Dhammapada 79

He who drinks in the law lives happily with a serene mind: the sage rejoices always in the law, as preached by the Ariyas, the elect. 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.6

Neither let us envy those who are in high places: the heights that look lofty to us are steep and rugged.

Again, those whom unkind fate has placed in critical situations will be safer if they show as little pride in their proud position as may be, and do all they are able to bring down their fortunes to the level of other men's.

Some insist that being rich is the problem, while others insist that being poor is the problem, but the Stoic will point out that, whatever the situation we find ourselves in, being too proud is the problem. What we have or do not have is only as good or bad as our attitudes.

Some look up with jealousy at those who have, and some look down with disdain at those who have not, and through it all we are forgetting that people are made to look at one another face to face.

Sadly, there is a certain condescension that can too readily accompany wealth and social status, and it is easy to be tricked by it, wherever we stand in the pecking order. We all know that look of smug contempt, the one that pays just enough attention to be hurtful, but not enough attention to make you think that you matter. It stems from a sense of entitlement, and it expresses itself to others as a careless indifference.

I once met the Republican governor of my state, and at another time I met a Democratic candidate for the Presidency, and they both had that same look. Most of the abbots, bishops, and archbishops I have crossed paths with were much the same. I was surprised by how easily I felt intimidated by them.

But being all the way up there is not all it’s cracked up to be. I have occasionally gotten to know so-called privileged folks, and beneath the shiny surface they end up being no different than the rest of us. They are capable of both great good and great evil, and it will ultimately be their moral sense that determines their true human standing.

It is the content of character that is the great social equalizer.

What seems a privilege actually ends up being a responsibility, even a burden. Much is given to such people, but they must see their gifts as a call to service, and they must not lose a common bond with all their fellows. They will be tempted to make themselves as big as they can be, but they will only follow Nature by making themselves as small as they can be.

If I were ever to become rich and powerful, I would hope I could still be happy to look someone in the eye, and not expect him to kiss my ring.

Written in 10/2011

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 121

A Philosopher's school is a Surgery: pain, not pleasure, you should have felt therein. For on entering none of you is whole. 

One has a shoulder out of joint, another an abscess. A third suffers from an issue, a fourth from pains in the head. 

And am I then to sit down and treat you to pretty sentiments and empty flourishes, so that you may applaud me and depart, with neither shoulder, nor head, nor issue, nor abscess a whit the better for your visit? 

Is it then for this that young men are to quit their homes, and leave parents, friends, kinsmen and substance to mouth out "Bravo!" to your empty phrases?

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.5

Moreover, we ought not to allow our desires to wander far afield, but we must make them confine themselves to our immediate neighborhood, since they will not endure to be altogether locked up.

We must leave alone things which either cannot come to pass or can only be effected with difficulty, and follow after such things as are near at hand and within reach of our hopes, always remembering that all things are equally unimportant, and that though they have a different outward appearance, they are all alike empty within.

People will sometimes tell me I can have everything I want, though I find I must consider such a statement closely. Can I really have everything? Should I even want everything?

It is certainly noble to dream big, to make grand plans, to take daring risks, to face every endeavor with courage. We say such things to inspire greatness and to instill confidence, and we wish to make certain that no one becomes any less than he is capable of being.

Let every man follow his own best judgment, and let him then achieve whatever might be within his power. I constantly restrain my vain urges to tell other people how to live, oftentimes in mid-sentence. I would only ask them kindly to work from an informed conscience.

Is it within your power? Far more importantly, is it right to do it? If the former conflicts with the latter, will you choose power over principle?

For myself, I know that it is not possible for me to be made of gold, or stand a thousand feet tall, or turn water into wine, or walk on water, even if I am just pretending to do so by stepping on other people’s heads.

I can speak only for myself, but I know precisely when I have gone well beyond my bounds. I am rightly shamed by it. I vainly demand more than I need, and I arrogantly think myself more than I am.

What is necessary for a good life? There are limits to what I can have outside of me, and the recognition of those limits can hit like a ton of bricks. But there is no limit to what I can be inside of me. By knowing anything at all, by appreciating it, by loving it, I have no bounds to the scope of my soul.

