the sorrow was always in the way I reacted to those conditions. I have sought comfort in grasping onto distant things, when what I needed was always right there in front of me. The disorder was inevitably of my own making.
While the repeated Stoic stress on our mortality may seem morbid to some, it actually serves as an immensely powerful tool for embracing the dignity of life. Once I can remember that I am not granted endless opportunities, and that death will come to me on its own terms, I am left with a profound appreciation for how each and every moment is precious, and why it should be treated as if it contained the worth of a whole lifetime.
Indeed, if I can treat today like the only day I have, I am offered the limitless peace that comes with total self-reliance. There is no end to the joy, because there are no bounds to my acceptance of my gifts, nothing that remains to be desired. A single act of virtue, as tiny as it may be, takes on the significance of an entire life.
When I no longer worry about the quantity of time that is granted to me, I now have a complete hold over the quality of my humanity.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
IMAGES by Jessica Benhar
Friday, December 22, 2023
Epictetus, Golden Sayings 174
If your brother sins against you lay not hold of it by the handle of injustice, for by that it may not be borne: but rather by this, that he is your brother, the comrade of your youth; and thus you will lay hold on it so that it may be borne.
IMAGE: Thomas Satterwhite Noble, Forgiven (c. 1872)
Thursday, December 21, 2023
Seneca, Moral Letters 60.3
Therefore, those who, as Sallust puts it, "hearken to their bellies," should be numbered among the animals, and not among men; and certain men, indeed, should be numbered, not even among the animals, but among the dead.
He really lives who is made use of by many; he really lives who makes use of himself. Those men, however, who creep into a hole and grow torpid are no better off in their homes than if they were in their tombs. Right there on the marble lintel of the house of such a man you may inscribe his name, for he has died before he is dead. Farewell.
He really lives who is made use of by many; he really lives who makes use of himself. Those men, however, who creep into a hole and grow torpid are no better off in their homes than if they were in their tombs. Right there on the marble lintel of the house of such a man you may inscribe his name, for he has died before he is dead. Farewell.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 60
Due to an underlying melancholy, I also have an unfortunate tendency to misanthropy. When I see men behaving as if they were brutes, consumed by lust and rage, I am tempted to say that I have given up on the human race. How is it possible for people to be so thoughtless and careless?
No, let me first cease to be thoughtless and careless myself! It is not the presence of humanity that disturbs me, but rather its absence, so when I encounter those who are forgetful of their own natures, compassion is far more fitting than rejection. Think more of what a man can be, and less of how he may fall short.
If my neighbor chooses to seek pleasure over principle, I may compare him to a beast, yet the contrast is far more extreme. At least the animal lives according to its own instincts, and yet a man negates his very identity when he abandons wisdom and love.
While there is a certain poetry to the image of a voracious man being like a wolf, or a lazy man being like an ass, it would be more fitting to say that he is no longer among the living at all—he is drained of his vital essence.
Instead of cursing him, I should wish for him to regain his purpose, and perhaps I can help him to do so, in some small way, by standing firm in my own. That something has been corrupted is a call for its recovery, not an excuse for it to be thrown way.
As soon as I pray to receive more profit or comfort, I too am now among the dead. It is better if I ask for guidance in how I might more fully learn to give of myself. As Marcus Aurelius said:
It is a shame for the soul to be first to give way in this life, when your body does not give way.
Due to an underlying melancholy, I also have an unfortunate tendency to misanthropy. When I see men behaving as if they were brutes, consumed by lust and rage, I am tempted to say that I have given up on the human race. How is it possible for people to be so thoughtless and careless?
No, let me first cease to be thoughtless and careless myself! It is not the presence of humanity that disturbs me, but rather its absence, so when I encounter those who are forgetful of their own natures, compassion is far more fitting than rejection. Think more of what a man can be, and less of how he may fall short.
If my neighbor chooses to seek pleasure over principle, I may compare him to a beast, yet the contrast is far more extreme. At least the animal lives according to its own instincts, and yet a man negates his very identity when he abandons wisdom and love.
While there is a certain poetry to the image of a voracious man being like a wolf, or a lazy man being like an ass, it would be more fitting to say that he is no longer among the living at all—he is drained of his vital essence.
Instead of cursing him, I should wish for him to regain his purpose, and perhaps I can help him to do so, in some small way, by standing firm in my own. That something has been corrupted is a call for its recovery, not an excuse for it to be thrown way.
As soon as I pray to receive more profit or comfort, I too am now among the dead. It is better if I ask for guidance in how I might more fully learn to give of myself. As Marcus Aurelius said:
It is a shame for the soul to be first to give way in this life, when your body does not give way.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
Wednesday, December 20, 2023
Aesop's Fables 72
An old man on the point of death summoned his sons around him to give them some parting advice.
He ordered his servants to bring in a faggot of sticks, and said to his eldest son: "Break it."
