Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 2.1

It is said that Alexander, while still a lad, was once conversing with Philip his father about Homer in a very manly and lofty strain, their conversation being in effect a discussion of kingship as well. 

For Alexander was already to be found with his father on his campaigns, although Philip tried to discourage him in this. Alexander, however, could not hold himself in, for it was with the lad as with young dogs of fine breed that cannot brook being left behind when their masters go hunting, but follow along, often breaking their tethers to do so. 

It is true that sometimes, because of their youth and enthusiasm, they spoil the sport by barking and starting the game too soon, but sometimes too they bring down the game themselves by bounding ahead. This, in fact, happened to Alexander at the very beginning, so that they say he brought about the battle and victory of Chaeronea​ when his father shrank from taking the risk. 

Now it was on this occasion, when they were at Dium in Pieria on their way home from the campaign and were sacrifi­cing to the Muses and celebrating the Olympic festival,​ which is said to be an ancient institution in that country, that Philip in the course of their conversation put this question to Alexander: "Why, my son, have you become so infatuated with Homer that you devote yourself to him alone of all the poets? You really ought not to neglect the others, for the men are wise." 

And Alexander replied: "My reason, father, is that not all poetry, any more than every style of dress, is appropriate to a king, as it seems to me. Now consider the poems of other men; some I consider to be suitable indeed for the banquet, or for love, or for the eulogy of victorious athletes or horses, or as dirges for the dead, and some as designed to excite laughter or ridicule, like the works of the comic writers and those of the Parian poet.​ 

"And perhaps some of them might be called popular also, in that they give advice and admonition to the masses and to private citizens, as, for instance, the works of Phocylides and Theognis do. What is there in them by which a man could profit, who, like you or me,

aspires to be

The master, over all to domineer. 

"The poetry of Homer, however, I look upon as alone truly noble and lofty and suited to a king, worthy of the attention of a real man, particularly if he expects to rule over all the peoples of the earth—or at any rate over most of them, and those the most prominent—if he is to be, in the strict sense of the term, what Homer calls a 'shepherd of the people.'​ 

"Or would it not be absurd for a king to refuse to use any horse but the best and yet, when it is a question of poets, to read the poorer ones as though he had nothing else to do? On my word, father, I not only cannot endure to hear any other poet recited but Homer, but even object to any other meter than Homer's heroic hexameter." 

Wisdom from the Early Cynics, Diogenes 32

Good men Diogenes called images of the gods, and love the business of the idle. 

To the question what is wretched in life he replied, "An old man destitute." 

Being asked what creature's bite is the worst, he said, "Of those that are wild, a sycophant's; of those that are tame, a flatterer's." 

Upon seeing two centaurs very badly painted, he asked, "Which of these is Chiron, the worse?" 

Ingratiating speech he compared to honey used to choke you. 

The stomach he called livelihood's Charybdis. 

Hearing a report that Didymon the flute-player had been caught in adultery, his comment was, "His name alone is sufficient to hang him." 

To the question why gold is pale, his reply was, "Because it has so many thieves plotting against it." 

On seeing a woman carried in a litter, he remarked that the cage was not in keeping with the quarry. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 6.51 

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 72

Again, the good are genuinely in earnest and vigilant for their own improvement, using a manner of life which banishes evil out of sight and makes what good there is in things appear. 

At the same time they are free from pretense; for they have stripped off all pretense or "make-up" whether in voice or in look. 

Free too are they from all business cares, declining to do anything which conflicts with duty. 

They will take wine, but not get drunk. 

Nay more, they will not be liable to madness either; not but what there will at times occur to the good man strange impressions due to melancholy or delirium, ideas not determined by the principle of what is choiceworthy but contrary to nature. 

Nor indeed will the wise man ever feel grief; seeing that grief is irrational contraction of the soul, as Apollodorus says in his Ethics. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.118 

IMAGE: Jan Roos, Narcissus at the Spring (c. 1620) 

Songs of Innocence 2

The Shepherd (1789) 

William Blake (1757-1827) 

How sweet is the Shepherds sweet lot
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise. 