I only run into the same problems, again and again, when I want to make something mine that isn’t mine to begin with. Let it be what it is. Show it respect, even if it is what will end me. It has done its part, and I have done my part.

Distinguo. The breadth may be narrow, while the depth is still limitless.

Written in 10/2011

Aesop's Fables 21

The Jay and the Peacock 

A Jay venturing into a yard where Peacocks used to walk, found there a number of feathers which had fallen from the Peacocks when they were molting. He tied them all to his tail and strutted down towards the Peacocks. 

When he came near them they soon discovered the cheat, and striding up to him pecked at him and plucked away his borrowed plumes. 

So the Jay could do no better than go back to the other Jays, who had watched his behavior from a distance; but they were equally annoyed with him, and told him 

"It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds."

 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.4

All life is slavery: let each man therefore reconcile himself to his lot, complain of it as little as possible, and lay hold of whatever good lies within his reach.

No condition can be so wretched that an impartial mind can find no compensations in it. Small sites, if ingeniously divided, may be made use of for many different purposes, and arrangement will render ever so narrow a room habitable.

Call good sense to your aid against difficulties: it is possible to soften what is harsh, to widen what is too narrow, and to make heavy burdens press less severely upon one who bears them skillfully.

I did not realize how intensely I complained about things until I started taking a regular Stoic inventory of my thoughts and actions. When I made broad and sweeping generalizations about my state of mind, I could tell myself that all was well, but once I paid more conscious attention to the little words and deeds during my day, it became quite apparent that so much of my time and effort was spent on grumbling and protesting.

My intentions were not usually malicious, though it did sometimes come to that, but I can only describe my attitude as one thoroughly permeated with an extreme dissatisfaction. Instead of doing something with myself, the only option I was willing to entertain involved finding fault with my circumstances. A certain dry, cynical dismissiveness crept it, and it didn’t help that I felt drawn to other people of a similar disposition.

I will become no better by constantly being insulted by the world, and I won’t even feel any better by listing my grievances. Picking sides, following this tribe or that, or stewing in resentment works from a place of restlessness and conflict, so no peace can be found there.

By all means, I can observe how others choose to live, understand what moves them, discern what is good and bad in their thoughts and actions, and be willing to learn from it. But I should certainly not define myself in opposition to them. It isn’t judgment that’s the problem, but how I go about making the judgement.

If it is, there is something good within it, and it remains my responsibility to find this for myself. I regularly remind myself that nothing is useless, or offensive, or boring, unless I have decided to make it so. The problem is in here, not out there.

If it is necessary, and if only I so choose, the most meager resources can be made abundantly fruitful, much like a tiny room can be made livable and comfortable with a bit of care and ingenuity. How foolish of me to expect that things should be made bearable for me, when all I have to do is make them bearable for myself.

I complain that there’s nothing on television, and I forget that I have myself, and I live in a whole wide world.

Written in 10/2011

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 3.13

Of the obedience of one in lowly subjection after the example of Jesus Christ

1. "My Son, he who strives to withdraw himself from obedience, withdraws himself also from grace, and he who seeks private advantages, loses those which are common unto all. If a man does not submit freely and willingly to one set over him, it is a sign that his flesh is not yet perfectly subject to himself, but often resists and murmurs. Learn therefore quickly to submit yourself to him who is over you, if you seek to bring your own flesh into subjection. For the outward enemy is very quickly overcome if the inner man has not been laid low. There is no more grievous and deadly enemy to the soul than you are to yourself, if you are not led by the Spirit.You must not altogether conceive contempt for yourself, if you will prevail against flesh and blood. Because as yet you inordinately love yourself, therefore you shrink from yielding yourself to the will of others.

2. "But what great thing is it that you, who are dust and nothingness, yields yourself to man for God's sake, when I, the Almighty and the Most High, who created all things out of nothing, subjected Myself to man for your sake? I became the most humble and despised of men, that by My humility you might overcome your pride. Learn to obey, O dust! Learn to humble yourself, O earth and clay, and to bow yourself beneath the feet of all. Learn to crush your passions, and to yield yourself in all subjection.