The son strained and strained, but with all his efforts was unable to break the Bundle.
The other sons also tried, but none of them was successful.
"Untie the faggots," said the father, "and each of you take a stick."
When they had done so, he called out to them: "Now, break," and each stick was easily broken.
"You see my meaning," said their father.
Union gives strength.
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Tuesday, December 19, 2023
Monday, December 18, 2023
Stockdale on Stoicism 40
In the aftermath of the Korean War, just over 10 years before, we all had memories of reading about and seeing early television news accounts of U.S. government investigations into the behavior of some American prisoners of war in North Korea and mainland China. The gist of it was that in prison camps for Americans, it was every man for himself.
Since those days, I've come to know officers who were prisoners of war there, and I now see much of that as selective reporting and as a bum rap.
However, there were cases of young soldiers who were confused by the times, scared to death, in cold weather, treating each other like dogs fighting over scraps, throwing each other out in the snow to die, and nobody doing anything about it.
This could not go on, and President Eisenhower commissioned the writing of the American Fighting Man's Code of Conduct. It was written in the fonn of a personal pledge. Article 4:
"If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information or take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades. If I am senior, I will take command. If not, I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me and will back them up in every way."
In other words, as of the moment Eisenhower signed that document, American prisoners of war were never to escape the chain of command; the war goes on behind bars.
"If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information or take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades. If I am senior, I will take command. If not, I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me and will back them up in every way."
In other words, as of the moment Eisenhower signed that document, American prisoners of war were never to escape the chain of command; the war goes on behind bars.
—from James B. Stockdale, Master of My Fate: A Stoic Philosopher in a Hanoi Prison
Maxims of Goethe 30
When a man asks too much and delights in complication, he is exposed to perplexity.
IMAGE: Caravaggio, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas (1601)
Seneca, Moral Letters 60.2
How long shall we go on making demands upon the gods, as if we were still unable to support ourselves? How long shall we continue to fill with grain the marketplaces of our great cities? How long must the people gather it in for us? How long shall many ships convey the requisites for a single meal, bringing them from no single sea?
The bull is filled when he feeds over a few acres; and one forest is large enough for a herd of elephants. Man, however, draws sustenance both from the earth and from the sea.
What, then? Did Nature give us bellies so insatiable, when she gave us these puny bodies, that we should outdo the hugest and most voracious animals in greed? Not at all. How small is the amount which will satisfy nature? A very little will send her away contented. It is not the natural hunger of our bellies that costs us dear, but our solicitous cravings.
The bull is filled when he feeds over a few acres; and one forest is large enough for a herd of elephants. Man, however, draws sustenance both from the earth and from the sea.
What, then? Did Nature give us bellies so insatiable, when she gave us these puny bodies, that we should outdo the hugest and most voracious animals in greed? Not at all. How small is the amount which will satisfy nature? A very little will send her away contented. It is not the natural hunger of our bellies that costs us dear, but our solicitous cravings.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 60
G.K. Chesterton famously observed how quick we are to condemn what is wrong with the world before we have first bothered to understand what is right with the world. And so, for example, I am told every day how we are doing all these terrible things to destroy what is now called the “environment”, and yet I am rarely offered a positive account of how a man should actually live within the order of Nature.
Speaking for myself, as I don’t think it my place to boss others, I know that when I acquire and consume less, I thereby also show greater reverence for other creatures, and I can, in turn, only deny myself the luxuries of technology when I have fortified the virtues of my humanity. If I look within myself with brutal honesty, I recognize that the vast majority of things I call the bare necessities of life are no more than idle indulgences.
In other words, if I want to save a tree, let me begin by not building a bigger house. If I want to go places, let me start by using my own two feet. Those infernal pits of factories and warehouses, those sterile cityscapes smothered in concrete and asphalt, those shelves upon shelves of processed foods packaged in disposable plastic are little more than testaments to insatiable greed. Reforming the soul is the condition for any healing.
It would appear it was no different in Seneca’s time than it is in ours. Where character is lacking, fame and fortune come calling after me. When the mind is empty of meaning, I assume I can substitute with a gorged belly. If the heart grows cold, my attention turns to decadent diversions.
Once I learn more about who I am, I slowly but surely discern how little I need from the outside to nourish what is on the inside. Indeed, even the most trying conditions become opportunities to thrive, because I am now looking for my rewards elsewhere. I will respectfully protest the next time you define me by how much I buy and sell.
G.K. Chesterton famously observed how quick we are to condemn what is wrong with the world before we have first bothered to understand what is right with the world. And so, for example, I am told every day how we are doing all these terrible things to destroy what is now called the “environment”, and yet I am rarely offered a positive account of how a man should actually live within the order of Nature.