For he hears the lambs innocent call,
And he hears the ewes tender reply.
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 72.6

Therefore, considering the great difference between those on the heights and those in the depths, and seeing that even those in the middle are pursued by an ebb and flow peculiar to their state and pursued also by an enormous risk of returning to their degenerate ways, we should not give ourselves up to matters which occupy our time. 
 
They should be shut out; if they once gain an entrance, they will bring in still others to take their places. Let us resist them in their early stages. It is better that they shall never begin than that they shall be made to cease. Farewell. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 72 
 
What would the world be like if we spent far less time on the business of making money, and far more time on the philosophy of building the virtues? It is so tempting to daydream about an ideal society, singing along to some rousing tune about universal solidarity. 
 
And then I remember that while Providence gazes at us from the top down, she always does her work from the bottom up. It is fitting to appreciate the bigger picture, but my first responsibility is to improve myself, for the harmony of the whole is only achieved by the actions of the particular parts. If I wish to change the world, let me begin by putting my own house in order. 
 
How could it be otherwise? As creatures of reason and will, our deeds will proceed from our personal judgments, not from any grand abstractions about politics, economics, or sociology. A man is free, not a machine. Some will choose to strive for wisdom, and others will choose to remain in ignorance, and a good number will also struggle in that dreadful gray area, hesitant to commit. 
 
Find the sort of individual person you wish to be, and take your stand, and then you will have made your mark. You will be cooperating with Providence either way, for all things are ultimately in service to the good, but in one case you will cooperate in joy and in peace, and in another case you will be little more than a foil, dragged along while kicking and screaming. 
 
A man who is continually at the mercy of his circumstances may feel elated at one moment, and then despondent the next, simply because he has failed to establish his measure, to be anchored by the stability of his character. Happiness flows from a constancy of moral purpose, something that the chaos of worldly business can never provide, being so entangled in avarice, deception, and manipulation. 
 
So, if I desire to fix anything at all, I am called to fix myself. Perhaps another will take inspiration, and then he might fix himself as well. Perhaps another will take offense, and then I might have all the more opportunity to put my money where my mouth is. I only know that my first job is to become a good man, not to become a rich man. 

—Reflection written in 9/2013 

Cosmos 12

The Continence of Scipio 4

Pompeo Batoni, The Continence of Scipio (c. 1772) 

Dhammapada 391

Him I call indeed a Brahmana who does not offend by body, word, or thought, and is controlled on these three points. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 72.5

Attalus used to employ the following simile: 
 
"Did you ever see a dog snapping with wide-open jaws at bits of bread or meat which his master tosses to him? Whatever he catches, he straightway swallows whole, and always opens his jaws in the hope of something more. 
 
“So it is with ourselves; we stand expectant, and whatever Fortune has thrown to us we forthwith bolt, without any real pleasure, and then stand alert and frantic for something else to snatch." 
 
But it is not so with the wise man; he is satisfied. Even if something falls to him, he merely accepts it carelessly and lays it aside. 
 
The happiness that he enjoys is supremely great, is lasting, is his own. Assume that a man has good intentions, and has made progress, but is still far from the heights: the result is a series of ups and downs; he is now raised to heaven, now brought down to earth. 
 
For those who lack experience and training, there is no limit to the downhill course; such a one falls into the Chaos of Epicurus—empty and boundless. 
 
There is still a third class of men—those who toy with wisdom; they have not indeed touched it, but yet are in sight of it, and have it, so to speak, within striking distance. They are not dashed about, nor do they drift back either; they are not on dry land, but are already in port. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 72 
 
What usually passes for business, without much reflection, is little more than the accumulation of profit. Philosophy, of course, is given no consideration whatsoever, because when have wisdom or virtue ever increased our wealth, fame, or gratification? Observe very carefully where a man places his priorities, and you will learn fairly quickly whether he is guided by character or by convenience, ruled by love or by lust. 
 
The poor dog cannot help himself, and he depends on receiving proper training from his master, but a man can most certainly help himself, since his reason grants him the power to be his own master. It is natural for the former to be determined by his instincts alone, while it is unnatural for the latter to act without the direction of understanding. 
 