3. "Be zealous against yourself, nor suffer pride to live within you, but so show yourself subject and of no reputation, that all may be able to walk over you, and tread you down as the clay in the streets. What have you, O foolish man, of which to complain? What, O vile sinner, can you answer those who speak against you, seeing you have so often offended God, and many a time have deserved hell? But My eye has spared you, because your soul was precious in My sight; that you might know My love, and might be thankful for My benefits; and that you might give yourself altogether to true subjection and humility, and patiently bear the contempt which you merit."

Stoic Snippets 25

I affirm that tranquillity is nothing else than the good ordering of the mind. Constantly then give to yourself this retreat, and renew yourself. 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 4.3

Knots

M.C. Escher, Knots Colour (1965)

Boethius and Philosophy

Mattia Preti, Boethius and Philosophy (c. 1680)

Hans Holbein, The Dance of Death 11: The Queen

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.33

“As a better man than I has said, ‘The powers of virtues build up the body of a good man.’

“It often happens that the duty of a supreme authority is assigned to good men for the purpose of pruning the insolent growth of wickedness.

“To some, Providence grants a mingled store of good and bad, according to the nature of their minds.

“Some she treats bitterly, lest they grow too exuberant with long continued good fortune. Others she allows to be harassed by hardships that the virtues of their minds should be strengthened by the habit and exercise of patience.

Some have too great a fear of sufferings which they can bear; others have too great contempt for those which they cannot bear: these she leads on by troubles to make trial of themselves.

“Some have brought a name to be honored for all time at the price of a glorious death. Some by showing themselves undefeated by punishment, have left a proof to others that virtue may be invincible by evil.

“What doubt can there be of how rightly such things are disposed, and that they are for the good of those whom we see them befall?”

—from Book 4, Prose 6

We are all quite familiar with a model of justice where the righteous should have things granted to them, while the unrighteous should have them taken away. Given that we view wealth, power, and honor as desirable commodities, it makes sense that we would accordingly distribute them based upon our measure of merit, employing their presence or absence as rewards or punishments.

We remember it from school, and it passed effortlessly into our adult lives. For many of us, it soon became an automatic association between good character and good fortune on the one hand, and bad character and bad fortune on the other. Decent people got promotions, and the criminal element went to prison.

As effective as the stick and the carrot may appear, is this the only way to achieve a deeper justice? I wondered, from an early age, if it always worked out the way it should, because the debits and credits didn’t necessarily seem to add up. If I looked closely, I also saw that prosperity made some people worse, and if I looked even more closely, I also saw that hardship made some people better.

Was it perhaps our assumption that wealth was always beneficial, and poverty was always harmful, that was getting in the way? Didn’t it encourage a reversal of priorities, where one simply behaved, followed the rules, and colored inside the lines as a means to becoming successful, instead of viewing the life of virtue as its own success? If character was just a stepping-stone to something better, was it really a measure of merit at all? Is this why so many people seemed to cheat, worried more about appearing good than being good?

Most of my betters frowned upon these sorts of questions, which made me wonder if they were hiding something, or perhaps afraid that the whole edifice would collapse if we didn’t keep our blinders on.

Perhaps our system of rewards and punishments is the best that humans can do, limited as we are in the scope of our knowledge and power. Perhaps Providence, having no limits in the scope of her knowledge and power, can do something more.

If the content of character is indeed the human end, and not merely a means, then any other conditions will be relative to it. There are times when giving me more will help me to improve myself, and there are times when giving me less will help me to improve myself.

Fortune spins her wheel, and I should not assume that those who go up are necessarily blessed, while those who go down are necessarily cursed. The image reminds me that the fruits of life will come and go, that circumstances are fickle, but it need not be some random or heartless game. If there is Divine Mind behind all things, then it must all work for a purpose, however obscure it is in my eyes.

