Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.3

What you desire, to be undisturbed, is a great thing, no, the greatest thing of all, and one that raises a man almost to the level of a god. The Greeks call this calm steadiness of mind euthymia, and Democritus' treatise upon it is excellently written.

 I call it peace of mind, for there is no necessity for translating so exactly as to copy the words of the Greek idiom. The essential point is to mark the matter under discussion by a name that ought to have the same meaning as its Greek name, though perhaps not the same form.

What we are seeking, then, is how the mind may always pursue a steady, unruffled course, may be pleased with itself, and look with pleasure upon its surroundings, and experience no interruption of this joy, but abide in a peaceful condition without being ever either elated or depressed: this will be "peace of mind”.

We are convinced that we must always be busy, frantically running about here and there, occupied with not only one task after another, but with as many tasks at the same time as possible. Then, we actually go around bragging about how hectic our lives are, as if this were somehow a badge of success. Look at all that we are sacrificing in order to be happy! How noble our suffering!

This would seem, however, quite an odd way to become happy. Happiness will not come from making ourselves more miserable. There is no rest for the restless. We will hardly find peace if we are always at war.

What Seneca here calls euthymia, peace of mind, is a way to describe that goal we are all seeking. It is what Serenus longs for in the midst of his dreariness and doubt. It is what I have always desired, though I have not clearly known how to find it, or even precisely what it is. It is what any man occupied with all the petty diversions of life hopes to discover, somewhere beyond or behind all of those diversions. It is what even the most wicked man, wrapped up in his own selfishness and spite, truly craves.

“Sure,” someone might say, “you mean feeling good?”

Yes, it may include a feeling of pleasure, but it is far more than that, and the fact that we reduce it only to feeling is a part of our problem. The sorts of pleasures we usually pursue are often about gratification, about continually consuming and possessing, and this is more about a deeper contentment and satisfaction with all things. It is feeling at peace, not longing for more.

Furthermore, the value of that feeling must itself be an effect of a certain state of mind, of how we live and act, of the whole of our own self in relationship to the world around us. It includes the body, the passions, the mind and the will, and it means that I can, at any time or in any circumstance, look within myself, and look outside of myself, and say with all conviction, “Yes, this is good!”

It will not be hindered by unexpected obstacles, and it will not be interrupted by extreme highs and lows. I won’t be laughing out loud at one moment, and crying uncontrollably the next. There will no need for furiously working to acquire more, because I will already have within me everything I need.

I can’t improve on how Seneca describes it, but I can point to further aspects or images that help me to personally understand it. I think of this peace of mind as building a balance, where no one part outweighs the other, and where all the pieces are working together as a whole. That balance is in my own soul, and in my soul's place in Nature.

I remember that sudden moment when I could ride my bicycle with no conscious effort, with no falling down, with no wobbling, with no frustrations. I remember that time I built my first house of cards, and it stayed standing. I remember when I finally sat next to another person on a park bench, and there was absolutely no need for anxiety or words. There is the balance, there is the harmony, there is the peace, there is the contentment. 

Written in 5/2011

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 4

19. He who takes the Self to be the slayer, he who takes It to be the slain, neither of these knows. It does not slay, nor is It slain. 

20. This is never born, nor does It die. It is not that not having been It again comes into being. Or according to another view: It is not that having been It again ceases to be. This is unborn, eternal, changeless, ever-Itself. It is not killed when the body is killed. 

21. He that knows This to be indestructible, changeless, without birth, and immutable, how is he, O son of Prithâ, to slay or cause another to slay? 

22. Even as a man casts off worn-out clothes, and puts on others which are new, so the embodied casts off worn-out bodies, and enters into others which are new. 

23. This Self, weapons cut not; This, fire burns not; This, water wets not; and This, wind dries not. 

24. This Self cannot be cut, nor burnt, nor wetted, nor dried. Changeless, all-pervading, unmoving, immovable, the Self is eternal. 