I do wish the writings of Attalus had survived, for one can clearly sense the profound impact his teachings had on Seneca. I suspect he was a bit rougher around the edges than his more refined student, perhaps a kindred spirit to Musonius Rufus, and I can immediately relate to his example of the human devolving into the bestial. I know exactly how it feels to be enslaved by the mindless desire to consume, a craving that can sadly never come to any completion. 
 
Once I define myself by grasping for external satisfaction, I have trapped myself in an endless cycle of wanting ever more and more, since nothing from Fortune can fulfill the internal perfection of Nature. A surefire sign of this obsession is my constant need to consume voraciously, without any appreciation or joy, and quickly move on the next conquest. How could it ever be enough, when I am attempting to satisfy an essential need with some accidental greed? 
 
If, however, it is truly mine, then nothing can ever be added, and nothing can ever be taken away. Some will see the wise man, and because of their own grasping habits, will assume that he is cold and unfeeling. No, he is at peace with himself, and so he does not clamor for treats and trinkets: he understands why his vocation is to be human, not to be a hustler. 
 
If I continue to be tossed about by my circumstances, I have failed to know myself, remaining focused on business instead of philosophy. Even when some progress has been made in self-awareness, there will be that intensely frustrating state of standing “in between”, convinced in part of a need for a radical transformation, but still hesitant to take the final step. I must not permit this to let me relapse into my mindless habits—the difficulty is itself a mark of improvement, which cannot be achieved without growing pains. 
 
I am not yet wise, though I have perceived just enough of the benefits from wisdom that I am no longer a mere brute, that I am called to so much more. Courage! 

—Reflection written in 9/2013 

Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 35

Aspirants to honor and distinction derived similar help from Socrates, who in each case stimulated in them a persevering assiduity towards their several aims, as the following narratives tend to show. 

He had heard on one occasion of the arrival in Athens of Dionysodorus, who professed to teach the whole duty of a general. Accordingly he remarked to one of those who were with him—a young man whose anxiety to obtain the office of Strategos was no secret to him: 

Socrates: "It would be monstrous on the part of any one who sought to become a general to throw away the slightest opportunity of learning the duties of the office. Such a person, I should say, would deserve to be fined and punished by the state far more than the charlatan who without having learnt the art of a sculptor undertakes a contract to carve a statue. 

"Considering that the whole fortunes of the state are entrusted to the general during a war, with all its incidental peril, it is only reasonable to anticipate that great blessings or great misfortunes will result in proportion to the success or bungling of that officer. 

"I appeal to you, young sir, do you not agree that a candidate who, while taking pains to be elected neglects to learn the duties of the office, would richly deserve to be fined?" 

With arguments like these he persuaded the young man to go and take lessons. After he had gone through the course he came back, and Socrates proceeded playfully to banter him. 

Socrates: "Behold our young friend, sirs, as Homer says of Agamemnon, of mein majestical, so he; does he not seem to move more majestically, like one who has studied to be a general? 

"Of course, just as a man who has learned to play the harp is a harper, even if he never touch the instrument, or as one who has studied medicine is a physician, though he does not practice, so our friend here from this time forward is now and ever shall be a general, even though he does not receive a vote at the elections. But the dunce who has not the science is neither general nor doctor, no, not even if the whole world appointed him. 

"But," he proceeded, turning to the youth, "in case any of us should ever find ourselves captain or colonel under you, to give us some smattering of the science of war, what did the professor take as the starting-point of his instruction in generalship? Please inform us." 

Then the young man: "He began where he ended; he taught me tactics—tactics and nothing else." 

"Yet surely,"replied Socrates, "that is only an infinitesimal part of generalship. A general must be ready in furnishing the material of war: in providing the commissariat for his troops; quick in devices, he must be full of practical resource; nothing must escape his eye or tax his endurance; he must be shrewd, and ready of wit, a combination at once of clemency and fierceness, of simplicity and of insidious craft; he must play the part of watchman, of robber; now prodigal as a spendthrift, and again close-fisted as a miser, the bounty of his munificence must be equalled by the narrowness of his greed; impregnable in defense, a very daredevil in attack—these and many other qualities must he possess who is to make a good general and minister of war; they must come to him by gift of nature or through science. 

