Letters from a Stoic 101 - On the Futility of Planning Ahead

On the Futility of Planning Ahead

This is a somewhat timely letter to read.  I was just talking to my wife about this subject.  I venture to guess that most people are highly motivated to suck the marrow out of life by pursuit of health, fame, career, wife, husband, children, family, and fortune.  And to be clear - none of these are bad per se; rather they are indifferents.  But the majority of people don't view them as indifferents; rather they view them as goods to pursue.  And in their pursuit of them, they forget to contemplate their death.

what a nothing we are, and [time reminds] us with some fresh evidence that we have forgotten our weakness; then, as we plan for eternity, [time compels] us to look over our shoulders at Death.

Seneca then recounts a man who was good at making money and keeping it and who "lived most simply, careful of health and wealth."

But then, he 

was suddenly seized with an acute attack of quinsy, and, with the breath clogged tightly in his swollen throat, barely lived until daybreak. So within a very few hours after the time when he had been performing all the duties of a sound and healthy man, he passed away.

This is life.

Now, back to what my wife and I were talking about.  Having done a lot of contemplating of my own death, as well as practicing the view from above, I find myself able to very, very quickly pivot from being concerned or anxious or fearful of some aspect of life, and pivot towards acceptance of my fate and even my death.  For example, I might have a bit of motivation for progressing in my career, but after a spell of bad days and even a poor performance ranking, instead of becoming upset, I very quickly realize these outcomes were not up to me and that ultimately I am a miniscule speck in the vast expanse of the cosmos and that I soon will be dust in that chasm of space and void.

This thinking has the intended effect of not letting circumstances upset me.  But, at times, I don't quite stop there and I spin into this cycle of thinking that since nothing really matters in time and space, why should I try to have motivation at all?  But this way of thinking is folly too.  Therefore, I have to 'tap the breaks' a bit and recall the aim of life - demonstration of excellence of character.

And even when some of my motivation wanes in pursuit of arete, there is this notion of: "I have lived!"  This comes from Montaigne and I found it while reading Hadot.  Montaigne "imagines a person who had done nothing all day long, and he responds, 'What, you have done nothing, but have you not lived!  Is that not the most illustrious of your preoccupations!'" (see The Present Alone is our Happiness, p. 125).  "I have lived!"  Life is tough and simply having lived is sometimes enough - it is a valid way to survive.  Don't remain stuck there, but grant yourself the acceptance when you need it.

Between these two poles: existence and non-existence I must find the balance.  The practices of memento mori and 'view from above' keep me grounded in reality.  But I cannot live at that pole.  And the reminder to carpe diem and to 'suck-the-marrow-out-of-life' can lead to a life of overblown expectations.  Therefore, keeping these two in tension becomes my task.  Personally, I drift very easily toward memento mori and therefore, I have to exert a bit more effort to steer my motivations back toward carpe diem.  I call this memento vivere.

To me, it seems in this 101st letter from Seneca, he is addressing the majority of people who are constantly clawing their way towards what they think is the good, while ignoring the present moment.  We need to go about with our lives, but with our eyes wide open.

how foolish it is to set out one's life, when one is not even owner of the morrow! ... everything is doubtful, even for those who are prosperous.

We must live for the present moment; not in a hedonistic sense, but in a fulfilling, satisfied, wise sense.  As if our life were a work of art and each day we are putting the finishing touches on it.

Therefore, let us so order our minds as if we had come to the very end. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life's account every day.  The greatest flaw in life is that it is always imperfect, and that a certain part of it is postponed. One who daily puts the finishing touches to his life is never in want of time.

Have we paid the dues owed to our soul?  Have we reconciled our divine nature with the Whole?  If so, then we can say,

I have paid my soul its due, when a soundly-balanced mind knows that a day differs not a whit from eternity – whatever days or problems the future may bring – then the soul looks forth from lofty heights and laughs heartily to itself when it thinks upon the ceaseless succession of the ages.

Each day becomes a life unto itself,

whose daily life has been a rounded whole, is easy in his mind; but those who live for hope alone find that the immediate future always slips from their grasp and that greed steals along in its place, and the fear of death, a curse which lays a curse upon everything else.

