I can scarcely force myself to wish that others shall think this cart mine. My false embarrassment about the truth still holds out, you see; and whenever we meet a more sumptuous party
I blush in spite of myself—proof that this conduct which I approve and applaud has not yet gained a firm and steadfast dwelling-place within me. He who blushes at riding in a rattletrap will boast when he rides in style.
So my progress is still insufficient. I have not yet the courage openly to acknowledge my thriftiness. Even yet I am bothered by what other travelers think of me.
But instead of this, I should really have uttered an opinion counter to that in which mankind believe, saying, “You are mad, you are misled, your admiration devotes itself to superfluous things! You estimate no man at his real worth. When property is concerned, you reckon up in this way with most scrupulous calculation those to whom you shall lend either money or benefits; for by now you enter benefits also as payments in your ledger.
“You say: ‘His estates are wide, but his debts are large.’ ‘He has a fine house, but he has built it on borrowed capital.’ ‘No man will display a more brilliant retinue on short notice, but he cannot meet his debts.’ If he pays off his creditors, he will have nothing left.’”
So you will feel bound to do in all other cases as well—to find out by elimination the amount of every man’s actual possessions.
I blush in spite of myself—proof that this conduct which I approve and applaud has not yet gained a firm and steadfast dwelling-place within me. He who blushes at riding in a rattletrap will boast when he rides in style.
So my progress is still insufficient. I have not yet the courage openly to acknowledge my thriftiness. Even yet I am bothered by what other travelers think of me.
But instead of this, I should really have uttered an opinion counter to that in which mankind believe, saying, “You are mad, you are misled, your admiration devotes itself to superfluous things! You estimate no man at his real worth. When property is concerned, you reckon up in this way with most scrupulous calculation those to whom you shall lend either money or benefits; for by now you enter benefits also as payments in your ledger.
“You say: ‘His estates are wide, but his debts are large.’ ‘He has a fine house, but he has built it on borrowed capital.’ ‘No man will display a more brilliant retinue on short notice, but he cannot meet his debts.’ If he pays off his creditors, he will have nothing left.’”
So you will feel bound to do in all other cases as well—to find out by elimination the amount of every man’s actual possessions.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 87
Nevertheless, though I can begin to grasp these noble principles, there is still something holding me back: the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Like Seneca, I find myself ashamed of my frugality, worried that others will take me to be a failure in life, and I will catch myself peeking with envy at my neighbor’s new car.
Clearly, my doubts reveal how my understanding is not yet complete, for if I actually knew what was good for me, I would hardly hesitate to pursue it. What is contributing to the uncertainty?
When I examine my own struggle, I realize that I remain dazzled by certain impressions: from the inside, my old habits continue to weigh me down, and from the outside, I am still afraid to abandon a herd mentality. When I lower my guard, even for a moment, I am inclined to let my passions run away with me.
If Seneca, a far better man than I can ever claim to be, was also second-guessing himself, I should not think too poorly of my misgivings. I fear the only cure for such a frailty is steady practice: routines are formed through repetition, and self-reliance is not crafted overnight. Upon falling down, the victory is always in standing right back up.
In most cases, I have now reached a point where taking a short break will do me a world of good. Even a minute of calm reflection, which can feel like an eternity when the fire burns hot, allows me to restore my sanity. The next time you catch me being resentful, jealous, or quarrelsome, you can safely assume that I neglected to hit the pause button.
To convince myself of a truth is not to force a conclusion down my throat, but rather to carefully evaluate if the reasoning is sound. Is a desire gnawing away at me? Then I can remember that I am a creature of reason and will, and so my judgment is made to rule my appetites. Am I intimidated by the opinions of others? Then I can consider what they have to say, without allowing them to do my thinking for me. My nature calls for the virtues, not for chasing after pleasures or currying favor.
As Seneca says, what does the grasping man really possess? He is forever scheming, calculating how other people might bring a profit or a loss, to the point where his quest to acquire and to consume only sees balance sheets instead of human faces. By denying the very dignity of what it even means to be a person, he has drained himself of any genuine merit.
And in the process of plotting against his fellows, what does he discover about the rules of the game? It turns out that even the richest man is at the mercy of his creditors, because the mercenaries never give anything away for free. Sometimes the price to pay is much too high—by aiming to rule over their circumstances, it turns out that the circumstances now rule over them.
Nevertheless, though I can begin to grasp these noble principles, there is still something holding me back: the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Like Seneca, I find myself ashamed of my frugality, worried that others will take me to be a failure in life, and I will catch myself peeking with envy at my neighbor’s new car.
Clearly, my doubts reveal how my understanding is not yet complete, for if I actually knew what was good for me, I would hardly hesitate to pursue it. What is contributing to the uncertainty?
When I examine my own struggle, I realize that I remain dazzled by certain impressions: from the inside, my old habits continue to weigh me down, and from the outside, I am still afraid to abandon a herd mentality. When I lower my guard, even for a moment, I am inclined to let my passions run away with me.
If Seneca, a far better man than I can ever claim to be, was also second-guessing himself, I should not think too poorly of my misgivings. I fear the only cure for such a frailty is steady practice: routines are formed through repetition, and self-reliance is not crafted overnight. Upon falling down, the victory is always in standing right back up.
In most cases, I have now reached a point where taking a short break will do me a world of good. Even a minute of calm reflection, which can feel like an eternity when the fire burns hot, allows me to restore my sanity. The next time you catch me being resentful, jealous, or quarrelsome, you can safely assume that I neglected to hit the pause button.
To convince myself of a truth is not to force a conclusion down my throat, but rather to carefully evaluate if the reasoning is sound. Is a desire gnawing away at me? Then I can remember that I am a creature of reason and will, and so my judgment is made to rule my appetites. Am I intimidated by the opinions of others? Then I can consider what they have to say, without allowing them to do my thinking for me. My nature calls for the virtues, not for chasing after pleasures or currying favor.
As Seneca says, what does the grasping man really possess? He is forever scheming, calculating how other people might bring a profit or a loss, to the point where his quest to acquire and to consume only sees balance sheets instead of human faces. By denying the very dignity of what it even means to be a person, he has drained himself of any genuine merit.
And in the process of plotting against his fellows, what does he discover about the rules of the game? It turns out that even the richest man is at the mercy of his creditors, because the mercenaries never give anything away for free. Sometimes the price to pay is much too high—by aiming to rule over their circumstances, it turns out that the circumstances now rule over them.
—Reflection written in 2/2014
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