25. This Self is said to be unmanifested, unthinkable, and unchangeable. Therefore, knowing This to be such, you ought not to mourn. 

26. But if you should take This to have constant birth and death, even in that case, O mighty-armed, you ought not to mourn for This. 

27. Of that which is born, death is certain, of that which is dead, birth is certain. Over the unavoidable, therefore, you ought not to grieve. 

28. All beings are unmanifested in their beginning, O Bhârata, manifested in their middle state and unmanifested again in their end. What is there then to grieve about?

—Bhagavad Gita, 2:19-28

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.9

“Kings you may see sitting aloft upon their thrones,

gleaming with purple,

hedged about with grim guarding weapons,

threatening with fierce glances,

and their hearts heaving with passion.

If any man take from these proud ones

their outward covering of empty honor,

he will see within,

will see that these great ones bear secret chains.

For the heart of one is thus filled by lust

with the poisons of greed,

or seething rage lifts up its waves

and lashes his mind therewith;

or gloomy grief holds them weary captives,

or by slippery hopes they are tortured.

So when you see one head thus laboring

beneath so many tyrants,

you know he cannot do as he would,

for by hard task-masters is the master himself oppressed.”

—from Book 4, Poem 2

I never cease to be amazed at how much effort we can expend in trying to appear good without actually being good, in looking happy yet being quite miserable, in pretending to be at peace while constantly being at war.

Whenever I have been drawn into this trap, I am working from a false premise, that what shows on the outside matters more than what it is on the inside. The attempt will ultimately meet in failure, of course, because an illusion is just that, a trick of manipulating impressions to divert us from the reality. I can lie to others, and I can lie to myself, but crooked effects will reveal the crooked causes behind them. It only requires honestly looking at it for myself, instead of seeing what I am told to see.

I have never met any actual kings or queens, though I have known many people who would like us to think that they are like kings or queens. They often acquire an incredible skill at building up layer after layer of appearances, quite difficult to unravel.

There were a number of priests who gave noble talks about chastity, and then did something quite different behind closed doors.

There was a colleague who had everyone convinced he was the JAG lawyer who had prosecuted the case that inspired A Few Good Men, and then put up a website for a fake research institute to raise money for himself.

There was the girl who impressed us by saying she was a “Miss Teen” beauty queen champion, though you had to look at the fine print to see the title was bought from a vanity pageant.

There was the Chairman of the Board whose “aw shucks” charm had us all convinced he cared deeply for us, like his family, and then he fired us by mail.

The best fake image I could ever pull off was about coming across as profound and mysterious, and pretending that I understood things I had absolutely no clue about. People only needed to get to know me a bit to see through all of that nonsense, so I could never manage to get in on my résumé.

What a horrific form of self-abuse it all is, polishing the outside while rotting on the inside. The very desire to impress is itself already a symptom of the rot, because it fails to see that whatever dignity and worth we have is from the content of our character, not from the worship of fame and fortune. I think I am making myself the master, and the whole time I am submitting myself to slavery. I am a puppet on a string.

Who are now the new masters I am giving dominion over me? My own lust, greed, and anger, my unbridled desires to be gratified, to hold possession, to inflict pain when I feel pain. There is no happiness there at all, only the appearance of power.

The next time I feel threatened or intimidated by all these trappings, the next time I become jealous of those who flaunt their trophies, let me look again, because they are not what they appear to be. Most important of all, let it help me to rid myself of those very same delusions. If I am ever to have any merit, it will not come from putting on a show. 

Written in 10/2015

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 4

The people of Athens held Zeno in high honor, as is proved by their depositing with him the keys of the city walls, and their honoring him with a golden crown and a bronze statue. This last mark of respect was also shown to him by citizens of his native town, who deemed his statue an ornament to their city, and the men of Citium living in Sidon were also proud to claim him for their own. 

Antigonus (Gonatas) also favored him, and whenever he came to Athens would hear him lecture and often invited him to come to his court. This offer he declined, but dispatched there one of his friends, Persaeus, the son of Demetrius and a native of Citium, who flourished in the 130th Olympiad, at which time Zeno was already an old man. 