A few always seem to get ahead, and a few always seem to fall behind. We carelessly and heartlessly call them “winners” and “losers”, though we are not at all considering how they will choose to respond to their place on the wheel, and whether they will take the opportunity from it to live well.

Most of us seem to get a mixed bag, and it isn’t always clear why this happens as it does. Careful, honest, and humble reflection, however, can reveal how certain events, however insignificant they at first seemed, can be a point of focus for us. We stand at the crossroads, and the smallest things may inspire us to pick one path or another.

And some of us, however pure our intentions, however hard we struggle to be good, seem to get more and more obstacles thrown in our way. It hardly comes across as fair, and that is probably because I am looking at the part and not the whole.

There are times, for all of us, when trouble and strife make it possible to become stronger, not by a mastery over others, but by a mastery over ourselves.

There are also times, for all of us, when what we choose to do will have an effect on others we might not foresee, where our sacrifices, even to the point of death, might give heart to others who struggle.

We may become great cooperators with Providence, taking the little bits of wisdom and love within us and passing them on to others.

Written in 11/2015

Haywain Triptych

Hieronymus Bosch, The Haywain Triptych (c. 1516)

link to a high definition version (Prado version)

Vanitas 12

David Rijckaert, Vanitas Interior Scene with a Scholar (c. 1650)

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 10.3

We are all chained to Fortune. Some men's chain is loose and made of gold, that of others is tight and of meaner metal; but what difference does this make?

We are all included in the same captivity, and even those who have bound us are bound themselves, unless you think that a chain on the left side is lighter to bear.

One man may be bound by public office, another by wealth.

Some have to bear the weight of illustrious birth, some of humble birth.

Some are subject to the commands of others, some only to their own.

Some are kept in one place by being banished there, others by being elected to the priesthood.

There is a common assumption, that since we are all dealt different hands in life, we are all therefore given different degrees of freedom and happiness. The second statement does not follow from the first, however, and it rests only on the false premise that having more or having less means being more or being less.

All external circumstances, in whatever form they take, will act as limitations on our liberty. It is fittingly ironic that the more we try to bend them to our wills, the more tightly they take a hold on us. We think we are so close to having mastered our situations, and then we only find that the master has unwittingly made himself the slave.

Perhaps I am painfully aware of the chains that bind me, while I look to my neighbor, and I think I see no chains on him at all. I grow resentful and jealous, and I direct my efforts to becoming more like him, to becoming the idealized self-made man. I desire as much wealth as he has, all the seeming power he possesses, the smiling friends who always surround him, the leisure and luxury that appear to make his life so carefree.

Some people have developed entire philosophies, whole systems of social progress, on the struggle between the “haves” and the “have-nots”, working from the theory that fighting one’s way from the latter group to the former will bring satisfaction.

A particular version of the American Dream, for example, would have it that we can become happy by having the freedom to acquire our own private wealth. The Socialist will insist that the dream can only be achieved when all property is shared in common. Both models, however, define the worth of a man by what he has.

I have not thought through what it means for me to live well, and I have not looked carefully enough to see that all of us, regardless of our class or position, carry the weight of chains. If I suddenly had everything my neighbor has, I would still find myself filled with fear and anxiety.

Poverty may be the burden I must bear, and yet wealth is also a burden for the man who receives it. I become obsessed with wanting more, and he becomes obsessed with keeping a hold on what he owns.

I may feel insignificant because no one pays attention to me, and he feels smothered because everyone pays attention to him.

I am sure I am powerless because he controls every aspect of my life, by slowly selling me my house or granting me the trickle of my wages, and he is also sure that he is powerless, by being tied to all his many obligations and paying back all the favors that got him to where he is now.

Prosperity, or high office, or influence do not buy freedom; they are only different sorts of shackles.

Written in 10/2011

The Wayfarer

Hieronymus Bosch, The Wayfarer (c. 1500)

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 14

11. In whatever way men worship Me, in the same way do I fulfill their desires: it is My path, O son of Prithâ, that men tread, in all ways.

12. Longing for success in action, in this world, men worship the gods. Because success, resulting from action, is, quickly attained in the human world.

