All these things, however, can be easily endured—gruel, warm water, and anything else that seems insupportable to a fastidious man, to one who is wallowing in luxury, sick in soul rather than in body—if only we cease to shudder at death.
And we shall cease, if once we have gained a knowledge of the limits of good and evil; then, and then only, life will not weary us, neither will death make us afraid. For surfeit of self can never seize upon a life that surveys all the things which are manifold, great, divine; only idle leisure is wont to make men hate their lives.
To one who roams through the Universe, the truth can never pall; it will be the untruths that will cloy. And, on the other hand, if death comes near with its summons, even though it be untimely in its arrival, though it cut one off in one’s prime, a man has had a taste of all that the longest life can give.
Such a man has in great measure come to understand the Universe. He knows that honorable things do not depend on time for their growth; but any life must seem short to those who measure its length by pleasures which are empty and for that reason unbounded.
Refresh yourself with such thoughts as these, and meanwhile reserve some hours for our letters. There will come a time when we shall be united again and brought together; however short this time may be, we shall make it long by knowing how to employ it.
For, as Posidonius says: “A single day among the learned lasts longer than the longest life of the ignorant.”
Meanwhile, hold fast to this thought, and grip it close: yield not to adversity; trust not to prosperity; keep before your eyes the full scope of Fortune’s power, as if she would surely do whatever is in her power to do. That which has been long expected comes more gently. Farewell.
And we shall cease, if once we have gained a knowledge of the limits of good and evil; then, and then only, life will not weary us, neither will death make us afraid. For surfeit of self can never seize upon a life that surveys all the things which are manifold, great, divine; only idle leisure is wont to make men hate their lives.
To one who roams through the Universe, the truth can never pall; it will be the untruths that will cloy. And, on the other hand, if death comes near with its summons, even though it be untimely in its arrival, though it cut one off in one’s prime, a man has had a taste of all that the longest life can give.
Such a man has in great measure come to understand the Universe. He knows that honorable things do not depend on time for their growth; but any life must seem short to those who measure its length by pleasures which are empty and for that reason unbounded.
Refresh yourself with such thoughts as these, and meanwhile reserve some hours for our letters. There will come a time when we shall be united again and brought together; however short this time may be, we shall make it long by knowing how to employ it.
For, as Posidonius says: “A single day among the learned lasts longer than the longest life of the ignorant.”
Meanwhile, hold fast to this thought, and grip it close: yield not to adversity; trust not to prosperity; keep before your eyes the full scope of Fortune’s power, as if she would surely do whatever is in her power to do. That which has been long expected comes more gently. Farewell.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 78
It makes no difference if it is a decadence in the professional class or a vulgarity in the working class, a coddled life is invariably an empty life, where an assembly of amusements pretends to stand in for the content of character. Whether our dreams revolve around driving a Volvo or a Bronco, vacationing on the Vineyard or in Vegas, the gratification of acquisition and consumption betrays a surrender to convenience at the expense of conscience.
Why do we continue to do it? Any model of psychology will only be as good as the philosophy of human nature upon which it is built, and so reducing man to a mere creature of appetites drives us to cling to the longest existence with the greatest pleasures. We fear death, and we flee from pain. If our heads were on straight, we would instead fear ignorance, and we would flee from vice.
At his fullest, man is a rational animal, and so he is in want of a moral compass, an understanding of the true and the false, the right and the wrong. This direction is not cold and restrictive, as some would claim, but rather vital and liberating, as Nature intends, an awareness of the harmony of the self within the whole.
Why would there be any fear or doubt, when I am charged with meaning and purpose, with a sense of who I am, what I came from, and where I am going? With my eyes fixed upon the absolute good, death cannot threaten me, and hardship does not hinder me. If it has been done with excellence, it won’t matter when it ends, as the dignity of the act is complete within itself, perfect at each and every moment.
I am learning to distinguish between a pleasure that is grasping and a joy that is abiding, since always yearning for more is a sure sign that I am not fulfilling my essential needs, while finding satisfaction in a single instant is a proof that the deed is its own reward, demanding nothing else. Lust is hungry, and love is sated.
The drunk reaches for another bottle, the playboy searches for his next conquest, the tycoon longs for further profits. Meanwhile, the man of conviction and integrity is quietly happy to be wherever he may be, for however long he may be given, delighted by every breath, enriched by each small work of kindness. They are as different as night and day.
Duration becomes meaningless once the soul is composed. Prepare for everything to be at peace with anything.
It makes no difference if it is a decadence in the professional class or a vulgarity in the working class, a coddled life is invariably an empty life, where an assembly of amusements pretends to stand in for the content of character. Whether our dreams revolve around driving a Volvo or a Bronco, vacationing on the Vineyard or in Vegas, the gratification of acquisition and consumption betrays a surrender to convenience at the expense of conscience.
Why do we continue to do it? Any model of psychology will only be as good as the philosophy of human nature upon which it is built, and so reducing man to a mere creature of appetites drives us to cling to the longest existence with the greatest pleasures. We fear death, and we flee from pain. If our heads were on straight, we would instead fear ignorance, and we would flee from vice.
At his fullest, man is a rational animal, and so he is in want of a moral compass, an understanding of the true and the false, the right and the wrong. This direction is not cold and restrictive, as some would claim, but rather vital and liberating, as Nature intends, an awareness of the harmony of the self within the whole.
Why would there be any fear or doubt, when I am charged with meaning and purpose, with a sense of who I am, what I came from, and where I am going? With my eyes fixed upon the absolute good, death cannot threaten me, and hardship does not hinder me. If it has been done with excellence, it won’t matter when it ends, as the dignity of the act is complete within itself, perfect at each and every moment.
I am learning to distinguish between a pleasure that is grasping and a joy that is abiding, since always yearning for more is a sure sign that I am not fulfilling my essential needs, while finding satisfaction in a single instant is a proof that the deed is its own reward, demanding nothing else. Lust is hungry, and love is sated.
The drunk reaches for another bottle, the playboy searches for his next conquest, the tycoon longs for further profits. Meanwhile, the man of conviction and integrity is quietly happy to be wherever he may be, for however long he may be given, delighted by every breath, enriched by each small work of kindness. They are as different as night and day.
Duration becomes meaningless once the soul is composed. Prepare for everything to be at peace with anything.
—Reflection written in 11/2013
IMAGE: Peter Graham, Wandering Shadows (1878)
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