Seneca,

“I pray that you may get such control over yourself that your mind, now shaken by wandering thoughts, may at last come to rest and be steadfast, that it may be content with itself and, having attained an understanding of what things are truly good, – and they are in our possession as soon as we have this knowledge, – that it may have no need of added years.”

Progress in our school seems to be a funny thing.  In talking with others, there seems to be a stalling out point.  After a year and a half or two, the pace seems to change.  Of course, I suspect the great teachers with the past would tell me not to be concerned about such apparent stalling, but rather work continuously, diligently, nonetheless.

I can recall  a few moments in which I realized that things which previously would have agitated or disturbed me simply did not.  It didn’t require any squelching or bottling up.  It just didn’t have the effect that it once would have.

Those moments, however, now seem fewer and farther between.  It’s in this weird sort of limbo where it’s easy to fall back into an academic study, or let the practice slide.

Neither is good, of course.

The seeming three-tier structure of “the foolish > the prokopton > the sage” is tidy, but it lacks certain helpful benchmarks.  I’ve been trying to study some other forms of meditation to help in my practice, and those schools have thins like “The 16 Stages of Insight Knowledge” and based on that, there are some categories of progress to note.

That sort of thing would be reassuring.  I get the feeling that Epictetus would call me “Slave,” take a swing at me with his stick, and ask if I really need some fancy title and a numbered stage of progress.

I guess that answer is no… but sometimes gold star stickers are nice.

Farewell.

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

Seneca,

Today the phrase which stuck out at me the most was this:

“…they pray for bad things with good intentions.”

Our loved ones do want what’s best for us, but often they misidentify what will yield happiness.  The philosopher is in a particularly tenuous position, as the what she has identified as ‘the good’ is about as far from what the wider society believes to be good.

Musonius talks about honoring our parents, except in the case where our parents might instruct us (even unknowingly) in something non-virtuous.

The society at large, too, has certain expectations.  Some of these are more easily discarded than others.  The task, then, is identifying which of these might influence our own virtue, and handling them appropriately.

There is much food for thought, here.  Thank you for the letter.

Farewell.

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

Seneca,

The part of you letter which really stuck out at me is the observation that men look forward only to that which is sure, and fear that which is uncertain.  Yet death is both of these, and it seems fear gets the better part of it.

I think I’ve mentioned before how today, we hide away death.  It’s clean and sterile.  The even hide the bodies of the dead in the hospital.  Better to not upset the people, that way.

This is a relatively new phenomenon, I expect.  Of course, this changes depending on the place in question, but it’s fair to say most folks were more familiar with death, and at a younger age, than we ourselves are.

Anyone producing their own food, or living far from a doctor would see more death (and life) in four seasons that most of us do in a decade.

I remember when I was fifteen, I saw a dead body for the first time outside of a hospital or funeral home.  It was shocking to me, and had a fairly profound effect.  No one else in my car had seen it; the results of an auto-accident.

But I saw it.  That evening, I was going to a concert, and I barely heard the music, I was thinking about that man on the road.

Death might come knocking at any time, despite our plans and projects.

Your letter today focuses rather on that slow dying process of old age, rather than the abrupt snuffing out; but no one’s time is guaranteed, nor the  manner.

Farewell.

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

Seneca,

The admonition to be wary of the opinion of the crowds is particularly relevant to my time.  We are in the midst of choosing the head of state.  Rightly, by the founding Constitution, the role of President is relatively small:  to sign or veto bills from the Congress, to handle foreign treaties, and when at war to be the Commander in Chief.

Sadly, most Americans view the President as if he is merely sort of elected King!  We seem to clamor after aristocracy and royalty; having replaced that fascination with celebrities and such.

In this instance, there are no good candidates:  I’d settled for good people, but those seem thin on the ground as well.  We have dumb ideas, and evil ideas; then we get the terrifying watchword ‘bi-partisan’ which means something new both evil and stupid.  Occasionally they switch positions, and we’re left with evil ideas and stupid ones.

Suffice it say, I’m inundated with the opinions of the crowd, who seem to be clamoring for Demagogue A or Demagogue B.  We lack statesmen, men and women of character.  We need a Cato.

Farewell.

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

Seneca,

“You need a change of soul rather than a change of climate… your faults will follow you whithersoever you travel. “

Oh, how true this is.  I’ve traveled happily in the past, but most of the time I’ve found that my own issues cloud the trip.  I once spent 10 days on a small island in the Adiratic, a goodly portion of it sitting inside, reading.  Probably missed out on the better parts of the trip, as most would judge it.

My first backpacking trip, I spent miserable and wet.  I couldn’t do much about the second, but the first was all me.

“The person you are matters more than the place to which you go…”

Which of course is the crux of the issue.  Today, the society is tied in knots over ‘what’ a person is, with very little care for who the person is.  We fall to the collectivist fallacy, where the arbitrary classification of peoples becomes the dominant factor:  not simply “the individual.”

“ ‘There were thirty tyrants surrounding Socrates, and yet they could not break his spirit’; but what does it matter how many masters a man has? ‘Slavery’ has no plural; and he who has scorned it is free, – no matter amid how large a mob of over-lords he stands. “

Ah, and the return to my changing understanding of freedom.  You letter hits home with me today, here in my exile.  In a strange land, far from kith and kin.  Under some pressure, but the way I handle it is up to me.  The person I am matter more than where I am or what I’m doing here.

It’s the key thing, and it’s up to me.  Thank you for the reminder.

Farewell.

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

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.