One of the concepts that comes up most frequently in Seneca's letters to his friend Lucilius is fortune. If one were to make a list of the letters in which the word "fortune" appears and a list of the letters in which it does not occur, I think the first list would be longer than the second. In Letter 98, for example, Seneca writes:
"All the things that fortune favors become fruitful and pleasant only if those who possess them are also in possession of themselves and not in the power of their property. It is a mistake, Lucilius, to judge fortune responsible for anything that is good or bad for us. Fortune merely gives us the material for good and bad things -- the preliminaries for what will either turn out to be good or bad within us. For the mind is more powerful than every act of fortune: by itself the mind guides its affairs one way or the other, and is the cause of a happy or unhappy life for itself. A bad mind turns everything into bad, even things that have arrived looking excellent. A mind that is upright and sound corrects fortune's wrongs, softens its hardness and roughness with the knowledge of how to endure, receives prosperity with gratitude and moderation, and shows firmness and fortitude in face of adversity. You could be sensible, do everything with good judgment and never exceed your strength, but you will not achieve the good that is sound and beyond threat unless you are secure in dealing with what is insecure."
In my own case, I have had a brush with misfortune recently (thankfully not a very serious brush, but a brush nonetheless). Regular readers of this blog may recall that I took early retirement last year, and that it was several months before I found another job. Eventually, I accepted a position as a contract attorney on a project that was supposed to last six months. However, after three months, myself and the other 20 or so other lawyers on the project were told -- with less than one day's warning -- that the job was ending early (we were not told why). Following Seneca's advice, I attempted to focus my mind on finding another position, and -- fortunately -- found a new project within about a week. Although this job is expected to last around a month, I hope the episode has taught me the importance of not dwelling upon what many would characterize as "bad luck" (the modern term for misfortune) but rather to be comfortable with insecurity.
_______________
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 98, 2-3, pages 386-387.
Monday, May 7, 2018
Monday, April 30, 2018
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.
_______________
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.
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.
_______________
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.
Monday, April 23, 2018
11: Nature Versus nature
As mentioned in my post of 1/19/18, one of the fundamental teachings of Stoicism is that its adherents should strive to live "in accordance with nature." However, in his eleventh letter to Lucilius, Seneca uses the word nature in more than one sense. The issue came up in the context of a visit to Seneca by a young friend of Lucilius. Seneca was impressed by this young person's talent and intelligence, and was charmed when he blushed out of modesty:
"I suspect he is one who will retain this tendency even when he has fully grown up and has rid himself of every fault -- even when he is wise. For natural flaws of body or mind are not removed by any amount of wisdom: what is innate and implanted may be mitigated by treatment but not overcome. ... These things are not eliminated either by training or by any amount of practice; no, nature exerts its force, using these flaws to remind even the strongest of what their nature is. I am sure that blushing is one of these things; for even in the soberest of grown men it still arises, and suddenly too. ... such characteristics are not cast out by any amount of wisdom. If wisdom could erase all defects, it would have nature itself under its charge. All contributions made by the circumstances of one's birth and one's bodily temperament will remain with us after the mind has at length managed in large part to settle itself. None of these can be ordered down, any more than they can be summoned at will."
Seneca also mentions several Roman politicians who struggled with blushing well after their youth was over.
The Stoic emperor Marcus Aurelius lived in the century following Seneca's death. In his Meditations, Marcus shows a knack for boiling things down to their essence -- which is probably why he is still being read, almost two thousand years later. According to Marcus: "... don't treat anything as important except doing what your nature demands, and accepting what Nature sends you." So according to the Stoics, each of us has his or her own personal nature (with a small "n"), but we are all subject to Nature (with a capital "N").
__________________
References:
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations: A New Translation, with an Introduction, by Gregory Hays (The Modern Library, New York, 2003), Book 12, 32, page 169.
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 11, 1-4, pages 46-47, and 6, page 47.
"I suspect he is one who will retain this tendency even when he has fully grown up and has rid himself of every fault -- even when he is wise. For natural flaws of body or mind are not removed by any amount of wisdom: what is innate and implanted may be mitigated by treatment but not overcome. ... These things are not eliminated either by training or by any amount of practice; no, nature exerts its force, using these flaws to remind even the strongest of what their nature is. I am sure that blushing is one of these things; for even in the soberest of grown men it still arises, and suddenly too. ... such characteristics are not cast out by any amount of wisdom. If wisdom could erase all defects, it would have nature itself under its charge. All contributions made by the circumstances of one's birth and one's bodily temperament will remain with us after the mind has at length managed in large part to settle itself. None of these can be ordered down, any more than they can be summoned at will."