"No doubt it is a grand thing also to be a tactician, since there is all the difference in the world between an army properly handled in the field and the same in disorder; just as stones and bricks, woodwork and tiles, tumbled together in a heap are of no use at all, but arrange them in a certain order—at bottom and atop materials which will not crumble or rot, such as stones and earthen tiles, and in the middle between the two put bricks and woodwork, with an eye to architectural principle, and finally you get a valuable possession—to wit, a dwelling-place." 

"The simile is very apt, Socrates," replied the youth, "for in battle, too, the rule is to draw up the best men in front and rear, with those of inferior quality between, where they may be led on by the former and pushed on by the hinder." 

Socrates: "Very good, no doubt, if the professor taught you to distinguish good and bad; but if not, where is the use of your learning? It would scarcely help you, would it, to be told to arrange coins in piles, the best coins at top and bottom and the worst in the middle, unless you were first taught to distinguish real from counterfeit." 

The Youth: "Well no, upon my word, he did not teach us that, so that the task of distinguishing between good and bad must devolve on ourselves." 

Socrates: "Well, shall we see, then, how we may best avoid making blunders between them?" 

"I am ready," replied the youth. 

Socrates: "Well then! Let us suppose we are marauders, and the task imposed upon us is to carry off some bullion; it will be a right disposition of our forces if we place in the vanguard those who are the greediest of gain?" 

The Youth: "I should think so." 

Socrates: "Then what if there is danger to be faced? Shall the vanguard consist of men who are greediest of honor?" 

The Youth: "It is these, at any rate, who will face danger for the sake of praise and glory. Fortunately such people are not hid away in a corner; they shine forth conspicuous everywhere, and are easy to be discovered." 

Socrates: "But tell me, did he teach you how to draw up troops in general, or specifically where and how to apply each particular kind of tactical arrangement?" 

The Youth: "Nothing of the sort." 

Socrates: "And yet there are and must be innumerable circumstances in which the same ordering of march or battle will be out of place." 

The Youth: "I assure you he did not draw any of these fine distinctions." 

"He did not, did not he?" he answered. "Bless me! Go back to him again, then, and ply him with questions; if he really has the science, and is not lost to all sense of shame, he will blush to have taken your money and then to have sent you away empty." 

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 3.1 

Man's Search for Meaning 11

Apathy, the blunting of the emotions and the feeling that one could not care any more, were the symptoms arising during the second stage of the prisoner's psychological reactions, and which eventually made him insensitive to daily and hourly beatings. By means of this insensibility the prisoner soon surrounded himself with a very necessary protective shell. 

Beatings occurred on the slightest provocation, sometimes for no reason at all. 

For example, bread was rationed out at our work site and we had to line up for it. Once, the man behind me stood off a little to one side and that lack of symmetry displeased the SS guard. I did not know what was going on in the line behind me, nor in the mind of the SS guard, but suddenly I received two sharp blows on my head. Only then did I spot the guard at my side who was using his stick. 

At such a moment it is not the physical pain which hurts the most (and this applies to adults as much as to punished children); it is the mental agony caused by the injustice, the unreasonableness of it all.

Strangely enough, a blow which does not even find its mark can, under certain circumstances, hurt more than one that finds its mark. Once I was standing on a railway track in a snowstorm. In spite of the weather our party had to keep on working. I worked quite hard at mending the track with gravel, since that was the only way to keep warm. For only one moment I paused to get my breath and to lean on my shovel. 

Unfortunately the guard turned around just then and thought I was loafing. The pain he caused me was not from any insults or any blows. That guard did not think it worth his while to say anything, not even a swear word, to the ragged, emaciated figure standing before him, which probably reminded him only vaguely of a human form. Instead, he playfully picked up a stone and threw it at me. 

That, to me, seemed the way to attract the attention of a beast, to call a domestic animal back to its job, a creature with which you have so little in common that you do not even punish it.

The most painful part of beatings is the insult which they imply. At one time we had to carry some long, heavy girders over icy tracks. If one man slipped, he endangered not only himself but all the others who carried the same girder. 