According to Apollonius of Tyre in his work upon Zeno, the letter of Antigonus was couched in the following terms:

"King Antigonus to Zeno the philosopher, greeting. 

"While in fortune and fame I deem myself your superior, in reason and education I own myself inferior, as well as in the perfect happiness which you have attained. 

"Wherefore I have decided to ask you to pay me a visit, being persuaded that you will not refuse the request. By all means, then, do your best to hold conference with me, understanding clearly that you will not be the instructor of myself alone but of all the Macedonians taken together. 

"For it is obvious that whoever instructs the ruler of Macedonia and guides him in the paths of virtue will also be training his subjects to be good men. As is the ruler, such for the most part it may be expected that his subjects will become." 

And Zeno's reply is as follows: 

"Zeno to King Antigonus, greeting. 

"I welcome your love of learning in so far as you cleave to that true education which tends to advantage and not to that popular counterfeit of it which serves only to corrupt morals. 

"But if anyone has yearned for philosophy, turning away from much-vaunted pleasure which renders effeminate the souls of some of the young, it is evident that not by nature only, but also by the bent of his will he is inclined to nobility of character. But if a noble nature be aided by moderate exercise and further receive ungrudging instruction, it easily comes to acquire virtue in perfection. 

"But I am constrained by bodily weakness, due to old age, for I am eighty years old; and for that reason I am unable to join you. 

"But I send you certain companions of my studies whose mental powers are not inferior to mine, while their bodily strength is far greater, and if you associate with these you will in no way fall short of the conditions necessary to perfect happiness."

So he sent Persaeus and Philonides the Theban; and Epicurus in his letter to his brother Aristobulus mentions them both as living with Antigonus.

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.6-9

Tyranny

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.3

In the first place, a woman must be a good housekeeper; that is a careful accountant of all that pertains to the welfare of her house and capable of directing the household slaves. It is my contention that these are the very qualities that would be present particularly in the woman who studies philosophy, since obviously each of them is a part of life, and philosophy is nothing other than knowledge about life, and the philosopher, as Socrates said, quoting Homer, is constantly engaged in investigating precisely this:

"Whatsoever of good and of evil is wrought in your halls.”

I will occasionally sneak in some Stoic texts when I teach, in between all the more popular ones I am expected to cover. Once, when we were reading the section on gender in Plato’s Republic, I took an unscheduled detour to discuss this brief essay by Musonius Rufus.

When we came to this passage, I already had a hunch that there would be strong objections. I see texts as an opportunity not only to propose a certain position, but also, and in some ways more importantly, as a means for thinking through any problem, and coming to appreciate different points of view. After all, the conclusions we arrive at will only be as good as the reasoning we use to get there.

The response was immediate. “See! I knew these guys were all fascists! Look, he says right here that a woman’s job is running the home, and then he talks about slaves!”

“First, we could try not to say that anything we don’t like is fascist; didn’t we have that conversation a few weeks ago? Second, for right or for wrong, slavery was a real part of ancient society, just as wage labor is in ours. But let’s put those two aside for the moment, and think about what Musonius might mean by a housekeeper.”

“What is there to talk about? He says woman should run the house.”

“Being a servant, who cooks, and cleans, and follows orders?”

“Exactly.”

“But he says she directs and manages the household, not that she is just a laborer, and that she does this through her own sound judgment, through her knowledge of what is right and good. Her authority and power follow from her ability to think for herself, which is why she needs philosophy.”

“But why does she have to be at home, while the men get to go out do whatever they want?”

“I’m not sure it means that women should only be at home, just as I’m not sure it means that men should stay away from the home. Different customs and traditions may express it in different ways, but Musonius’ whole argument is that both men and women are called choose good lives guided by reason, the ability to rule themselves.

