The Daily Stoic - Seneca on Despising Death
Episode Date: February 13, 2022Today’s episode is an excerpt from The Tao Of Seneca produced by Tim Ferriss’ Audio. In this letter Seneca writes about why we should not get upset about future problems by making them a ...problem of the present. Go to tim.blog/seneca to get the PDF for free. Get Letters From a Stoic from the Painted Porch.As a member of Daily Stoic Life, you get all our current and future courses, 100+ additional Daily Stoic email meditations, 4 live Q&As with bestselling author Ryan Holiday (and guests), and 10% off your next purchase from the Daily Stoic Store. Sign up at https://dailystoic.com/life/ Sign up for the Daily Stoic email: https://dailystoic.com/dailyemailCheck out the Daily Stoic Store for Stoic inspired products, signed books, and more.Follow us: Instagram, Twitter, YouTube, TikTok, FacebookSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
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Welcome to the weekend edition of the Daily Stoic. Each weekday we bring you a meditation inspired by the ancient Stoics,
something to help you live up to those four Stoic virtues of courage, justice, temperance, and wisdom. And then here on
the weekend, we take a deeper dive into those same topics. We interview stoic philosophers, we
explore at length how these stoic ideas can be applied to our actual lives and the challenging
issues of our time. Here on the weekend when you have a little
bit more space when things have slowed down, be sure to take some time to think, to go
for a walk, to sit with your journal, and most importantly to prepare for what the week
ahead may bring.
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Hey, it's Ryan. Welcome to a Sunday episode of the Daily Stoke Podcast.
I'm talking to a friend of mine who is dealing with like a negative news article that's going
to come out about him.
He's got a good sense that it's going to be negative.
Could come out tomorrow.
Could come out three weeks from now.
Could come out three months from now.
He didn't do anything wrong.
It's sort of being blindsided or set up for this.
That's not important. But I was talking to them about it and I was saying, look, it's going to happen. You're going to get
hit by this train. But is it going to be tomorrow? Is it going to be three weeks from now? Is it
going to be three months from now? That you do not know. But I was cribbed a little of Sena
Kuz advice, which is don't suffer before your time. Don't torture yourself in anticipation of how bad it's going to be, because not only is
it not going to affect anything, it's really just adding the amount of time you're going
to suffer for this thing.
And that's what today's episode is about.
We have an excerpt of one of Senaqa's letters
that my friend Tim Ferris was kind enough to provide
from his wonderful audio book, The Doubt of Senaqa,
which you can get as a PDF,
totally for free at tim.blog.sensaqa.
And you can also buy the audio book on Audible.
Click the link below to get the link directly to that.
But most of this letter is about our greatest fear,
the fear of death, but it's really about not getting
upset about future problems, making them a problem here
in the present.
Don't worry about things ahead of time, right?
Don't suffer in imagination as well as reality.
It is a wonderful little episode, and I'm proud to bring it to you.
Thanks to Tim.
Do check out the Dow of Seneca.
There's not many great audiobooks from the Stoics
out there.
Unfortunately, but Tim put together a great one here.
And as I said, you can get the audiobook totally
for free at tim.blog slash Seneca.
Or if you want to get Seneca's letters in physical form, you can check that out at thepaintedportch.com
where we carry them and some different translations as well. So talk to you soon.
Letter 24 on despising death
death. You write me that you are anxious about the result of a lawsuit, with which an angry opponent
is threatening you, and you expect me to advise you to picture to yourself a happier issue,
and to rest in the alurments of hope.
Why indeed is it necessary to summon trouble, which must be endured soon enough when it has once arrived, or to anticipate trouble and ruin the present through fear of the future. It
is indeed foolish to be unhappy now because you may be unhappy at some future time.
But I shall conduct you to peace of mind by another route. If 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, and you do not spend a long time in gathering illustrations which will strengthen you. Every
epoch has produced them. Let your thoughts travel into any era of Roman or foreign history,
and there will frong before you notable examples of high achievement or of high endeavor.
If you lose this case, can anything more severe happen to you than being sent into exile or led to prison?
Is there a worse faith than any man may fear than being burned or being killed? Name such
penalties one by one, and mention the men who have scorned them. One does not need to hunt
for them. It is simply a matter of selection. Sentence of conviction was born by rutilius,
as if the injustice of the decision
were the only thing which annoyed him. Exile was endured by Mutelus with courage, by
Rutilius even with gladness, for the former consented to come back only because his country
called him. The latter refused to return when Sala summoned him, and nobody in those days
said no to Sala. Socrates in prison
discourseed and declined to flee when certain persons gave him the opportunity. He remained
there, in order to free mankind from the fear of two most grievous things. Death and imprisonment.