Speaking for myself, as I don’t think it my place to boss others, I know that when I acquire and consume less, I thereby also show greater reverence for other creatures, and I can, in turn, only deny myself the luxuries of technology when I have fortified the virtues of my humanity. If I look within myself with brutal honesty, I recognize that the vast majority of things I call the bare necessities of life are no more than idle indulgences.
In other words, if I want to save a tree, let me begin by not building a bigger house. If I want to go places, let me start by using my own two feet. Those infernal pits of factories and warehouses, those sterile cityscapes smothered in concrete and asphalt, those shelves upon shelves of processed foods packaged in disposable plastic are little more than testaments to insatiable greed. Reforming the soul is the condition for any healing.
It would appear it was no different in Seneca’s time than it is in ours. Where character is lacking, fame and fortune come calling after me. When the mind is empty of meaning, I assume I can substitute with a gorged belly. If the heart grows cold, my attention turns to decadent diversions.
Once I learn more about who I am, I slowly but surely discern how little I need from the outside to nourish what is on the inside. Indeed, even the most trying conditions become opportunities to thrive, because I am now looking for my rewards elsewhere. I will respectfully protest the next time you define me by how much I buy and sell.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
Sunday, December 17, 2023
Delphic Maxims 41
Despise insolence
IMAGE: Hans Holbein the Younger, Rehoboam's Insolence (1530)
Saturday, December 16, 2023
Ralph Waldo Emerson 4
He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser, sees newly every time he looks at the object beloved, drawing from it with his eyes and his mind those virtues which it possesses.
—from Ralph Waldo Emerson, Address on the Method of Nature
IMAGE: Dante Gabriel Rossetti, The Beloved (1866)
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Sayings of Ramakrishna 229
Seneca, Moral Letters 60.1
Letter 60: On harmful prayers
I file a complaint, I enter a suit, I am angry. Do you still desire what your nurse, your guardian, or your mother, have prayed for in your behalf? Do you not yet understand what evil they prayed for? Alas, how hostile to us are the wishes of our own folk! And they are all the more hostile in proportion as they are more completely fulfilled.
It is no surprise to me, at my age, that nothing but evil attends us from our early youth; for we have grown up amid the curses invoked by our parents. And may the gods give ear to our cry also, uttered in our own behalf—one which asks no favors!
I file a complaint, I enter a suit, I am angry. Do you still desire what your nurse, your guardian, or your mother, have prayed for in your behalf? Do you not yet understand what evil they prayed for? Alas, how hostile to us are the wishes of our own folk! And they are all the more hostile in proportion as they are more completely fulfilled.
It is no surprise to me, at my age, that nothing but evil attends us from our early youth; for we have grown up amid the curses invoked by our parents. And may the gods give ear to our cry also, uttered in our own behalf—one which asks no favors!
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 60
This opening of this letter at first made me do a double-take, because I am not used to Seneca griping about the evils of the world. It took me a moment to recognize that he isn’t dwelling on resentment, but is rather striving for improvement. I have spent far too long wishing for all the wrong things, so now it is finally time to stop demanding and to start doing.
While it obviously isn’t true of all parents, do you nevertheless notice how many of them only hope and pray that their children will become rich and successful? Their teachers, and later their bosses, encourage the same sort of goals, and so we end up with little more than a well-trained “workforce” to push buttons and shuffle papers for the sake of pennies and pats on the back. This seems to me more like a curse than a blessing.
It is understandable that I would prefer pleasure over pain, wealth over poverty, and praise over disgrace, and yet if I am so busy asking God to give me what I want, I am inclined to overlook what I truly need. There is no benefit to becoming comfortable, rich, and famous if I have not, first and foremost, formed the virtues necessary to manage either their presence or their absence.
Instead of presenting a long list of demands, which is what prayer has sadly become, let me ask to be relieved of all demands, which is what prayer rightly should be. Our supposed “betters” do us no favors when they merely encourage us to acquire and consume more and more.
My son is now entering into the age of reason, and while some parents dread the incessant questions that come with it, I find them absolutely delightful. The other day, he asked me what I wanted him to do when he grew up. I suppose he was expecting me to recommend a certain profession, and he was a bit taken aback when I told him that all I wished for him was to become a good man, and therefore a happy man.
I imagine raising him this way will make jumping through the hoops a bit harder, though I hope it will make finding some peace of mind far easier.
This opening of this letter at first made me do a double-take, because I am not used to Seneca griping about the evils of the world. It took me a moment to recognize that he isn’t dwelling on resentment, but is rather striving for improvement. I have spent far too long wishing for all the wrong things, so now it is finally time to stop demanding and to start doing.
While it obviously isn’t true of all parents, do you nevertheless notice how many of them only hope and pray that their children will become rich and successful? Their teachers, and later their bosses, encourage the same sort of goals, and so we end up with little more than a well-trained “workforce” to push buttons and shuffle papers for the sake of pennies and pats on the back. This seems to me more like a curse than a blessing.