Seneca also mentions several Roman politicians who struggled with blushing well after their youth was over.
The Stoic emperor Marcus Aurelius lived in the century following Seneca's death. In his Meditations, Marcus shows a knack for boiling things down to their essence -- which is probably why he is still being read, almost two thousand years later. According to Marcus: "... don't treat anything as important except doing what your nature demands, and accepting what Nature sends you." So according to the Stoics, each of us has his or her own personal nature (with a small "n"), but we are all subject to Nature (with a capital "N").
__________________
References:
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations: A New Translation, with an Introduction, by Gregory Hays (The Modern Library, New York, 2003), Book 12, 32, page 169.
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 11, 1-4, pages 46-47, and 6, page 47.
Monday, April 9, 2018
24: Negative Visualization
As mentioned in my post of 3/18/18 ("An Artist At Friend-Making"), I have not agreed with all of the advice that Seneca imparts to his friend Lucilius. But I did come across some guidance in Letter 24, that I can't argue with. Seneca begins that letter by recounting Lucilius' anxiety about a lawsuit that has been filed against him by an enemy. Seneca refuses to tell his friend to be optimistic about the outcome of the case. Instead, he counsels Lucilius:
"But what I will do is lead you down a different road to tranquility. If you want to be rid of worry, then fix your mind on whatever it is that you are afraid might happen as a thing that definitely will happen. Whatever bad event that might be, take the measure of it mentally and so assess your fear. You will soon realize that what you fear is either no great matter or not long lasting. ... since many external factors have a bearing on the outcome, hope for the best but prepare yourself for the worst. ... Observe what each thing has inside, and you will learn: there is nothing to fear in your affairs but fear itself."
William Irvine, in his A Guide to the Good Life, describes this psychological tool as "negative visualization." The concept is also discussed in a chapter on Seneca in Oliver Burkeman's The Antidote. I have had a chance to employ negative visualization in my own life recently, due to a physical health issue. A series of tests on my heart have confirmed the good news that -- contrary to the opinions of some -- I do in fact have a heart; the bad news is that there appears to be something wrong with it (probably not life-threatening, fortunately). Throughout these tests, the fifth of which is scheduled for later this month, I have tried to keep in mind that the findings may not ultimately prove to be positive. However, by using negative visualization, I have been much less anxious about the outcome than I would have been before coming across Stoic thought.
_______________
References:
Oliver Burkeman, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking (Faber and Faber, Inc., New York, 2012), Chapter 2, pages 23-50.
William B. Irvine, A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy (Oxford University Press, Oxford and New York, 2009), Chapter 4, pages 65-84.
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 24, 2, page 85, and 12, page 87.
"But what I will do is lead you down a different road to tranquility. If you want to be rid of worry, then fix your mind on whatever it is that you are afraid might happen as a thing that definitely will happen. Whatever bad event that might be, take the measure of it mentally and so assess your fear. You will soon realize that what you fear is either no great matter or not long lasting. ... since many external factors have a bearing on the outcome, hope for the best but prepare yourself for the worst. ... Observe what each thing has inside, and you will learn: there is nothing to fear in your affairs but fear itself."
William Irvine, in his A Guide to the Good Life, describes this psychological tool as "negative visualization." The concept is also discussed in a chapter on Seneca in Oliver Burkeman's The Antidote. I have had a chance to employ negative visualization in my own life recently, due to a physical health issue. A series of tests on my heart have confirmed the good news that -- contrary to the opinions of some -- I do in fact have a heart; the bad news is that there appears to be something wrong with it (probably not life-threatening, fortunately). Throughout these tests, the fifth of which is scheduled for later this month, I have tried to keep in mind that the findings may not ultimately prove to be positive. However, by using negative visualization, I have been much less anxious about the outcome than I would have been before coming across Stoic thought.
_______________
References:
Oliver Burkeman, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking (Faber and Faber, Inc., New York, 2012), Chapter 2, pages 23-50.
William B. Irvine, A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy (Oxford University Press, Oxford and New York, 2009), Chapter 4, pages 65-84.
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 24, 2, page 85, and 12, page 87.
Monday, March 26, 2018
10: What Should One Wish Or Pray For?