13. The fourfold caste was created by Me, by the differentiation of Guna and Karma. Though I am the author thereof, know Me to be the non-doer, and changeless.

14. Actions do not taint Me, nor have I any thirst for the result of action. He who knows Me thus is not fettered by action.

15. Knowing thus, the ancient seekers after freedom also performed action. Do you, therefore, perform action, as did the ancients in olden times.

16. Even sages are bewildered, as to what is action and what is inaction. I shall therefore tell you what action is, by knowing which you will be freed from evil.

17. For verily, the true nature even of action enjoined by the Shâstras (Precepts) should be known, as also, that of forbidden action, and of inaction: the nature of Karma is impenetrable.

18. He who sees inaction in action, and action in inaction, he is intelligent among men, he is a Yogi and a doer of all action.

19. Whose undertakings are all devoid of plan and desire for results, and whose actions are burnt by the fire of knowledge, him, the sages call wise.

20. Forsaking the clinging to fruits of action, ever satisfied, depending on nothing, though engaged in action, he does not do anything.

—Bhagavad Gita, 4:11-20

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.2

Of these the hardest to bear are blows. That there is nothing shameful or insulting about them however is clear from the fact that Lacedaemonian boys are whipped publicly, and they exult in it.

My attempts at following Stoicism have greatly helped me in seeking after first principles. For every problem I must face, the temptation is to look only to the particular situation, without ever going back to the deeper causes. I obsess about the immediate what, and give no attention to the ultimate why. I must dig deeper than this or that instance, and consider how it relates to my own nature within the whole of Nature.

I was recently given the chance to teach a course on Classical notions of justice, and in between the texts I was expected to cover, I managed to slip in this brief lecture from Musonius. The discussion fell apart as soon as we got to this passage.

“What a jerk this guy is! He’s telling me that doing physical harm is just fine? And then he goes on about the Spartans, those fascists, and how it is good that they beat their children, as if that makes his case. Doesn’t he know that it’s never okay to be physically abusive? I think there may be some kind of repressed sadomasochism going on here.”

I am always more than happy to talk about the strengths and weaknesses of Spartan society, or the morality of corporal punishment, or even speculations about the inner psychological workings of authors.

Yet as I encouraged them to work it through, I couldn’t help but think that we were missing the point. We were mucking about with individual issues, informed by wherever the prevailing political winds might blow, and not asking about the more fundamental truth that Musonius was trying to address.

I assume that Musonius is here referring to the Diamastigosis, a formal ritual at the temple of Artemis where young men were flogged until the blood flowed, supposedly intended by Lycurgus as a means to build up courage and resistance to pain. It was not a punishment, but a sort of rite of passage, and it is said that the youths would take pride in their accomplishment, eagerly looking forward to proving their resilience.

Perhaps I might find such a custom cruel, or such a society barbaric, or such means deeply disordered, but Musonius is not concerned here with whether the Spartans were right or wrong in doing what they did.

He simply points out that some people are quite capable of choosing to freely accept physical suffering, and are willing to consider it as something good. They did not feel diminished, abused, or become offended; no, they thought it an honor.

If this is indeed the case, then hardship is not something evil in itself, but rather becomes good or evil by our estimation of it.

I’m afraid I failed to steer our conversation to that one critical point, and so I failed to get to the first principles.

Written in 10/1999

IMAGE: The Diamastigosis

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 14

He showed the utmost endurance, and the greatest frugality; the food he used required no fire to dress, and the cloak he wore was thin. Hence it was said of him:

The cold of winter and the ceaseless rain 
Come powerless against him: weak the dart 
Of the fierce summer sun or racking pain 
To bend that iron frame. He stands apart 
Unspoiled by public feast and jollity: 
Patient, unwearied night and day doth he 
Cling to his studies of philosophy. 

Nay more: the comic poets by their very jests at his expense praised him without intending it. Thus Philemon says in a play, Philosophers:  

This man adopts a new philosophy. 
He teaches to go hungry: yet he gets 
Disciples. One sole loaf of bread his food; 
His best dessert dried figs; water his drink. 