“Here’s an example you may not agree with, but hopefully you can try to understand it. My wife and I were once at a fancy dinner party, and the conversation turned to careers. The hostess asked my wife what her biggest goal was. ‘To be a good wife and mother,’ she answered.

“The room suddenly went dead silent, and I think I heard some silverware drop.

“The hostess turned to me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ‘Well, I suppose that makes you happy, having such a subservient wife.’ This produced a good chuckle around the table.

“I had to think of what to say, because any answer I gave, even just laughing along, was going to bring me trouble. My Irish temper bubbled inside me, but I kept silent. Say nothing if you have nothing good to say.

“I didn’t have to worry. In a calm and friendly manner, my wife replied to the hostess. ‘You don’t have to turn to him. I can think and speak for myself. My most important job in this life is to care for our family, and his most important job in this life is to care for our family. One reason we are married is precisely because we agreed on this. Whichever one of us might have a fancy job outside the home, we both know that it is only there to help us with what is inside the home. The home is the center. A worldly career is a means, but our real human calling to virtue is the end.’

“The balance of power at the table had suddenly shifted. Someone suggested refilling the wine glasses, and the conversation drifted back to pretty and shallow things. I’m sure they made fun of us later, but no one in that crowd ever called my wife subservient again.

“Consider the possibility that the home is not a chore or a burden, but a vocation and a blessing, and that it should be the priority for all of its members, husbands and wives, parents and children. Maybe, just maybe, we have it backwards when we put careers ahead of families, when families should actually be ahead of careers. Love is bigger than money. What Musonius says will only make sense from that perspective." 

Written in 4/1999

Sayings of Ramakrishna 17

Every being is Nârâyana. Man or animal, sage or knave, nay, the whole universe is Nârâyana, the Supreme Spirit. 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.2

What you need, therefore, is, not any of those harsher remedies to which allusion has been made, not that you should in some cases check yourself, in others be angry with yourself, in others sternly reproach yourself, but that you should adopt that which comes last in the list, have confidence in yourself, and believe that you are proceeding on the right path, without being led aside by the numerous divergent tracks of wanderers that cross it in every direction, some of them circling about the right path itself.

There are times when I need to be tough with myself, and then there are times when I need to give myself a bit more credit. I know how dangerous it can be to confuse the two, but when informed by honest understanding each method has its place.

To use Seneca’s analogy, sometimes I have completely lost my way, and I don’t know where the right path is, or even in which direction I am pointed. Great dangers call for radical measures, so I need to be as firm with myself as I can possibly be.

At other times, I am already on the right path, and my moral compass has steered me in the right direction. Still I am easily distracted, or weighed down by the pettiest things, or prone to lethargy. I stumble, I fall, I get confused. This may well be the time when I don’t need to give myself a stern lecture, but rather some calm and patient encouragement.

My own experience has been that this is like the difference between knowing nothing at all and at least knowing a bit of something, or also between a stubborn indignation and a sincere willingness to improve. It is a wilted conscience as distinct from a growing conscience. A firm hand has often helped me with the former, and a gentle touch with the latter.

I’m not sure if the analogies works entirely, but I picture it to myself as something like the contrast between the stick and the carrot, or between vinegar and honey.

I have some experience in working with self-help groups, and I have noticed we will sometimes foolishly apply a certain remedy at the time when it is least helpful.  Your mileage may vary, but a good hug is not the best solution when a member has stolen the cashbox to feed his vice of choice. Similarly, a raised voice is the worst response when a member is in tears because she has had a bad day.

There is a world of difference between “You lazy bum!” and “You’re doing great. Keep going!”

I have found this test to be useful: What is my current attitude toward my own responsibilities? If I am smugly looking down at them, I may need a thrashing to get myself back on track. If I am struggling to keep up with them, I probably need kind inspiration. Sometimes I need to be brought down, and sometimes I need to be raised up. 

