Readings From Seneca – Part 1 – The Futility of Running Away

You cannot run away from yourself . . .

For several years of his life, Seneca (c. 4 BC – AD 64) was the guiding hand of the Roman Empire. His timeless writings, which are well portrayed in Letters from a Stoic, were derived mainly from Stoic principles, which had been developed centuries earlier in Athens. In his letters one can see Seneca’s interpretations of the austere ethical ideals of Stoicism, wherein his wit and humanity reveal a moving and inspiring declaration of the dignity of the individual mind.

Stoicism, by definition, is the approach to life in which one, through wisdom, renders himself immune to overmastering emotions and all the setbacks of life–to not let what happens affect him any more than it must. Although an old school of thought and in some cases inapplicable to modern life, it is nonetheless by in large a timeless, universal method of perceiving the world and its events, of conducting a life worth living in which one is not pulled about by the waves of happenings and circumstance, but like a ship at anchor stays in place, tossed though it may be, never to drift astray.

One of the most interesting ways in which Seneca demonstrates the importance of the cultivated mind–and the inescapable nature of ourselves–is his talk of travel in his letters to his friend. Many times in our lives we face the feeling of restlessness, of wanting to get away, the feeling that if we separate ourselves from our present surroundings it will magically rid us of the pall that has gathered over our heads. In some cases this may be true–travel can, in many ways, free one of burdens. But not when the burden is your own mind. Seneca quotes Socrates on this matter:

“How can you wonder your travels do you no good, when you carry yourself around with you?”

Seneca expands on this point in several of his letters, outlining the importance of looking inward and not fleeing from adversity when it is only a product of our misperceptions or lack of mental discipline.

“How can novelty of surroundings abroad and becoming acquainted with foreign scenes or cities be of any help? All that dashing about turns out to be quite futile. And if you want to know why all this running away cannot help you, the answer is simply this: you are running away in your own company. You have to lay aside the load on your spirit. Until you do that, nowhere will satisfy you.”

This is a timeless lesson in how we, as human beings, can make the best out of the worst circumstances or the worst out of the best. It does not matter where we go as much as how we think. The burdens on our spirits–our minds–will affect us far more than our surroundings. What we must do is this: look inward, rather than outward, and develop a sensitivity to our own weaknesses. Once we do that, Seneca demonstrates, everything changes.

“Once you have rid yourself of the affliction there, though, every change of scenery will become a pleasure. You may be banished to the ends of the earth, and yet in whatever outlandish corner of the world you may find yourself stationed, you will find that place, whatever it may be like, a hospitable home.”

When we adopt the right mindset, we can create a happy existence no matter where we are. As many other great minds have echoed, it does not matter what happens, but what we do about it, and how we think–for our thoughts determine who we are. Seneca summarizes it quite well in a single sentence, one I often reread in my journal for its simple yet timeless truth.

“Where you arrive does not matter so much as what sort of person you are when you arrive there.”

We can buy a plane ticket tomorrow and fly to the furthest reaches of the world, but no matter how far we go we are not distancing even a millimeter from ourselves. And since the world is a reflection of us, our perception, it does not matter where we are, but who we are where we are. It is futile to run away from yourself. A life worth living is not as much something you chase after as something you create in yourself–first in your mind, then in your deeds, and at last in your surroundings. We can do this no matter where we are.

“As it is, instead of traveling you are rambling and drifting, exchanging one place for another when the thing you are looking for, the good life, is available everywhere.”

Indeed, we can live happily anywhere in the world if we have the right state of mind. The good life is not in riches, for there are many miserable millionaires, and the same applies to all other worldly passions. They are not bad things to strive for, and indeed some are necessary, but happiness is not in them alone. The good life is available everywhere, because we are wherever we go, and it is us, not what is around us, that determines the quality of our lives.

“A wise man feels his troubles but overcomes them.”

Let us, then, overcome ourselves, and make our minds the best company we could ever ask for.

The good life is waiting.

Keep going . . .