Seneca,

It’s an interesting thing, that we can teach what we most need to learn.  That through helping others, we help ourselves.  One of the challenges anciently, and probably modernly as well, is if we ourselves are not Sages, how can we discuss and even teach philosophy?  If we don’t have virtue, how can we lecture or write about it.

The answer I’ve read elsewhere is that even if we don’t know the Truth, we can teach something true.  You sometimes see this idea in mythology: a thing doesn’t have to be real to be true.

Philosophy, then, seems similar.  We don’t yet have virtue ourselves, but we can still see that it’s desirable.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Today, you give a handful of practices to those who would make progress.  You note the doctrine of the Sage, that we might appoint someone to ‘watch over’ our action, and thereby gain a measure against which we check our own actions.

You give us the retreat within, the Inner Citadel, to protect ourselves from the crowds and multitudes.

You advise us to seek out good company, that we may associate with those whom we would be like.

You also note:

“Let us return to the law of nature; for then riches are laid up for us. The things which we actually need are free for all, or else cheap; nature craves only bread and water. No one is poor according to this standard; when a man has limited his desires within these bounds, he can challenge the happiness of
Jove himself…”

Which is certainly food for thought.  Thank you for the letter.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Your letter on death, that it is not a singular thing but in fact the culmination of a long process is an interesting and true one.  I was thinking this morning about Providence, Fate, determinism, and the cosmos.  Just the little things, right?

I was thinking about determinism and death.  If the cosmos is providentially ordered by the Logos, we are fated to be presented with certain choices.  Chyrsippus well handled the issue of moral culpability, choice, and agency, in my mind, so I won’t re-hash that.  If you’ll permit me to take it for granted that there are some things which are up to us, I’ll do that.

So, we’re fated to be presented with certain choices.  Certain dilemmas and trials.  This is because God, Providence, Nature, the Logos, what have you, determines the wisest and best course for the cosmos.  My test, then, is a test not of my abilities or my endurances per se, but rather a test of my willingness to accept the best for the cosmos.

Can I arrange my will in line with that of Providence?

If we examine the doctrine of Ekpyrosis (Gr: ἐκπύρωσις), then we can take it literally or figuratively.  If literally, then the cosmos will unfold as it has again and again, endlessly.  Until at its culmination it is consumed in the cosmic fire.  Since it is arranged to the best and highest good, we can infer that the same actors, the same choices, and the same situations will arise.  Endlessly.  There is a sort of immortality, then; and we should willingly embrace any hardship including death in the furtherance of virtue.

If we take it figuratively, then we understand that everything will be raised to the level of cosmic fire, the good, the bad, the indifferent.  My choices, then, do not echo into eternity.  The salvation of the Stoic is in the here and now, in virtue.

Both of these are conciliations to the soul.  We should then throw ourselves into any needed hardships, including death, knowing that those tests are ours and they are needed.  Whether it’s the same over and over, or there’s annihilation becomes a moot point, because the result as a motivation for our actions is the same.  We have the opportunity to choose virtue, to choose to bring our will into alignment with the universal logos, the artificial (creative) fire of the cosmos.

If we are working to align ourselves to our highest and best natures (a big if), then there is no need to worry about the choice.  We don’t need to play it safe.  Do the hard thing, when the hard thing is right.

I can easily accept causal determinism, that specific causes yield specific effects.  It is contrary to my normal way of thinking to apply that same criteria to the motivations of rational agents.  Something in me rebels.  For this reason, Chrysippus’ compatiblist stance seems to find the sweet spot.  Me, the self, the ἡγεμονικόν still has the freedom, the choice, to choose correctly.

I don’t yet know that I grok Fate, but slowly, I’m coming to have an appreciation for it.  The measure of death in your letter is a good barometer for that test.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“[I]f you would put off all worry, assume that what you fear may happen will certainly happen in any event; whatever the trouble may be, measure it in your own mind, and estimate the amount of your fear. You will thus understand that what you fear is either insignificant or short-lived.”

It is interesting to find here the example of the premeditatio malorum, which I think is usually attributed to Marcus.

“Remember, however, before all else, to strip things of all that disturbs and confuses, and to see what each is at bottom; you will then comprehend that they contain nothing fearful except the actual fear… We should strip the mask, not only from men, but from things, and restore to each object its own aspect.”

And here we have the muse of Objective Description, that practice which is often attributed to Marcus.  You’ve laid out, if not the letter of the practice, the spirit of it.

It’s Socrates via Plato who says, “…those who practice philosophy in the right way are in training for dying, and they fear death least of all men.”

This is still an issue I’m wrangling with, and so I won’t do either of us the disservice of speaking overly long on it.  When I first started studying Stoicism in earnest, not as a mere interest or hobby, I don’t think I really grokked the importance of the measure against death, the memento mori.  I read about it, thought about it superficially, but even then it was hard to truly hold in my mind.

The young really do feel immortal.  Whether the realities of the situation are finally starting to settle in, or I’m just becoming more comfortable with the ideas of entropy, I don’t know.  But the memento mori is becoming something new for me which it wasn’t even two years ago.

I would like to read more of Cato, even though your letter suggests maybe Lucillius was fed up with that story.  I’ll try to file that away for future reading.  Thank you for the letter, and I look forward to the second part tomorrow.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

It’s entirely possible that I am guilty of “blue car syndrome,” yet I still find myself surprised to find evidence of ascetic training in your Letters.