Written in 5/2011

Sayings of Socrates 26

I did not go where I could do no good to you or to myself; but where I could do the greatest good privately to everyone of you, there I went, and sought to persuade every man among you that he must look to himself, and seek virtue and wisdom before he looks to his private interests, and look to the State before he looks to the interests of the State; and that this should be the order that he observes in all his actions. What shall be done to such a one? Doubtless some good thing. . . .

—Plato, Apology 36c–d

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.2

If this is true, by what reasoning would it ever be appropriate for men to search out and consider how they may lead good lives, which is exactly the study of philosophy, but inappropriate for women?

Could it be that it is fitting for men to be good, but not for women? Let us examine in detail the qualities which are suitable for a woman who would lead a good life, for it will appear that each one of them would accrue to her most readily from the study of philosophy.

The false opposition between male and female is only one of so many ways that we find to divide and separate the world. It is certainly right to distinguish the way things are different, though we do ourselves a great disservice when we forget how they are also the same. A contrast is confused with a conflict; a complement is confused with a contradiction.

What Musonius says here about gender can apply just as easily to other false divisions we impose upon ourselves. Besides facing men against women, we are drawn to breeding discord between races, classes, nations, religions, or political ideologies.

What all these instances share in common is how they insist that one side is right precisely because the other is wrong, that some people are better on account of other people being worse, and that this idea must be true through being at war with another idea that must be false.

Why are we tempted to do this? I can only think that it reflects an attempt to discover our own value, but in a cheap and easy way that draws attention to the failings of the other.

I know that whenever I have fallen into this trap, which I have done more often than I care to admit, I somehow feel more special when I oppose myself to someone or something else. I make myself bigger, taller, or stronger by making others smaller, shorter, or weaker.

It becomes so effortless to cast blame, to diminish, or to dispose that I may hardly be aware that I am doing it. I have to admit that I am drawn to such a twisted solution because it diverts me from having to carefully consider myself.

We see contradictions where logic demands none. We build walls to avoid facing the beautiful yet terrifying prospect that our neighbors are just the same as we are. Picking enemies we can hate requires far less soul-searching than embracing the friends we should love.

Why do I think I should have the opportunity to study and practice philosophy? Well, I have reason, so it is necessary for me to learn to live well. Does a woman also have reason? Or that man who has a different color? Or that group over there that speak in words I can’t understand? Does my political opponent also possess a mind and a will?

“No! They are a lesser form of the species, barbarians, barely human!” We have all heard that, time and time again, both in the past and in the present. The opponents may change, while the ignorance remains the same.

My selfishness and narrow thinking do not want me to admit that if I have certain human needs, responsibilities, or rights, then every other human being also has those same needs, responsibilities or rights.

I may prefer to ignore this, because it is more immediately gratifying for me to receive instead of give, to exclude instead of accept. Resentment becomes a sort of universal “get out of jail free” card. If I can blame others, I can cast aside my own sense of accountability for myself. False division is an excuse for my own failure.

A truth is only universal when it applies too all instances, not just to some. If a man should be wise, brave, temperate, and just because of his humanity, then a woman should also be wise, brave, temperate and just because of her humanity. This will also be true if someone is rich or poor, young or old, or waving any color of flag.

You don’t need to roll your eyes at me, and tell me that this is sentimental claptrap. The passions may appreciate it, but it is reason that demands it.

Written in 4/1999

Tao Te Ching 51

All things are produced by the Tao, and nourished by its outflowing operation. They receive their forms according to the nature of each, and are completed according to the circumstances of their condition. Therefore all things without exception honor the Tao, and exalt its out outflowing operation.

This honoring of the Tao and exalting of its operation is not the result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute.

Thus it is that the Tao produces all things, nourishes them, brings them to their full growth, nurses them, completes them, matures them, maintains them, and overspreads them.

It produces them and makes no claim to the possession of them; it carries them through their processes and does not vaunt its ability in doing so; it brings them to maturity and exercises no control over them—this is called its mysterious operation.