It is understandable that I would prefer pleasure over pain, wealth over poverty, and praise over disgrace, and yet if I am so busy asking God to give me what I want, I am inclined to overlook what I truly need. There is no benefit to becoming comfortable, rich, and famous if I have not, first and foremost, formed the virtues necessary to manage either their presence or their absence.
Instead of presenting a long list of demands, which is what prayer has sadly become, let me ask to be relieved of all demands, which is what prayer rightly should be. Our supposed “betters” do us no favors when they merely encourage us to acquire and consume more and more.
My son is now entering into the age of reason, and while some parents dread the incessant questions that come with it, I find them absolutely delightful. The other day, he asked me what I wanted him to do when he grew up. I suppose he was expecting me to recommend a certain profession, and he was a bit taken aback when I told him that all I wished for him was to become a good man, and therefore a happy man.
I imagine raising him this way will make jumping through the hoops a bit harder, though I hope it will make finding some peace of mind far easier.
—Reflection written in 6/2013
Friday, December 15, 2023
The Paris Dance of Death 18
Guyot Marchant, The Paris Dance of Death: The Pilgrim and the Shepherd (1485)
The Paris Dance of Death 17
Guyot Marchant, The Paris Dance of Death: The Promoter and the Jailer (1485)
The Paris Dance of Death 16
Guyot Marchant, The Paris Dance of Death: The Parish Priest and the Peasant (1485)
Thursday, December 14, 2023
Wednesday, December 13, 2023
Stoic Snippets 222
Observe what your nature requires, so far as you are governed by Nature only: then do it and accept it, if your nature, so far as you are a living being, shall not be made worse by it.
And next you must observe what your nature requires so far as you are a living being. And all this you may allow yourself, if your nature, so far as you are a rational animal, shall not be made worse by it.
But the rational animal is consequently also a social animal.
Use these rules, then, and trouble yourself about nothing else.
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 10.2
IMAGE: Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Playing Naked People (1910)
Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 46
Before you're married, strive to live as free
As possibly you can from venery;
Though 'tis a lust of a rebellious kind,
That owns the least subjection to the mind,
Th' effort of flesh, of blood, the furious horse,
That bears against the bit with headstrong force;
Yet you're oblig'd in justice to refrain,
And to preserve your body without stain:
For as you think 'twould lessen your repute
To marry with a common prostitute,
So you're oblig'd to give yourself entire
To the chaste arms of her whom you admire;
But if you're borne so forcibly away,
As not for Hymen and his rites to stay,
Yet still your country's laws claim just respect,
Though you the rules of chastity neglect;
Though ne'er so rampant, sure you may abstain
From what's forbidden, from unlawful gain;
As from adultery; nor need you wrong
Another, though your lusts be ne'er so strong;
Since there are other liberties allow'd,
To asswage this scorching fever of the blood.
But if you're throughly mortify'd, and find
No inclination left for womankind,
Yet grow not proud upon't, nor those accuse,
Who court those sensual pleasures you refuse;
Nor boast your virtue such, that you defy
The weak attractions of a pleasing eye;
That you, forsooth, are cold as Scythian ice;
For boasting is a most intemp'rate vice,
Not worse the wanton sport that you despise.
No, 'tis the leach'ry of the mind, for which
There's no excuse of flesh and blood, an itch
Of being prais'd, which rather than you'll want,
Ev'n you yourself are you own sycophant.
As possibly you can from venery;
Though 'tis a lust of a rebellious kind,
That owns the least subjection to the mind,
Th' effort of flesh, of blood, the furious horse,
That bears against the bit with headstrong force;
Yet you're oblig'd in justice to refrain,
And to preserve your body without stain:
For as you think 'twould lessen your repute
To marry with a common prostitute,
So you're oblig'd to give yourself entire
To the chaste arms of her whom you admire;
But if you're borne so forcibly away,
As not for Hymen and his rites to stay,
Yet still your country's laws claim just respect,
Though you the rules of chastity neglect;
Though ne'er so rampant, sure you may abstain
From what's forbidden, from unlawful gain;
As from adultery; nor need you wrong
Another, though your lusts be ne'er so strong;
Since there are other liberties allow'd,
To asswage this scorching fever of the blood.
But if you're throughly mortify'd, and find
No inclination left for womankind,
Yet grow not proud upon't, nor those accuse,
Who court those sensual pleasures you refuse;
Nor boast your virtue such, that you defy
The weak attractions of a pleasing eye;
That you, forsooth, are cold as Scythian ice;
For boasting is a most intemp'rate vice,
Not worse the wanton sport that you despise.
No, 'tis the leach'ry of the mind, for which
There's no excuse of flesh and blood, an itch
Of being prais'd, which rather than you'll want,
Ev'n you yourself are you own sycophant.
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