An old friend of mine had a congenitally dislocated hip. He was glad to be capable of working in spite of it, since the physically disabled were almost certainly sent to death when a selection took place. He limped over the track with an especially heavy girder, and seemed about to fall and drag the others with him. 

As yet, I was not carrying a girder so I jumped to his assistance without stopping to think. I was immediately hit on the back, rudely reprimanded and ordered to return to my place. A few minutes previously the same guard who struck me had told us deprecatingly that we "pigs" lacked the spirit of comradeship. 

—from Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning 

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 166

The tyrant can hardly be said to hold even a doubtful sway. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 72.4

The difference, I say, between a man of perfect wisdom and another who is progressing in wisdom is the same as the difference between a healthy man and one who is convalescing from a severe and lingering illness, for whom "health" means only a lighter attack of his disease. 

 

If the latter does not take heed, there is an immediate relapse and a return to the same old trouble; but the wise man cannot slip back, or slip into any more illness at all. 

 

For health of body is a temporary matter which the physician cannot guarantee, even though he has restored it; nay, he is often roused from his bed to visit the same patient who summoned him before. The mind, however, once healed, is healed for good and all. 

 

I shall tell you what I mean by health: if the mind is content with its own self; if it has confidence in itself; if it understands that all those things for which men pray, all the benefits which are bestowed and sought for, are of no importance in relation to a life of happiness; under such conditions it is sound. 

 

For anything that can be added to is imperfect; anything that can suffer loss is not lasting; but let the man whose happiness is to be lasting, rejoice in what is truly his own. 

 

Now all that which the crowd gapes after, ebbs and flows. Fortune gives us nothing which we can really own. But even these gifts of Fortune please us when reason has tempered and blended them to our taste; for it is reason which makes acceptable to us even external goods that are disagreeable to use if we absorb them too greedily. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 72 

 

When I was still a young pup, my mother made a point of keeping me home from school for at least one extra day after I had overcome a fever, to make certain I could build up my strength. This annoyed the teachers to no end, since they were enslaved by their lesson plans, and any absence would make a mess of their sacred statistics, but she wouldn’t budge, insisting that health mattered far more than bureaucracy. 

 

When I later became a teacher, I noticed how students were far too careless about getting sick, and so they all spent much the of the year in sort of a state of semi-illness, never quite recovered, and forever prone to the next wave of infections, because they had actually lost sight of what it even meant to be healthy. One half of the room was always sniffling, while the other half was always coughing. 

 

I must never confuse feeling a “bit better” with being cured, and that applies to the spirit as much as it does to the flesh. All too often, I have made the slightest bit of progress, and then hastily assumed that the work was done, only to find myself right back where I started, and perhaps in an even worse place, on account of the shame I felt from my failure. Once bitten, twice shy. 

 

Health is not being free from obstacles, but rather possessing the capacity to cope with obstacles, and so just as the body resists a disease, so the mind overcomes its circumstances. The relapse is unfortunately a sign that the work was not complete, when the expectation has rushed ahead of the reality, and the careful discipline of preparation is the best remedy against disappointment. 

 

I know all too well how the body is continually subject to corruption, and so I will be inclined to believe that the mind must be just the same, yet I am forgetting how the soul is subject only to its own judgments, as long as it remains firm in its own convictions. While disease may slowly but surely take hold of what is on the outside, a man has the power to remain invincible on the inside, according to his choice. 

 

This is why the “Stoic Sage” is not some figment of the imagination—nothing can hinder him except himself. He will face hardships, and he will confront temptations, and he will be racked with doubts, while through it all he knows that he can rise above anything Fortune might throw his way. 

 

Even as his flesh gives way, he remains constant in the virtues, thereby possessing a complete moral health. He knows who he is, in his very nature, and why no one can ever take that away from him. 

—Reflection written in 9/2013

The Hermit

Alexander Rothaug, The Hermit (c. 1910) 

Maxims of Goethe 58

Forethought is simple, afterthought manifold. 

Howard Jones, Dream into Action 14

"Like to Get to Know You Well" was actually a stand-alone single released in 1984, only later included on the US version of Dream into Action, and as a CD bonus track for the UK edition. Some may also remember it from the soundtrack to Better Off Dead, one of my favorite 1980's screwball comedies. 