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.1

Chapter 2

Seneca:

I have long been silently asking myself, my friend Serenus, to what I should liken such a condition of mind, and I find that nothing more closely resembles it than the conduct of those who, after having recovered from a long and serious illness, occasionally experience slight touches and twinges, and, although they have passed through the final stages of the disease, yet have suspicions that it has not left them, and though in perfect health yet hold out their pulse to be felt by the physician, and whenever they feel warm suspect that the fever is returning.

Such men, Serenus, are not unhealthy, but they are not accustomed to being healthy; just as even a quiet sea or lake nevertheless displays a certain amount of ripple when its waters are subsiding after a storm.

I am hardly a strapping fellow, but I will not get sick often. Yet when I do, it will hit me like a ton of bricks, and it then takes me ages to return to form. I do wonder if the period of recovery can be worse than the actual disease, and I almost prefer the few days of sharp pain and delirious fever to the many weeks of dull aches and draining lethargy.

As is so often the case, the patterns of the mind reflect the patterns of the body. That moment where everything hangs in the balance, where a decision will be about far more than life or death, but about redemption or corruption? Yes, I will face that, and while I know that it will hurt, I also know that it will define my purpose. The meaning in it is clear.

But that moment where nothing stands out, where it hardly seems to matter if I turn right or I turn left, and all that is left is dullness and worry? No, I would rather not face that, and while the hurt doesn’t seem nearly as bad, I have no sense of its purpose. The meaning in it is not clear.

Yes, there is that sudden and critical time, both terrifying and glorious, when all else falls away, and I need to make my stand. Then there is the creeping silence that follows, when the mundane has returned, and I need to maintain my convictions. That second bit is not so easy.

There is the temptation to doubt again, where those little nagging concerns come back. Am I really any better? Wait, was that an old demon peeping around the corner? A noble commitment must now be built into a lasting habit. I am distracted by petty things, discouraged by every pang, convinced I am about to relapse. It becomes clear that the long-distance run requires something very different than the sprint.

It’s funny how so many powerful things in this life have no name at all, perhaps because we don’t actually wish to acknowledge them. This feeling is surely one of them, where the word “recovery” seems quite insufficient. Calling it the “long road of recovery” does it more justice.

Written in 5/2011

Ecclesiastes 12:8-14

[8] Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.
[9] Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging proverbs with great care.
[10] The Preacher sought to find pleasing words, and uprightly he wrote words of truth.
[11]The sayings of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings which are given by one Shepherd.
[12] My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
[13] The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man.
[14] For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil. 

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.1

Lecture 3: That women too should study philosophy.

When someone asked him if women too should study philosophy, he began to discourse on the theme that they should, in somewhat the following manner.

Women as well as men, he said, have received from the gods the gift of reason, which we use in our dealings with one another and by which we judge whether a thing is good or bad, right or wrong.

Likewise the female has the same senses as the male; namely sight, hearing, smell, and the others.

Also both have the same parts of the body, and one has nothing more than the other.

Moreover, not men alone, but women too, have a natural inclination toward virtue and the capacity for acquiring it, and it is the nature of women no less than men to be pleased by good and just acts and to reject the opposite of these.

I have become accustomed to thinking very differently than most others, for better or for worse. I do not expect to determine what someone else will think, and I try not to be offended when he expresses his disapproval. Some of this has to do with an eccentric disposition, but most of it comes from the sort of values I have chosen for myself. I am not content to merely follow the current trend, or to embrace the latest “—ism”.

Some people seem quite surprised that Musonius Rufus held what they consider to be such “progressive” views on women, and I usually suggest that common sense is hardly old or new, but simply timeless. I believe it was Coco Chanel who said that “Fashion fades, only style remains the same.”

The regular assumption, of course, is that those in the past were backward and bigoted, and only now, in our better age, have we become so enlightened and fair. I suspect, however, that human nature doesn’t change all that much. There have always been wisdom and ignorance, and there have always been virtue and vice, just mixed together in various ways.

For as long as I can remember, people have been asking me if I am a feminist. I am not sure how to answer, because I am not even sure what the term means to everyone; I have heard so many differing definitions over the years that I can no longer keep track.

