Procrastination

     I want to begin by apologizing for the time that has elapsed since my last post; sadly, I have been guilty of procrastination. Like most lawyers in the USA, I need to earn mandatory continuing legal education credits to keep my law license. And, like many attorneys, I have put off earning the necessary hours until the reporting period is almost over. So this task will occupy much of the time that I am not working or sleeping for the next several weeks.
     It should not be surprising to readers of this blog that Seneca warned about the dangers of procrastination. In his treatise On The Shortness Of Life, he says --
          "Hear the cry of the greatest of poets [Virgil], who sings his salutary song as if inspired with divine utterance: Each finest day of life for wretched mortals is ever the first to flee. 'Why are you holding back?' he says. 'Why are you slow to action? If you don't seize the day, it slips away.' Even when you've seized it, it will still slip away; and so you must compete with time's quickness in the speed with which you use it, and you must drink swiftly as if from a fast-moving torrent that will not always flow. This too the poet very aptly says in chastising interminable procrastination: not each best 'age' but east best 'day.' Carefree and unconcerned even though time flies so quickly, why do you project for yourself months and years in long sequence, to whatever extent your greed sees fit? The poet is speaking to you about the day -- about this very day which is slipping away. So can there be any doubt that each finest day is ever the first to flee for wretched mortals -- that is, the preoccupied? Old age takes their still childish minds unawares, and they meet it unprepared and unarmed; for they've made no provision for it. Suddenly, unsuspecting, they've stumbled upon it, without noticing that it was drawing nearer every day. Just as conversation or reading or some deep reflection beguiles travelers and they find that they've reached their destination before being aware of approaching it, so with this ceaseless and extremely rapid journey of life, which we make at the same pace whether awake or sleeping: the preoccupied become aware of it only at its end."
     The fact that I have just celebrated the 19th anniversary of my 39th birthday should make me even more aware of the dangers of procrastination -- for if I am too preoccupied, old age will sneak up on me.   
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     Seneca, On The Shortness Of Life, translated by Gareth D. Williams, in Hardship & Happiness (University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 2014) Book 9, 2-5, page 119.

12: The Pleasures Of Old Age?

     According to Graver and Long, Seneca was in his 60's when he composed the Letters on Ethics; so it is not surprising that the subject of old age comes up frequently in them. For example, in the twelfth letter, Seneca tells Lucilius about a recent visit to one of his villas (apparently, Seneca had three of them, but his wealth is not the focus of this post). When Seneca arrived at his villa near the city, he was distressed about the decaying condition of the building and complained to the property manager. Seneca was also upset about the poor health of the trees on his land, claiming that they were not being properly watered or fertilized. The manager reminded Seneca that the trees were old and -- since he had planted them himself many years ago -- Seneca realized that the same could be said about him.
     Seneca wrote to Lucilius:
          "My suburban villa has done me a service; it has brought my age before me at every turn. Let us embrace old age and love it. It is full of pleasure if you know what use to make of it. Fruit is sweetest just before it spoils, boyhood most attractive as it is departing; when one is devoted to wine, it is the last drink that brings the most pleasure --  the one that puts you under, giving the final push to inebriation. Every pleasure saves its greatest delights for its last moments. The most pleasurable time of life is on the downhill side, but before the drop-off. Even the time that stands at the very brink has its own pleasures, I believe. Or if not, then it has this instead: one no longer feels the need of any. How sweet it is to have worn out one's desires and left them behind! ... Every day, then, should be treated as though it were bringing up the rear, as though it were the consummation and fulfillment of one's life."
     I am 56 years old, soon to be 57, which is considered middle age in most of the modern world (although perhaps it would have been considered old age in ancient Rome). But there are certainly times when I do feel old. For instance, these days I have to remind myself that if I drink more than one glass of wine or -- what is more likely in my case -- one bottle of ale in the evening, then I will have a splitting headache the next morning. Nevertheless, I will try to keep Seneca's advice in mind.
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      Seneca, Letters on Ethics to Lucilius, Translated with an Introduction and Commentary by Margaret Graver and A.A. Long (University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 2015), Letter 12, 4-5, page 49, and 8, page 50.