...

The point is, not how long you live, but how nobly you live.

Notes and What I learned from "The Present Alone is Our Happiness" - From Socrates to Foucault: A Long Tradition by Pierre Hadot

This is part 8 of a 12 post series reviewing the book "The Present Alone is Our Happiness"

The modern day problem of philosophy is a matter of getting it out of the books and into our way of life.  Hadot quotes Merleau-Ponty:

Philosophy put into books no longer accosts people.  What is unusual and almost unbearable in it has hidden itself in the decent life of the great systems (p. 121).

...

if Socrates was a philosopher, it was by walking with his friends, eating with them, discussing with them, going like them to war, and finally drinking the hemlock, not by teaching from the height of a podium.  Thus he showed that everyday life makes it possible to do philosophy (p. 121).

...

Socrates' greatness was to be able to play with children, and to consider that this was time well spent.  Montaigne admires Socrates' capacity to adapt to all circumstances of life, to war and to peace, to abundance and to famine, to ecstasy and to play ... [this example] gives humble and simple folks the courage to live and to die, without need for all the philosophers' discourses.  Socrates lives a human life fully and simply (p. 122).

... 

When Socrates says, 'We owe a cock to Asclepius' it "suggests that Socrates wants to make a sacrifice of gratitude to the god of medicine, for having cured him of life.  Could it be that life, existence, is an illness? ... is not that life in itself is an illness, but that the life of the body is an illness, and that the only true life is the life of the soul (p. 122-123).

Hadot notes that Montaigne is the one "who best understood the essence of Socrates" (p. 124).

Montaigne "opposed well-made heads to head that are well-filled."  He imagines a person who had done nothing all day long, and he responds, "What, you have done nothing, but have you not lived!  Is that not the most illustrious of your preoccupations!"  Hadot continues, "Nietzsche echoes him in this respect, in his claim that human institutions aim at preventing human beings from sensing their lives.  One finds in this passage from Montaigne the recognition of the infinite value of life itself, of existence; this reverses all habitual values, and especially the pervasive idea that what counts above all is to do something, whereas for Montaigne what is more important is to be" (p. 125).

Regarding clarity, Hadot states, "Sometimes one also has the impression that it is a game for the philosopher, who, as we were saying, always has a natural inclination to listen to himself talk and to watch himself write" (p. 130).

Hadot does not prefer the notion of the existentialists about the notion of the absurdity of life.  He finds it "repulsive" and goes on to say, "As soon as God is dead there is no longer any justification of existence; therefore existence is absurd.  Personally, I do not perceive it absurd.  I prefer Merleau-Ponty's position ... 'The world and reason do not pose a problem; one might say that they are mysterious, but this mystery defines them.  There can be no question of dissipating it by some solution; it falls short of solutions.  Real philosophy is to learn to see the world again."

Hadot continues, "Astonishment, wonder before an inexplicable outpouring: I agree - but why nausea?" (p. 131).

Spiritual exercises are often language games, in which one tells oneself a phrase to provoke an effect, whether on others, or on oneself (p. 135).

...

The Stoics would have rejected this idea of an ethics of pleasure.  They were careful to distinguish pleasure and joy: joy, for them - joy, and not pleasure - was to be found not simply in the self, but in the best part of the self.  Seneca find joy no in Seneca, but in Seneca identified with universal Reason.  One rises from one level of the self to another, transcendent level (p. 136).

...

For me, what counts is above all the effort to pass from one perspective to another (p. 137).

...

It seems to me that seeing things in a universal perspective necessarily lead to recognizing certain permanent values: respect for the human person, respect for life, respect for the gift of language, to mention only a few (p. 139).

Regarding philosophies in other cultures, he says, "Now I have changed my mind somewhat, by observing undeniable analogies between Chinese thought and Greek philosophy.  I have spoken about the attitude of indifference toward things, a sort of Stoic attitude; one might also add the notion of instant illumination.  I explain to myself these analogies, not in terms of historical relations, but by the fact that analogous spiritual attitudes can be found in different cultures" (p. 144).