The subjects of praying and wishing come up often in Seneca's letters to his friend Lucilius. For example, in the tenth letter, Seneca advises Lucilius that, if he is going to pray to the gods, he should ask them for excellence of mind and mental well being before asking for physical health. And in Letter 32, there is the following extraordinary passage:
"There were other things your parents wished for you to have; what I wish for you is to have contempt for all their bountiful wishes. In their prayers, many are robbed to make you rich: whatever they transfer to you, they must take from someone else. My wish is this: may you be your own master; may your mind, which is now driven this way and that by its concerns, come at last to a halt, sure and content in itself; may you come to understand those true goods that belong to you in the moment you understand them, and feel no need of additional years. In order to rise above necessities, to gain one's discharge, to be free, one must live a life that is already complete."
The initial purpose of this blog was to explore the concept of moderation. So my readers will perhaps not find it surprising that I consider myself to be an agnostic, one who has not taken a final position on the issue of whether God exists or does not exist (arguably, both extreme positions). Seneca was most certainly not an agnostic, a topic I intend to explore in another post. And -- contrary to Seneca's advice -- when I have prayed, it has usually been for the physical health of those close to me: my wife, during her two battles with cancer; my mother, when her appendix burst and she had to have emergency surgery; and my aunt, during her two battles with cancer (the second of which has just started). I do not think that such prayers are inconsistent with moderation. But perhaps I am guilty of the charge often leveled against moderates -- that we like to have our cake and eat it, too.
_______________
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 10, 4, page 45; see also Letter 32, 4-5, page 109.
"There were other things your parents wished for you to have; what I wish for you is to have contempt for all their bountiful wishes. In their prayers, many are robbed to make you rich: whatever they transfer to you, they must take from someone else. My wish is this: may you be your own master; may your mind, which is now driven this way and that by its concerns, come at last to a halt, sure and content in itself; may you come to understand those true goods that belong to you in the moment you understand them, and feel no need of additional years. In order to rise above necessities, to gain one's discharge, to be free, one must live a life that is already complete."
The initial purpose of this blog was to explore the concept of moderation. So my readers will perhaps not find it surprising that I consider myself to be an agnostic, one who has not taken a final position on the issue of whether God exists or does not exist (arguably, both extreme positions). Seneca was most certainly not an agnostic, a topic I intend to explore in another post. And -- contrary to Seneca's advice -- when I have prayed, it has usually been for the physical health of those close to me: my wife, during her two battles with cancer; my mother, when her appendix burst and she had to have emergency surgery; and my aunt, during her two battles with cancer (the second of which has just started). I do not think that such prayers are inconsistent with moderation. But perhaps I am guilty of the charge often leveled against moderates -- that we like to have our cake and eat it, too.
_______________
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 10, 4, page 45; see also Letter 32, 4-5, page 109.
Sunday, March 18, 2018
9: An Artist At Friend-Making
In the ninth letter to his friend Lucilius, Seneca discusses one of the disputes between the Stoic school of philosophy (he considers himself to be a Stoic) and their rivals the Epicureans on the issue of whether or not the wise person is self-sufficient. Seneca writes:
"Our position [that of the Stoics] is different from theirs [the Epicureans] in that our wise person conquers all adversities, but still feels them; theirs does not even feel them. That the sage is self-sufficient is a point held in common between us; yet even though he is content with himself, he still wishes to have a friend, a neighbor, a companion. ... He is self-sufficient, not in that that he wants to be without a friend, but in that he is able to -- by which I mean that he bears the loss with equanimity. But in truth he will never be without a friend, for it rests with him how quickly he gets a replacement. Just as Phidias [a famous sculptor in ancient Athens], if he should lose one of his statues, would immediately make another, so this artist at friend-making will substitute another in place of the one who is lost."
My late friend Brian Lingle was an artist at friend-making. Brian died suddenly around this time three years ago. At his funeral, our mutual friend John gave a moving (and humorous) eulogy, in which he remarked that many of Brian's friends considered him to be their best friend. In my own case, I went through a major depressive episode around the turn of the millennium, which included one week in the hospital and one month off from work. For a year after that -- and perhaps longer -- Brian would drive to my house every Saturday or Sunday morning (regardless of the Chicago weather) in his barely-functioning old car, so that we could go for a run together along the shores of Lake Michigan. His concern for me, which he showed in actions more than in words, was a major factor in my recovery.
In my reading of Seneca, despite the passage of two thousand years between us, I find myself in agreement with much of what he had to say. But on at least one point I disagree with him: although I have other friends, and hope to make more, I will never find a substitute for Brian.
_______________
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 9, 3-5, page 40.
