There is often a considerable distance between the sayings and the actions from philosophers. Especially when they use a grandiloquent tone, I prefer to look at their biography and see for myself if they are following their own advice.
Seneca (4 BC-65 AD) was better than most in this respect. I admire in particular his self-discipline in writing, elaborating and discussing difficult questions. Despite his large wealth and influence, he adopted the humble tone of an elderly friend.
His 78th Letter to Lucilius is one the most vivid in terms of examples. Seneca recounts stories that he had witnessed with his own eyes, or that he had learned from trustworthy sources.
I find those stories particularly compelling because they are aligned with Seneca’s philosophical beliefs at the lowest period of his life, that is, when he was exiled in Corsica, an island in the Mediterranean Sea.
Behind each example, we can easily discover a close link to Seneca’s state of mind at that time; when he is giving examples of sickness, loneliness and hardship, he is speaking of himself.
Seneca’s resilience and endurance
We don’t know the exact details of Seneca’s medical issues, but his descriptions show that he was suffering from asthma or some other type of breathing insufficiency. His letters mention as well that he was experiencing pain and feeling weak.
Seneca faces his medical issues courageously. His resolve is so strong that I would categorize it as an early form of positive thinking. His 78th Letter to Lucilius tells us that “the mind must remain strong” despite the body’s frailty, and that illness should be regarded as “a test for the mind.”
Nevertheless, there is a decisive difference between positive thinkers and Seneca. If we take for instance Emile Coue (1857-1926) and his experiments in auto-suggestion, we can see that those aim at making the patient believe in his own healing.
In contrast, Seneca aims at strengthening his own resilience, endurance, and acceptance. He seems to view his own healing as impossible, and a painless existence as attainable.
The 78th Letter to Lucilius contains strong encouragement to withstand physical pain, but weak efforts to solve the medical issue that is actually causing the pain.
Seneca seems to be more interested in spreading his Stoic philosophy than in healing his own body. He exhorts himself to remain emotionally detached from his pain and sickness, but I find his lack of therapeutic interest incomprehensible.
Seneca’s condemnation of Gaius Cilnius Maecenas
Why did Seneca fail to take determined action to improve his own health? His quest for resilience and endurance implies that he had already given up all attempts to recover his health.
Emile Coue viewed any therapeutical effort, however weak, as better than nothing because, at the very least, it can generate the hope of healing. Motivation plays an important role in the process of recovering one’s health, explained Coue.
Seneca advises us to do the opposite because he considered unpromising therapies as a waste of time. It’s morally superior, he argued, to endure pain and sickness stoically. He did not see the need to assuage pain because he regarded it as superior to strengthen one’s mind.
For this reason, Seneca looked down on people like Gaius Cilnius Maecenas (68 BC-8 AD), a wealthy Roman from the previous generation. Seneca condemned the fact that Maecenas was so fearful of the prospect of death that he had spent his last years trying one therapy after another, all to no avail.
Seneca regarded lack of courage as loathsome and improper of a philosophical mind. In any case, he pointed out, Maecenas would have enjoyed a better health if he had renounced luxury and embraced a modest lifestyle.
Seneca’s call for perspective
In his 114th Letter to Lucilius, Seneca recommends looking at problems in perspective. We need to place issues, no matter how severe, in the proper context, so that we do not exaggerate our emotional reactions.
Pythagoras (570-495 BC) had already spoken about placing problems in the right context. Today’s crisis is likely to appear less severe if we compare it with the prospect of death.
Let us not fall into the trap of exaggerating our problems to gain attention and sympathy. Instead of living our days in fear, we should face challenges courageously. Instead of wasting the little energy we have left, we should use it wisely.
Four generations later, the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 BC) would adopt the habit of writing a diary to pass review to his own thoughts and behaviour. His objective was to cultivate his equanimity and resilience.
Although Marcus Aurelius wrote in Greek and primarily for his own self-improvement, his diary was eventually translated into Latin and published as a book titled “Meditations.”
Seneca had adopted a similar practice by writing his Letters to Lucilius. They constitute a philosophical diary as detailed as the “Meditations” that Marcus Aurelius would write at the end of the ensuing century.
Writing a philosophical diary isn’t required for leading a life of virtue, but it can help us think clearly, avoiding exaggerated emotions and counterproductive behaviour.
I cannot however second Seneca’s admiration for Cleanthes (330-230 BC), who is said to have led such a virtuous life that, when death arrived upon him, he welcomed it with a smile. I’m afraid that Cleanthes’ passivity falls short of Aristotle’s call for determined, constant action in the pursuit of happiness.
Aristotle (384-322 BC) would not have approved Seneca’s example of the happy ox, which accepts death calmly without any regret or complaint. Using the ox as philosophical example is blatantly inappropriate because it overlooks the element that renders humans unique, namely, our capacity to think.
If you are interested in putting rational ideas into practice in all situations, I recommend you my book titled “Sequentiality: The amazing power of finding the right sequence of steps.”