Mukius put his hand into the fire. It is painful to be burned, but how much more painful
to inflict such suffering upon oneself? Here was a man of no learning, not primed a
face death and pain by any words of wisdom, and equipped only with the courage of a soldier
who punished himself for his fruitless daring. He stood and watched his own right hand falling
away piecemeal on the enemy's brazier, nor did he withdraw the dissolving limb with
its uncovered bones until his foe removed to the fire. He might have accomplished something
more successful in that camp, but never anything more brave.
See how much keen are a brave man is to lay hold of danger than a cruel man is to inflict
it.
Porcena was more ready to pardon Mukyu's for wishing to slay him, than Mukyu's to pardon
himself for failing to slay Porcena.
Oh, say you.
Those stories have been drawn to death in all the schools.
Pretty soon when you reach the topic on despising death, you will be telling me about Kato.
But why should I not tell you about Kato?
How he read Plato's book on that last glorious night with a sword laid at his pillow.
He had provided those two requisites for his last moments, the first that he might have
the will to die, and the second that he might have the means.
So he put his affairs in order, as well as one could put in order that which was ruined
and near its end, and thought that he ought to see to it that no one should have the power
to slay or the good fortune to save, Cato.
Drawing the sword, which he had kept unstained from all bloodshed against the final day, he
cried, "'Fortune, you have accomplished nothing by resisting all my endeavors.
I have fought till now from my country's freedom, and not from my own, I did not strive so
doggedly to be free, but only to live among the free. Now, since the affairs
of mankind are beyond hope, let Kato be withdrawn to safety."
So saying, he inflicted a mortal wound upon his body. After the physicians had bounded
up, Kato had less blood and less strength, but no less courage. Angered now, not only at Caesar,
but also at himself, he rallied his unarmed hands against his wound and expelled, rather
than dismissed, that noble soul which had been so defiant of all worldly power.
I am not now heaping up these illustrations for the purpose of exercising my wit, but
for the purpose of encouraging you to face that which is thought to be most terrible.
And I shall encourage you all the more easily by showing that not only resolute men have
despised that moment when the soul breathes its last, but that certain persons who were
craven in other respects have equaled in this regard the courage
of the bravest.
Take, for example, Scipio, the father-in-law of Nias Pompius.
He was driven back upon the African coast by headwind, and saw his ship in the power
of the enemy.
He therefore pierced his body with a sword, and when they asked where the commander was,
he replied, all is asked where the commander was, he replied,
all is well with the commander.
These words brought him up to the level of his ancestors, and suffered not the glory which
fate gave to the Scipios in Africa to lose its continuity.
It was a great deed to conquer Carthage, but a greater deed to conquer death.
All is well with the commander.
Aught a general to die otherwise, especially one of Kato's generals?
I shall not refer you to history, or collect examples of those men who throughout the
ages have despised death for they are very many.
Consider these times of ours, whose
innervation and overrefinement call forth our complaints. They nevertheless will include
men of every rank, of every lot in life, and of every age, who have cut short their misfortunes
by death. Believe me, Luke-illews, death is so little to be feared that through its good offices nothing is to be feared.
Therefore, when your enemy threatens, listen unconcernedly. Although your conscience makes
you confident yet, since many things have weight which are outside your case, both hope
for that which is utterly just, and prepare yourself against that which is utterly unjust. Remember, however, before all
else to strip things of all the disturbs and confuses and to see what each is at bottom.
You will then comprehend that they contain nothing fearful, except the actual fear.
That you see happening to boys happens also to ourselves, who are only slightly bigger
boys, when those whom they love, with whom they daily associate, with whom they play
appear with masks on, the boys are frightened out of their wits.
We should strip the mask, not only from men, but from things, and restore to each object
its own aspect.
Why dost thou hold up before my eyes, swords, fires, and a throng of executioners raging
about thee?
Take away all that vain show, behind which thou lurkest and scarest fools are, thou art
not but death, whom only yesterday a man servant of mine and a maid servant did despise.
White Ostao again unfold and spread before me with all that great display, the whip, and
the rack.
Why are those engines of torture made ready, one for each several member of the body, and
all the other innumerable machines for tearing a man apart piecemeal?
A way with all such stuff, which makes us numb with terror,
and thou, silence the groans, the cries, and the bitter shrieks, ground out of the victim,
as he is torn on the rack. Forsooth thou art not but pain,
scorned by yonder gout-ridden wretch, endured by yonder de speptic in the midst of his dainty's born bravely by the girl in
Trivale.
Slight Thalart if I can bear thee.
Short Thalart if I cannot bear thee.
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Ponder these words which you have often heard and often uttered.
Moreover, prove by the result whether that what you have heard and uttered is true. For there
is a very disgraceful charge often brought against our school, that we deal with the words
and not with the deeds of philosophy.