Is it about finding what is common and shared to all human beings, regardless of their gender, or is it about continuing to insist on divisions? Does it involve finding ways for all of us to be better, or does it require that someone else remains worse?

Musonius is just pointing to a basic insight about humanity, that for the many variations between people, they still remain people, gifted with reason and will, and made for exactly the same end. Yes, I can consider the accidents, like gender, or race, or age, or preferences, or points of view, and they will only confuse me if I do not remember what is essential beneath them. It’s only justice when it’s universal, only dignity when it’s free from the conditions of circumstance.

Of course there are differences between men and women, at the levels of their minds and bodies, just as there are also differences between all individuals. It would be foolish of me to think that this is all that matters, or that it doesn’t matter at all, or not to see that how it matters depends upon first finding what is common. The degrees exist within the kind.

Both a man and a woman are able to form their own judgments, and thereby to inform their own sense of moral worth.

Both a man and a woman experience the same world, through the same powers of perception.

Both a man and woman possess the same sorts of bodies, each quite capable of meetings the demands of a good life.

Most importantly, both a man and a woman are made for the same purpose, to know and to love, to seek virtue and to avoid vice, and the final merit of either will be completely identical.

Thoughtful and decent folks, men and women alike, from any walk of life, have always understood that the variations of the sexes complement one another, and are never intended to be in conflict with one another. This will only be possible if I first look at the person. Philosophy, as a means to becoming fully human, is everyone’s calling.

Written in 4/1999

Fragments

The Art of Peace 42

The Way of a Warrior
Cannot be encompassed  
By words or in letters:  
Grasp the essence  
And move on toward realization! 

Arena, "Crying for Help IV"

As a reference for Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.13:

Some people will claim that asking for help is a sign of weakness, and others will see it as a true sign of strength. When Serenus asks Seneca to help him overcome his doubts and fears, Seneca actually answers.

It is never a light thing, just because the suffering of another happens to be inconvenient. When others seek our assistance, we can finally put our money where our mouth is. By doing real good for others, we also do good for ourselves.

I listened to a lot of music during what I call my Wilderness Years, where the only people who barely stuck with me were my closest family. Even they had no idea what to do with me. I spent my time alone, and I cried out for help all of the time. It all seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Give it time. It will get better."

Arena was a sort of offshoot of my absolutely favorite band, Marillion, and I would listen to their first album over and over. This track was one I looked forward to hearing, even as I dreaded what it had to say. It described exactly how I felt every day, and I would either crawl down a hole or lash out.

I remember going in complete desperation to a professor I had in graduate school, a Jesuit priest, and I bared my soul to him. He suggested prayer, and perhaps some medications, and sent me on my way.

As I walked out, I then saw him meeting with a happy crowd of students, all eager and excited, to go see a movie together.

To this day, I think of how much it would have meant to me if they had asked me to join them. I even stood there for a moment, secretly hoping the idea would magically pop into their heads. It obviously didn't, and I walked home alone.

Was I angry then? Yes. Now I can only think that when someone asks me for anything, absolutely anything, I need to give all of what I can. We are at our best together. 

Arena, "Crying for Help IV", from Songs from the Lion's Cage (1995)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Jghe46M6tM

Who makes these choices?
Who waves the final hand?
When wisdom is more than  age or reason
Who makes these choices?
Who makes the final stand?
When solitude is all that you believe

It's all the same
And you really should have known
It's all the same
When your heart grows cold and you're all alone
This has no name
This feeling that I used to know
It's here again
I can see the tortured souls as they cry for help 

Take my hand
I'll lead you through the traps and snares
Take my hand
I'll feed you and I'll clothe you like
My only child
There is nothing left to fear
My only child
There is nothing left to hurt you now!

Who makes these choices?
Who waves the final hand?
When all around
I hear the sound
Of pleading for a helping hand
Who makes those choices?
Who makes the final stand?
When far away I hear them say
They couldn't give a damn!
Give a damn! 

