Let us therefore avoid being ungrateful, not for the sake of others but for our own sakes. When we do wrong, only the least and lightest portion of it flows back upon our neighbor; the worst and, if I may use the term, the densest portion of it stays at home and troubles the owner.
My master Attalus used to say: “Evil herself drinks the largest portion of her own poison.”
The poison which serpents carry for the destruction of others, and secrete without harm to themselves, is not like this poison; for this sort is ruinous to the possessor.
The ungrateful man tortures and torments himself; he hates the gifts which he has accepted, because he must make a return for them, and he tries to belittle their value, but he really enlarges and exaggerates the injuries which he has received. And what is more wretched than a man who forgets his benefits and clings to his injuries?
Wisdom, on the other hand, lends grace to every benefit, and of her own free will commends it to her own favor, and delights her soul by continued recollection thereof.
My master Attalus used to say: “Evil herself drinks the largest portion of her own poison.”
The poison which serpents carry for the destruction of others, and secrete without harm to themselves, is not like this poison; for this sort is ruinous to the possessor.
The ungrateful man tortures and torments himself; he hates the gifts which he has accepted, because he must make a return for them, and he tries to belittle their value, but he really enlarges and exaggerates the injuries which he has received. And what is more wretched than a man who forgets his benefits and clings to his injuries?
Wisdom, on the other hand, lends grace to every benefit, and of her own free will commends it to her own favor, and delights her soul by continued recollection thereof.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 81
If people are only familiar with my public persona, for whatever it’s worth, they might take me to be a sectarian Stoic, always ready to toe the party line. Besides the fact that I don’t believe there can really be such a thing, since no healthy philosophy has any place for dogmatism, my private thoughts are filled with a frightening amount of skepticism. If I can find my way to recommend it, rest assured that I have first rejected it at least a hundred times.
I remain totally committed to unraveling the theory, but for me the final test has always been whether it works in practice; I came to philosophy so I could fix the crippling defects in my daily living, not so I could pontificate from my ivory tower. And while I have now read through this letter a dozen times, A little warning bell goes off in my head at this point:
Do I run the danger of treating virtue as a selfish enterprise, when I say that I am doing it for my own sake?
Am I kidding myself in the belief that the suffering within the soul is far greater than the suffering from the circumstances? Doesn’t this diminish the pain I have inflicted upon others?
As is so often the case, my worry is based on false dichotomies, from my passions rushing ahead of my judgments. I create the problem for myself by being too hasty in my assumptions.
In the true order of Nature, there is no “us” versus “them”. What is good for the whole is good for the part, and what is good for the part is good for the whole. When I have served my neighbor, I cannot help but serve myself, and when I have served myself, I cannot help but serve my neighbor. It only becomes selfish when the one is divorced from the other.
To affirm the primacy of our inner merits is not to deny the significance of our outer conditions, as long as the latter are measured by the former. My mission is to increase in the virtues, and I should seek out the circumstances most conducive to my end. My neighbor’s calling is essentially the same, and I should assist him in seeking out the circumstances most conducive to his end. Even as there is no doubt that the flesh will suffer, sometimes with alarming intensity, its role always hinges upon the dignity of the spirit.
I am fatally poisoning myself whenever I deny someone charity or I refuse to express my gratitude. To face a misfortune could well be a hindrance, yet it could just as easily be turned into an opportunity, because the good or evil of any situation is ultimately in what we choose to make of it. The one toxin might bring us grief, though the other will surely kill us.
If a fellow refuses to be grateful, my feelings have been hurt; I can find a way to cope. Now imagine what is going on in his own head, a noxious stew of vanity, resentment, delusion, and self-pity, all of which he has inflicted upon himself; he will have to rebuild himself completely before he destroys himself. It is far easier to bear the insult than to escape from the cycle of self-ruin.
Wisdom allows us to find the good in everything, both in what is given and in what is received. That turns out to be a remarkably practical lesson.
If people are only familiar with my public persona, for whatever it’s worth, they might take me to be a sectarian Stoic, always ready to toe the party line. Besides the fact that I don’t believe there can really be such a thing, since no healthy philosophy has any place for dogmatism, my private thoughts are filled with a frightening amount of skepticism. If I can find my way to recommend it, rest assured that I have first rejected it at least a hundred times.
I remain totally committed to unraveling the theory, but for me the final test has always been whether it works in practice; I came to philosophy so I could fix the crippling defects in my daily living, not so I could pontificate from my ivory tower. And while I have now read through this letter a dozen times, A little warning bell goes off in my head at this point:
Do I run the danger of treating virtue as a selfish enterprise, when I say that I am doing it for my own sake?
Am I kidding myself in the belief that the suffering within the soul is far greater than the suffering from the circumstances? Doesn’t this diminish the pain I have inflicted upon others?
As is so often the case, my worry is based on false dichotomies, from my passions rushing ahead of my judgments. I create the problem for myself by being too hasty in my assumptions.
In the true order of Nature, there is no “us” versus “them”. What is good for the whole is good for the part, and what is good for the part is good for the whole. When I have served my neighbor, I cannot help but serve myself, and when I have served myself, I cannot help but serve my neighbor. It only becomes selfish when the one is divorced from the other.
To affirm the primacy of our inner merits is not to deny the significance of our outer conditions, as long as the latter are measured by the former. My mission is to increase in the virtues, and I should seek out the circumstances most conducive to my end. My neighbor’s calling is essentially the same, and I should assist him in seeking out the circumstances most conducive to his end. Even as there is no doubt that the flesh will suffer, sometimes with alarming intensity, its role always hinges upon the dignity of the spirit.
I am fatally poisoning myself whenever I deny someone charity or I refuse to express my gratitude. To face a misfortune could well be a hindrance, yet it could just as easily be turned into an opportunity, because the good or evil of any situation is ultimately in what we choose to make of it. The one toxin might bring us grief, though the other will surely kill us.
If a fellow refuses to be grateful, my feelings have been hurt; I can find a way to cope. Now imagine what is going on in his own head, a noxious stew of vanity, resentment, delusion, and self-pity, all of which he has inflicted upon himself; he will have to rebuild himself completely before he destroys himself. It is far easier to bear the insult than to escape from the cycle of self-ruin.
Wisdom allows us to find the good in everything, both in what is given and in what is received. That turns out to be a remarkably practical lesson.
—Reflection written in 12/2013
IMAGE: William Blake, Eve Tempted by the Serpent (1800)
No comments:
Post a Comment