Others attribute these lines to Poseidippus.  

By this time he had almost become a proverb. At all events, "More temperate than Zeno the philosopher" was a current saying about him. Poseidippus also writes in his Men Transported: 

So that for ten whole days 
More temperate than Zeno's self he seemed.

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.27

IMAGE: Rembrandt, Seated Beggar and His Dog (1629)

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.1

Lecture 10: Will the philosopher prosecute anyone for personal injury? 

He said that he himself would never prosecute anyone for personal injury nor recommend it to anyone else who claimed to be a philosopher. For actually none of the things which people fancy they suffer as personal injuries are an injury or a disgrace to those who experience them, such as being reviled or struck or spit upon. 

Children can do both truly wonderful and truly horrible things, and in this they are only little instances of all of human nature. When I was five years old, our family moved to a new home in a new neighborhood, and I had before me the exciting but frightening prospect of seeing if I could come across some new friends.

It would be an early lesson about the good and the bad in people, about discovering kindness in some and malice in others, though I don’t really know if it was a relief or a frustration to see that folks, both young and old alike, were really all made of the same stuff. I could already discern something about the same patterns, popping up over and over from place to place and from time to time.

My new little corner of the world had an odd quirk, however, one that has vividly stuck in my memory now for many years. If children, in quite the range of ages, started arguing with too much gusto, the whole conversation would break down. The aggrieved parties would retreat back to the confines of their own yards and continue to yell loudly at one another from a distance.

“Don’t you dare come onto my property! If you do, I’ll sue you! I’ll sue you!” This was often accompanied by wild gestures, indicating the limits of said domains. When I asked my parents about this ritual, they rolled their eyes and mumbled something about how we had become a “litigious society”. I didn’t understand what they meant then, but I most certainly do now.

Whether it be the children bickering around the neighborhood, or the adults fighting it out in the office buildings downtown, the tendency is all too familiar. It may begin with whispered gossip, continue with insults and raised voices, and perhaps even proceed to the trading of blows. The grown-ups, of course, tend to frown upon physical force, so they may appeal to other more subtle, but equally violent, means of doing harm. Instead of punching you in the face, they can make sure you never find work again.

When all these avenues have been exhausted, and the anger is still not satisfied, people are tempted to appeal to a higher judgment. They complain to a superior, or report it to the authorities, or bring it to the law courts. God tends to advise forgiveness, so He will not be of much use here, though a misguided clergyman can certainly help you exact your revenge, if you are so inclined.

And revenge is really what it all too easily ends up being about, inflicting hurt when we feel that we have been hurt. We may call it justice, or the rule of law, or righting a wrong, but I wonder if what we often really intend is retaliation, the imposition of force, or outdoing one wrong with another wrong.

We can indeed debate the specifics of the terms, but we can know the real difference by looking into our own hearts and minds, by asking ourselves what we really wish to achieve: is it to find a benefit for all, or is to seek a benefit for some through a harm to others?

Instead of an accusation, or a lawsuit, or a condemnation being an absolute last resort, it becomes a casual routine. Instead of a punishment being a form of restoring balance, it becomes an expression of contempt. Instead of seeking to reform the offender, we take satisfaction in destroying him.

The Stoic avoidance of vengeance begins with the realization that, as social creatures, we are all made for one another, not to stand in opposition to one another. Yet it goes even further than that, by reminding us that so many of the things we perceive as insults, offenses, or injuries need not really do us any deeper harm at all. Why should we feel resentment for what only hurts us if we ourselves allow it to do so?

Yes, a man may damage my property, or weaken my reputation, or bring pain on my body, and he himself indeed commits a wrong by doing so, but he only affects what is on the outside of me, not what is on the inside of me. He has gravely damaged his own soul, even as mine can remain intact. Where is the greater hurt? His vice does not need to become mine, as long as I do not respond with hatred.

Once again, the Stoic Turn involves far more than just tweaking or rearranging our usual customs; it asks us to rebuild all our judgments from the bottom up, to never meet evil with evil, and to always take control over whether or not we decide to take offense.

Written in 10/1999