They're crying for help.
Help me!
They're crying for help
Help me! . . .

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.13

I beg you, therefore, if you have any remedy by which you could stop this vacillation of mine, to deem me worthy to owe my peace of mind to you.

I am well aware that these oscillations of mind are not perilous and that they threaten me with no serious disorder. To express what I complain of by an exact simile, I am not suffering from a storm, but from seasickness. Take from me, then, this evil, whatever it may be, and help one who is in distress within sight of land.

I have finally come to realize that most of those who say they will help, even when they promise it with the finest words, will not help at all. This is difficult for me, because I would like to think the best of human nature.

I still hope that people will find understanding and compassion within their souls, but I no longer expect it. My own failures at understanding and compassion, due to my own narrow sense of self, should be the first things to remind me that I cannot demand what I have failed to give. There’s nothing like knowing you have been a bastard for you to offer sympathy to all the other bastards.

I have asked people to give me assistance more often than I can count, and I have stood there abandoned more often than I can count. I have struggled to not become bitter, and to rather become more accepting and forgiving. The Golden Rule demands no less.

Yet I cringe when I read Serenus’ appeal. He is, as they say, putting himself “out there”, revealing a weakness within himself. How easy it would be to throw a tired platitude his way, and then to ignore him completely. That’s the pattern I’m most used to.

“Oh, don’t worry. It will be just fine.” “Have you prayed about it?” “Hey, we all have problems, right? What makes you so special?”

Serenus asks with urgency, even as he admits that he is not in an existential crisis. He suffers from a lingering malaise, not from some life-threatening danger. He will not necessarily lose his whole character, though he feels it being gnawed at constantly.

He is seasick, not drowning.

Nevertheless, his need is real. The death by a thousand cuts can be far more troubling than the executioner’s axe. Give me light, or give me darkness, but I can’t bear this constant grayness.

As he makes this appeal, I can only feel with him. I know exactly where he is coming from, being neither here nor there, with just enough spirit to live, and not enough spite to die. These are the folks we too often overlook, those who are in between. They cry out, and we look the other way.

Seneca was hardly a perfect man, caught in all sorts of silly political machinations back in his time, but he had the decency to give Serenus a thoughtful and caring reply. He wasn’t great because he wrote fine books, or rubbed shoulders with the rich and powerful, but because he chose to help his friends.

Written in 4/2011

Sayings of Heraclitus 16

How can one hide from that which never sets?

Stoic Conversations 22

"I'm really interested in Stoicism. I think it may fit in my life."

"I'm glad to hear it. I have extra copies of the Meditations and the Handbook sitting around, so let me know if you'd like them."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm turned off by some parts of it. I'm not sure I can buy into all of it."

"It isn't a product, or a church, or a club. There are guys on the internet who will sell you courses, or discussion groups, or trinkets, but they are making themselves important. It's about you honestly facing yourself. There is no buying or selling."

"Sure, but I don't believe in God. I'm a materialist, so I don't think there is any deeper meaning to the world. And I don't believe in virtue, because morals are just things other people impose on us. And I don't believe we can really know anything about what life means. There is no such thing as a truth for all of us."

"Which part of Stoicism appeals to you then? What else is left?"

"The part where I have power over myself."

"Then Stoicism may not be for you right now. Read some Sartre, or maybe some Nietzsche. The big picture of Stoicism is one of a Universe charged with awareness and purpose, a human nature within the order of all of Nature, and our own ability to understand and to live well within that whole. I'm not sure that you can practice Stoicism without that core of metaphysics, ethics, and logic. There's no place for cherry-picking."

"But I like the the power part."

"I also have an extra copy of Nietzsche's Twilight of the Idols and The Anti-Christ. Read those works, and then tell me where you stand."

"Can I have the other books too?"

"Wait a bit. Come back when you're ready to move beyond Existentialism. Otherwise those other books will just sit idly on your shelf."