It serves as an ideal ending point to these little reflections, because it so perfectly exemplifies that signature HoJo optimism. I have rarely found anything to come close without falling into a fake sentimentalism, and I suspect it is precisely because Jones so deeply means the message that he can come off as genuine. 

The record was "dedicated to the original spirit of the Olympic Games", yet I remember being disappointed with the 1984 event in Los Angeles. This probably had more to do with the fact that I was growing up, and I was finally noticing all the shiftiness in the marketing, but my special disappointment with the nasty way the media covered Zola Budd, one of my heroes, left an especially bad taste in my mouth. 

And still, Jones would surely tell me to respond to the bitterness with all the more love, and to offer total friendship, however great the distance between us. That is why his positivity has remained a beacon in my life now for over two decades. 

—5/2007 

A few words of commentary from Howard Jones: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWLnCPDCbQ0&list=OLAK5uy_mN2Ly6tKSy0y1d0klY_kza9FHOfbzzJ5E&index=27 

And the song itself: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqF1P8Khnmw&list=OLAK5uy_mN2Ly6tKSy0y1d0klY_kza9FHOfbzzJ5E&index=28 

Howard Jones, "Like to Get to Know You Well" from Dream into Action (1985) 

Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
So we can be one
We can be one together

Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
So we can be one
We can be one together

Together we can cast away the fear
Together we can wipe away the tear
Together we can strip down the barriers
And be one

Don't wanna talk about the weather
Don't wanna talk about the news
Just wanna get to the real you inside

Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
So we can be one
We can be one together

Don't you think now is the time
We should be feelin'
Just wanna simply say
Won't let you slip away

People wanna talk about the future
Don't wanna linger on the past
Just wanna reach to the real you inside
Forget cold glances and rejections
Leave the things that separate
Build on a trust that we can stand on

Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
So we can be one
We can be one together

Finding all are insecure
Opening the same door
Leaving out a stubborn pride
Seeing from another side

Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
Like to get to know you well
So we can be one
We can be one together

Jones continued on a major label for a number of years after this, and he found a niche in a more "adult contemporary" market as his fans grew up. I still bought his albums, and listened to all the songs, but the old magic wasn't quite there for me anymore, and so I wasn't surprised when he finally went into a sort of semi-retirement after his contract expired. 

I do, however, cherish two special tracks from this time, of the sort only Jones could pull off, that played a role in the courtship of my wife, and so I value them almost as much as the first two albums: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWPhbwYQlB0 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ql9IC5T1Awo 

Only recently, I was pleased to hear one of Jones' occasional self-produced projects, and I came across a song that brought me all the way back to the beginning, proof that the man had never lost it, and, more importantly, that the spark of joy was still alive inside of me. Mr. Jones had played a major part in making sure the fire never died. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yj6eAOQHzxs 

Delphic Maxims 67

Γάμους κράτει 

Master wedding feasts 

IMAGE: Denys Calvaert, The Wedding at Cana (c. 1600) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 72.3

We must resist the affairs which occupy our time; they must not be untangled, but rather put out of the way. Indeed, there is no time that is unsuitable for helpful studies; and yet many a man fails to study amid the very circumstances which make study necessary. 
 
He says: "Something will happen to hinder me." 
 
No, not in the case of the man whose spirit, no matter what his business may be, is happy and alert. It is those who are still short of perfection whose happiness can be broken off; the joy of a wise man, on the other hand, is a woven fabric, rent by no chance happening and by no change of fortune; at all times and in all places he is at peace. 
 
For his joy depends on nothing external and looks for no boon from man or fortune. His happiness is something within himself; it would depart from his soul if it entered in from the outside; it is born there. 
 
Sometimes an external happening reminds him of his mortality, but it is a light blow, and merely grazes the surface of his skin. Some trouble, I repeat, may touch him like a breath of wind, but that Supreme Good of his is unshaken. 
 
This is what I mean: there are external disadvantages, like pimples and boils that break out upon a body which is normally strong and sound; but there is no deep-seated malady. 

