We must pass judgment concerning great matters with greatness of soul; otherwise, that which is really our fault will seem to be their fault.
So it is that certain objects which are perfectly straight, when sunk in water appear to the onlooker as bent or broken off. It matters not only what you see, but with what eyes you see it; our souls are too dull of vision to perceive the truth.
But give me an unspoiled and sturdy-minded young man; he will pronounce more fortunate one who sustains on unbending shoulders the whole weight of adversity, who stands out superior to Fortune. It is not a cause for wonder that one is not tossed about when the weather is calm; reserve your wonderment for cases where a man is lifted up when all others sink, and keeps his footing when all others are prostrate.
What element of evil is there in torture and in the other things which we call hardships? It seems to me that there is this evil—that the mind sags, and bends, and collapses.
But none of these things can happen to the sage; he stands erect under any load. Nothing can subdue him; nothing that must be endured annoys him. For he does not complain that he has been struck by that which can strike any man. He knows his own strength; he knows that he was born to carry burdens.
I do not withdraw the wise man from the category of man, nor do I deny to him the sense of pain as though he were a rock that has no feelings at all.
I remember that he is made up of two parts: the one part is irrational—it is this that may be bitten, burned, or hurt; the other part is rational—it is this which holds resolutely to opinions, is courageous, and unconquerable. In the latter is situated man's Supreme Good. Before this is completely attained, the mind wavers in uncertainty; only when it is fully achieved is the mind fixed and steady.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 71
Though I obviously did not always take it to heart, I was still raised with a sense that greatness was within the qualities of the soul, and so I possessed a certain resistance to the status quo of a secular and consumer society. When they told me I needed to acquire as much power and influence as possible, I had a hunch that something was seriously amiss.
If I am ever to improve myself, I must look behind the immediate impressions. Things present themselves according to their own natures, and yet my judgments about them are often distorted. When they told me I could never find a certainty beyond my doubts, I knew I had to work on how I went about actively seeing, and to stop blaming the world for being unintelligible or unfair.
So, at that moment when I suppose that success involves getting my ducks in a row, I will remember why it is actually about getting my thoughts in a row. “Winning” riches and fame is hardly an achievement, when compared with a willingness to endure hardship for the sake of character. The former is about hiding behind the circumstances, while the latter is about rising above the circumstances.
We usually say that a man has “failed” when he is subject to poverty, disease, or obscurity. I will rather insist that the victory depends upon maintaining his integrity, regardless of the conditions, and you will quickly recognize virtue or vice by his responses to fortune.
I regularly hear scholars arguing over whether the true Stoic “sage” can actually exist, or if he is just a fictional ideal. I am wary of judging folks too quickly, but I suspect I have known a few people who have at least come quite close, if not fit the role completely. The mistake is in assuming that a sage will be absolutely perfect in every way, when it is only necessary for him to have the upper hand over his worst instincts.
The sage will feel just as intensely as the intemperate man, and perhaps even more intensely. He will continue to make mistakes, and be subject to quirks and whims, but he will employ all events as opportunities for improvement—in this he will remain constant, by uniting his understanding to his actions.
Though I obviously did not always take it to heart, I was still raised with a sense that greatness was within the qualities of the soul, and so I possessed a certain resistance to the status quo of a secular and consumer society. When they told me I needed to acquire as much power and influence as possible, I had a hunch that something was seriously amiss.
If I am ever to improve myself, I must look behind the immediate impressions. Things present themselves according to their own natures, and yet my judgments about them are often distorted. When they told me I could never find a certainty beyond my doubts, I knew I had to work on how I went about actively seeing, and to stop blaming the world for being unintelligible or unfair.
So, at that moment when I suppose that success involves getting my ducks in a row, I will remember why it is actually about getting my thoughts in a row. “Winning” riches and fame is hardly an achievement, when compared with a willingness to endure hardship for the sake of character. The former is about hiding behind the circumstances, while the latter is about rising above the circumstances.
We usually say that a man has “failed” when he is subject to poverty, disease, or obscurity. I will rather insist that the victory depends upon maintaining his integrity, regardless of the conditions, and you will quickly recognize virtue or vice by his responses to fortune.
I regularly hear scholars arguing over whether the true Stoic “sage” can actually exist, or if he is just a fictional ideal. I am wary of judging folks too quickly, but I suspect I have known a few people who have at least come quite close, if not fit the role completely. The mistake is in assuming that a sage will be absolutely perfect in every way, when it is only necessary for him to have the upper hand over his worst instincts.
The sage will feel just as intensely as the intemperate man, and perhaps even more intensely. He will continue to make mistakes, and be subject to quirks and whims, but he will employ all events as opportunities for improvement—in this he will remain constant, by uniting his understanding to his actions.
Socrates or Diogenes were surely frustrating fellows, and they must have seemed rather troublesome to those in comfortable places. While they may not always have been agreeable, they always endeavored to be good, seeking wisdom in all things, and that is what I will call a sage, a man who is impervious to harm as long as he puts his mind to it.
—Reflection written in 9/2013
IMAGE: Giovanni Benedetto Castiglione, The Fable of Diogenes, Looking with a Lantern for a Good Man (c. 1650)
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