I now return to the advice which I set out to give you—that you keep your retirement in the background. There is no need to fasten a placard upon yourself with the words: "Philosopher and Quietist." Give your purpose some other name; call it ill-health and bodily weakness, or mere laziness. To boast of our retirement is but idle self-seeking.
Certain animals hide themselves from discovery by confusing the marks of their footprints in the neighborhood of their lairs. You should do the same. Otherwise, there will always be someone dogging your footsteps.
Many men pass by that which is visible, and peer after things hidden and concealed; a locked room invites the thief. Things which lie in the open appear cheap; the housebreaker passes by that which is exposed to view. This is the way of the world, and the way of all ignorant men: they crave to burst in upon hidden things. It is therefore best not to vaunt one's retirement.
It is, however, a sort of vaunting to make too much of one's concealment and of one's withdrawal from the sight of men. So-and-so has gone into his retreat at Tarentum; that other man has shut himself up at Naples; this third person for many years has not crossed the threshold of his own house. To advertise one's retirement is to collect a crowd.
Certain animals hide themselves from discovery by confusing the marks of their footprints in the neighborhood of their lairs. You should do the same. Otherwise, there will always be someone dogging your footsteps.
Many men pass by that which is visible, and peer after things hidden and concealed; a locked room invites the thief. Things which lie in the open appear cheap; the housebreaker passes by that which is exposed to view. This is the way of the world, and the way of all ignorant men: they crave to burst in upon hidden things. It is therefore best not to vaunt one's retirement.
It is, however, a sort of vaunting to make too much of one's concealment and of one's withdrawal from the sight of men. So-and-so has gone into his retreat at Tarentum; that other man has shut himself up at Naples; this third person for many years has not crossed the threshold of his own house. To advertise one's retirement is to collect a crowd.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 68
Though they will tell you that you must improve your worth by always increasing your influence and standing, you are in no way obliged to play the game. Their notions of success are not about your own dignity, but they would rather reduce you to a creature of mere appearances, constantly tossed back and forth by the opinions of others. If it is truly the right thing to do, then do it for its own sake, without any worries about winning or losing anyone’s approval.
To retire from such a rat race is a blessing, not a curse. With apologies to Timothy Leary, by “dropping out” of the charade, you are finally “tuning in” to your nature. No mind-altering drugs or noisy politics are required, however, which would just be another surrender to fashion; it is more than sufficient to calmly and quietly rebuild your basic values from the ground up.
The trick, as Seneca points out, is precisely in not making a scene about leaving the scene. Those who are ill at ease with themselves are inclined to poke into your business, and they can be quite clever about digging up the dirt they so crave—do not oblige them. Be content to cover your tracks, going your own way, on your own terms. If it is attention you crave, gently rebuke yourself for continuing to have your wires crossed.
Observe how easy it is twist humility into vanity, to still desire recognition for our anonymity. Celebrities insist that they wish to be left alone, and yet they yell it out through the megaphone of their fame, daring us to gaze upon them. In high school, I once hid away from everyone for a whole week, and I was then disappointed when no one came searching for me. Someone who remains very dear to me makes a point of dramatically looking the other way when she passes by, and so is hoping to be noticed by pretending not to care.
The path to authentic action demands ceasing to put on an act.
Though they will tell you that you must improve your worth by always increasing your influence and standing, you are in no way obliged to play the game. Their notions of success are not about your own dignity, but they would rather reduce you to a creature of mere appearances, constantly tossed back and forth by the opinions of others. If it is truly the right thing to do, then do it for its own sake, without any worries about winning or losing anyone’s approval.
To retire from such a rat race is a blessing, not a curse. With apologies to Timothy Leary, by “dropping out” of the charade, you are finally “tuning in” to your nature. No mind-altering drugs or noisy politics are required, however, which would just be another surrender to fashion; it is more than sufficient to calmly and quietly rebuild your basic values from the ground up.
The trick, as Seneca points out, is precisely in not making a scene about leaving the scene. Those who are ill at ease with themselves are inclined to poke into your business, and they can be quite clever about digging up the dirt they so crave—do not oblige them. Be content to cover your tracks, going your own way, on your own terms. If it is attention you crave, gently rebuke yourself for continuing to have your wires crossed.
Observe how easy it is twist humility into vanity, to still desire recognition for our anonymity. Celebrities insist that they wish to be left alone, and yet they yell it out through the megaphone of their fame, daring us to gaze upon them. In high school, I once hid away from everyone for a whole week, and I was then disappointed when no one came searching for me. Someone who remains very dear to me makes a point of dramatically looking the other way when she passes by, and so is hoping to be noticed by pretending not to care.
The path to authentic action demands ceasing to put on an act.
—Reflection written in 8/2013
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