What, have you only at this moment learned that death is hanging over your head, at this
moment exile, at this moment grief? you were born to these perils.
Let us think of everything that can happen as something which will happen.
I know that you have really done what I advise you to do.
I now warn you not to drown your soul in these petty anxieties of yours.
If you do, the soul will be dulled, and will have two little vigor left
when the time comes for it to arise. Remove the mind from this case of yours to the case
of men in general. Say to yourself, that our petty bodies are mortal and frail. Paying
can reach them from other sources, then from wrong or the might of the stronger. Our pleasures
themselves become torments. Banquets bring indigestion, carousels paralysis of the muscles and
palsy, sensual habits affect the feet, the hands, and every joint of the body. I may become a
poor man. I shall then be one among many. I may be exiled. I shall then regard
myself as born in the place to which I shall be sent. They may put me in chains. What
then? Am I free from bonds now? Behold, this clogging burden of a body to which nature
has fettered me. "'I shall die,' you say.
You mean to say, "'I shall cease to run the risk of sickness.
I shall cease to run the risk of imprisonment.
I shall cease to run the risk of death.'"
I am not so foolish as to go through with this juncture the arguments which Epicurus
harps upon, and say that the terrors of the world below
are idle, that Ixion does not whirl round on his wheel, that Sisyphus does not shoulder his stone
uphill, that a man's entrails cannot be restored and devoured every day, no one is so childish as
to fear Cerberus, or the shadows, or the spectral garb of those who are held together by not what their unflashed
bones. Death either annihilates us or strips us bare. If we are then released, there remains
the better part after the burden has been withdrawn. If we are annihilated, nothing remains.
Good and bad are alike removed.
Allow me at this point to quote a verse of yours, first suggesting that, when you wrote
it, you meant it for yourself no less than for others. It is ignoble to say one thing and
mean another, and how much more ignoble to write one thing and mean another.
I remember one day you were handling the well-known commonplace,
that we do not suddenly fall on death, but advance towards it by slight degrees, we die every day.
For every day, a little of our life is taken from us, even when we are growing, our life is on the wane. We lose our childhood, then our boyhood,
and then our youth. Counting even yesterday, all past time, is lost time. The very day
which we are now spending is shared between ourselves and death. It is not the last drop
that empties the water-clock, but all that which previously has flowed out.
Similarly, the final hour when we cease to exist does not of itself bring death. It merely
of itself completes the death process. We reach death at that moment, but we have been
a long time on the way.
In describing the situation, you said in your customary style, for you are always impressive
but never more pungent than when you are putting the truth in appropriate words.
Not single is the death which comes.
The death which takes us off is but the last of all.
I prefer that you should read your own words rather than my letter, for then it will be
clear to you that this death of which we are afraid is the last but not the only death.
I see what you are looking for, you are asking what I have packed into my letter, what
inspiriting saying from some mastermind what useful precept. So I shall send you
something dealing with this very subject which has been under discussion.
Epicurus abrades those who crave as much as those who shrink from death.
It is absurd, he says, to run towards death because you are tired of life when it is
your manner of life that has made you run towards death because you are tired of life when it is your manner of life that
has made you run towards death.
And in another passage, what is so absurd is to seek death when it is through fear of
death that you have robbed your life of peace, and you may add a third statement of the same
stamp. Men are so thoughtless, nay, so mad that some, through fear of death, force themselves
to die.
Whichever of these ideas you ponder, you will strengthen your mind for the endurance
alike of death and of life.
For we need be warned and strengthened in both directions, not to love or to hate life over
much. Even when reason advises us to make an end of it, the impulse is not to be adopted without
reflection, or at headlong speed. The grave and wise man should not be to hasty retreat from life.
He should make a becoming exit. And above all, he should avoid the weakness which has taken possession of so many, the lust
for death. For just as there is an unreflecting tendency of the mind towards other things, so
my dear Lucilius, there is an unreflecting tendency towards death. This often ceases upon
the noblest and most spirited men, as well as upon the Craven and the abject. The
former despised life. The latter, find it irksome.
Others are also moved by a satiety of doing and seeing the same things, and not so much
by hatred of life as because they are colloid with it. We slip into this condition, while philosophy itself pushes us on, and we say,
how long must I endure the same things? Shall I continue to wake and sleep, be hungry
and be chloid, shiver and perspire? There is an end to nothing. All things are connected
in a sort of circle. They flee, and they are pursued. Night is close at the heels of day, day at
the heels of night, summer ends and autumn, winter rushes after autumn, and winter softens
into spring, all nature in this way passes, only to return.
I do nothing new. I see nothing new. Sooner or later, one seconds of this also.
There are many who think that living is not painful, but superfluous.
Farewell.
Hey, it's Ryan.
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