“The frail body, also, even though we can accomplish nothing without it, is to be regarded as necessary rather than as important; it involves us in vain pleasures, short-lived, and soon to be regretted, which, unless they are reined in by extreme self-control, will be transformed into the opposite.”

Of course, the “Cynic holiday” is your as well, but the issue comes when those of us in my time look back at one of the wealthiest men in the empire, and extols so highly frugality and simple living.  It appears to many to be a contradiction.

When Diogenes tells us from his barrel the same, it has a certain authority which is lacking when heard in the villa retreat.  Ah well, this is more our problem than it is yours.

The more and more I read, the firmer becomes my thesis that you classic Stoics require an austere ascetic regimen as part of training, and then as a part of life.  I’m reading elsewhere the Fragments of Zeno and Cleanthes, and in the introduction, the author states that Zeno’s “frugal” diet was determined by detractors to be on account of his weak digestion.  The author editorializes, however, and states that philosophical motivations are likely just as much the cause.

Many moderns discount what we left of the early Stoa as being “on the tail of the dog,” as if this is argument enough to cast aside the very foundations of the school!  If it is under closer influence of the Cynic school, what of it?  That doesn’t make it wrong.  In fact, it might be closer to the truth.  Epictetus deems the calling of the Cynic as ordained by God, and the hardest charge possible to be given.

It may be that the cultural attitudes of the west are more similar to that of Rome than they are of Greece, esp. those who even then were pushing the envelope.  It’s much more comforting to discount an entire branch (the foundation, no less) as “too Cynic,” when such a discounting protects us from all manner of difficulties, labors, and obligations.

My thoughts have been heavily towards this bent the past few weeks, and receiving your Letters titled “On the futility of half-way measures” and the content of this one seems fortuitous.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Your point today on how we handle “future” philosophy is well taken.  It is an easy and all too common excuse to put off what we know we should do for some later date, but as you said, “Men do not care how nobly they live, but only how long, although it is within the reach of every man to live nobly, but within no man’s power to live long.”

There is certainly motivation enough in the words of the classic Stoics, but most of us are too frightened to embrace them wholesale.  Indeed, we do all manner of mental gymnastics to try and justify to ourselves that we can cut out whole chunks of it, and be left with something just as valuable.

But that’s not the case, is it?

Indeed, no.  In fact, the lie that we can remove the hardship, or (even worse yet) that they Stoics didn’t mean what they said meant, and still have Stoicism proper is the common stance today.  I, too, know what I need to do.  But I’m putting it off, fiddling about with half-way measures and excuses, distracting myself with studies and readings.

It is fair to say I’ve made some progress, myself.  But that progress has been stalled, or plateaued for some time.  Maybe, even, it has slipped back somewhat in the past couple months.  I need a firm kick in the butt, some focus and motivation.

Seven weeks into our letters, and I’ve seen it a number of times.  Yet… still stalled.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“From business, however, my dear Lucilius, it is easy to escape,
if only you will despise the rewards of business.”

That’s the crux of it, isn’t it?  It’s pretty easy to talk a good (and consistent) Stoic game, but do we walk the walk?  The modern student is rightly focused on handling impressions, on reading about logic and ethics, and social duties.  But does she spurn the indifferents which captivate the ἰδιώτης (untrained persons)?  Very rarely.

Half-way measures indeed.  Thank you for the letter, it is providing much food for thought today.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

I do think Epicurus’ point about removing desires is well taken.  That seems in line with Stoic ἀπάθεια and Epicurean ἀταραξία both.

Still, the basic premise that pleasure is a good results in unacceptable consequences.  Epicurus may have been able to subsist on barley and water and find pleasure there, but the modern world is so hedonistic, that such practices are seen ascetic, and dismissed.

I still find Musonius argument, that even were pleasure the highest good, nothing would be more pleasurable than self-control, and if pain the highest evil, nothing more painful than the lack of self-control.

I still very much enjoyed the content of the first half of this letter, from yesterday.  I will write to you again next week.  Thanks.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

The section of your letter which resonates with me the most today, is the observation that “conversion” (for lack of a better term) to a philosophical life is a promotion.

I think you are 100% correct that we do not fully understand our need for progress, or even the path there.  If we did, we’d throw ourselves into it with reckless abandon.  We’d leave everything of the common world behind (so far as we needed to do), and embrace the rigors of the school.

But we don’t.

Thank you for the letter; farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“Poverty will keep for you your true and tried friends; you will be rid of the men who were not seeking you for yourself, but for something which you have. Is it not true, however, that you should love poverty, if only for this single reason, – that it will show you those by whom you are loved?”

I take your letter today in good spirits.  Your recommendation speak to what I myself already know, but for reasons aplenty but slim, have avoided doing.  I can look back to my own life, and see what difference relative wealth can make in regards to “friends.”  Your point is well taken.

As you know, I’ve been interested in the teachings of Musonius, yet I need to become more interested in the practices of Musonius.

“Believe me, your words will be more imposing if you sleep on a cot and wear rags. For in that case you will not be merely saying them; you will be demonstrating their truth.”  — Epicurus

Some of us by nature or nurture, are easily captivated by ideas.  We can chew on a theoretical or hypothetical concept for days or weeks.  We can twist it, wring it out, and get every last drop from it.  And all without even for a moment practicing or emulating the idea.

For those of us, philosophy can be a constant example of how we need to correct our impressions and our work.

“Every man, when he first sees light, is commanded to be content with milk and rags. Such is our beginning, and yet kingdoms are all too small for us!”

Thank you for the letter.  Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.