"Our position [that of the Stoics] is different from theirs [the Epicureans] in that our wise person conquers all adversities, but still feels them; theirs does not even feel them. That the sage is self-sufficient is a point held in common between us; yet even though he is content with himself, he still wishes to have a friend, a neighbor, a companion. ... He is self-sufficient, not in that that he wants to be without a friend, but in that he is able to -- by which I mean that he bears the loss with equanimity. But in truth he will never be without a friend, for it rests with him how quickly he gets a replacement. Just as Phidias [a famous sculptor in ancient Athens], if he should lose one of his statues, would immediately make another, so this artist at friend-making will substitute another in place of the one who is lost."
My late friend Brian Lingle was an artist at friend-making. Brian died suddenly around this time three years ago. At his funeral, our mutual friend John gave a moving (and humorous) eulogy, in which he remarked that many of Brian's friends considered him to be their best friend. In my own case, I went through a major depressive episode around the turn of the millennium, which included one week in the hospital and one month off from work. For a year after that -- and perhaps longer -- Brian would drive to my house every Saturday or Sunday morning (regardless of the Chicago weather) in his barely-functioning old car, so that we could go for a run together along the shores of Lake Michigan. His concern for me, which he showed in actions more than in words, was a major factor in my recovery.
In my reading of Seneca, despite the passage of two thousand years between us, I find myself in agreement with much of what he had to say. But on at least one point I disagree with him: although I have other friends, and hope to make more, I will never find a substitute for Brian.
_______________
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 9, 3-5, page 40.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
8: Discovering The Right Path Late In Life
There are not often explicit transitions between Seneca's letters, but his eighth letter to Lucilius does have such a transition. In the seventh letter, Seneca advised his friend to avoid crowds with phrases like "Direct your goods inward" and "Retreat into yourself". At the beginning of Letter 8, Seneca reports Lucilius' reaction to Letter 7, asking if Seneca's approach is inconsistent with the Stoic teaching to live an active life. Seneca responds:
"Well, do you think this is inaction that I am urging upon you? Here is the reason that I have hidden myself away and closed the doors: to benefit the greater number. Not one of my days is spent in leisure, and I claim a part of the nights for study. I have no time for sleep, until it overcomes me; my eyes are exhausted and drooping with late hours, but I keep them to the task. I have withdrawn not only from society but from business, and especially from my own business. The work that I am doing is for posterity: it is they who can benefit from what I write. I am committing to the page some helpful admonitions, like recipes for useful salves. I have found these effective on my own sores, which, even if not completely healed, have ceased to spread. The right path, which I myself discovered late in life when weary from wandering, I now point out to others."
I have no illusions about writing for posterity; however, on a personal level, I do believe that I have recently turned onto a better path. For much of my 29-year career, I seemed to alternate between "individual contributor" jobs and "manager" positions. The management jobs usually paid more, but I found them to be more stressful and less interesting. My current role as a contract attorney is in the individual contributor mode, and -- among other advantages -- I find that I have the mental energy to continue blogging (albeit mostly on the weekends).
Speaking of blogging (and of discovering the right path) Real Delia is about finding oneself in adulthood, and I highly recommend it. Full disclosure, Delia Lloyd is my cousin, but don't hold that against her!
_______________
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 8, 1-3, pages 37-38; see also Letter 7, 8, page 36.
"Well, do you think this is inaction that I am urging upon you? Here is the reason that I have hidden myself away and closed the doors: to benefit the greater number. Not one of my days is spent in leisure, and I claim a part of the nights for study. I have no time for sleep, until it overcomes me; my eyes are exhausted and drooping with late hours, but I keep them to the task. I have withdrawn not only from society but from business, and especially from my own business. The work that I am doing is for posterity: it is they who can benefit from what I write. I am committing to the page some helpful admonitions, like recipes for useful salves. I have found these effective on my own sores, which, even if not completely healed, have ceased to spread. The right path, which I myself discovered late in life when weary from wandering, I now point out to others."
I have no illusions about writing for posterity; however, on a personal level, I do believe that I have recently turned onto a better path. For much of my 29-year career, I seemed to alternate between "individual contributor" jobs and "manager" positions. The management jobs usually paid more, but I found them to be more stressful and less interesting. My current role as a contract attorney is in the individual contributor mode, and -- among other advantages -- I find that I have the mental energy to continue blogging (albeit mostly on the weekends).
Speaking of blogging (and of discovering the right path) Real Delia is about finding oneself in adulthood, and I highly recommend it. Full disclosure, Delia Lloyd is my cousin, but don't hold that against her!
_______________
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 8, 1-3, pages 37-38; see also Letter 7, 8, page 36.
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