—from Seneca, On Peace of Mind 72 
 
We may assume that pragmatism demands a stress on the action, with a little time left over for some contemplation during the lulls in business, and yet this actually ends up being quite an unrealistic view of life. 
 
No, the mind is constantly aware, so that the only question is whether our knowledge is sound or unsound, critical or lazy; the doing is constantly informed by the thinking, the hands being guided by a sense of meaning and purpose, for better or for worse. 
 
I’m afraid that when “study” has become some sort of afterthought, as if I were cramming the night before the exam, or is reduced to a mere indulgence, tacked on for when it is convenient, I am sorely confused about who I am. 
 
I need mindfulness at all times and in all things, to provide the very merit to those deeds, just as the attentive driver remembers to never take his hands from the wheel. I appreciate this image more and more, as I observe my fellow commuters on the road of life diverted by mobile phones, newspapers, or the consumption of elaborate meals. 
 
My anxiety about what may or may not happen, and my sense of surprise when I slam into the car in front of me, are a consequence of my carelessness. Indeed, I can hardly predict the vagaries of fortune, and yet I always have it within my power to prepare myself, and to rely upon the strength of my own virtues. That I fret over the circumstances is proof of how I have failed to rightly distinguish the good from the bad. 
 
Back in college, I would have sudden attacks of eczema, which were sometimes so severe that my face was transformed into a swollen, burning mess. I was already sensitive enough about my appearance, and this would drive me to despair about going out in public. The doctors never seemed to figure it out, and it eventually went away of its own accord, but the image remains with me as a lesson about priorities. 
 
As Seneca says, the shell on the outside is being battered, while the dignity and the beauty on the inside can still remain constant; do what you will with the body, and the soul may shine all the more. I now think back to the feeling of that itching skin as a symbol of how a steady state of reflection is the key to a peace of mind. 

—Reflection written in 9/2013 

IMAGE: William Blake, Satan Smiting Job with Boils (1821) 

The Treehouse of Adulthood

 

One Life

Day Jobs of the Poets

The Hierarchy of Humor

Michael Leunig 67

Michael Leunig 66

 

Michael Leunig 65

Michael Leunig 64

How Is Your Heart?

"How Is Your Heart?" 

Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) 

During my worst times on the park benches, in the jails, or living with whores, I always had this certain contentment— I wouldn't call it happiness— it was more of an inner balance that settled for whatever was occurring and it helped in the factories and when relationships went wrong with the girls. It helped through the wars, and the hangovers, the back alley fights, the hospitals. To awaken in a cheap room in a strange city and pull up the shade— this was the craziest kind of contentment. And to walk across the floor to an old dresser with a cracked mirror— see myself, ugly, grinning at it all. What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.

Stobaeus on Stoic Ethics 11

Consistently with this, the Stoics hold also that the wise man acts with good sense, and dialectically and sympotically and erotically; but the erotic man is so called in two senses, the one who is virtuous and gets his quality from virtue, and the one who is blamed, who gets his quality from vice—a sort of sex fiend. . . . 

And being worthy of sexual love means the same as being worthy of friendship, and not the same as being worthy of being enjoyed; for he who is worthy of virtuous sexual love is properly worthy of sexual love. 

They understand virtue exercised at a symposium as similar to virtue in sexual matters, the one being knowledge that is concerned with what is appropriate at a symposium, namely, of how one should run symposia and how one should drink at them; and the other is knowledge of how to hunt for talented young boys, which encourages them to virtuous knowledge, and in general, knowledge of proper sexual activity. 

That is why they say that the sensible man will engage in sexual activity. And sexual activity just by itself is an indifferent, since at times it also occurs among base men. But sexual love is not desire, nor is it directed at any base object, but is an effort to gain friendship resulting from the appearance of beauty. 

Buckaroo Banzai

I have an entire essay, written some years ago, about how Buckaroo Banzai, one of the weirdest of cult films, has remained a steady anchor in my life. 

I fear the reflection insists upon itself too much, as they say, so I will not ask you to suffer through it. 

Instead, I simply offer you the scene from the end credits, where my favorite characters, all of them complete genius freaks, go for a little walk. 

These are the sorts of friends I always wanted to have. . . .