I find it surprising that so many people equate living simply with living in poverty. They regard deprivation and discomfort as the prerequisites of simplicity. They abhor high ambitions in particular, because they require complex planning.
Seneca (4 BC- 65 AD) contributed to the confusion because his 89th Letter to Lucilius advises readers to prepare for death, meditate daily about their mortality, and stop worrying about the trivialities that fill their days.
It’s easy to preach simplicity to people who spend their days meditating about death, but the rest of us need to solve all kind of problems, plan for the future, and pursue our dreams.
Seneca added to the confusion by condemning the pursuit of wealth, which he regarded as “a slave to the wise, but a master to the fool.” In his eyes, a simple lifestyle motivates us to grow in wisdom, while luxury and comfort have the opposite effect.
I must however regard with suspicion the fact that Seneca judged luxury and comfort incompatible to simplicity. His dire admonitions against wealth are setting the prelude to medieval asceticism.
Seneca compared to Francis of Assisi
Even if Seneca’s call for simplicity was well-meant, I would be reluctant to endorse, for instance, the extreme asceticism of Francis of Assisi (1181-1226). Francis had drawn inspiration from the Gospels to adopt a lifestyle that corresponds hundred per cent to Seneca’s recommendations.
Nevertheless, I have problems to categorize such a lifestyle as simple just because it entails poverty. To grow and harvest wheat seems to me a simpler way to secure food than living in the forest and picking up fruits and berries.
Similarly, to acquire valuable skills and pursue a productive career seems to me a simpler path to happiness than meditating six hours a day, sleeping on the ground, and eating a starvation diet.
Seneca only created confusion by distorting the meaning of wealth. In his 89th Letter to Lucilius, he goes as far as defining wealth as having few desires, instead of having lots of money.
He then calls readers to reject luxuries, live in accordance to nature, exercise self-control. Those ideas from Seneca found a devoted practitioner in Francis of Assisi, who condemned the mere desire for wealth as sinful.
Francis exemplified a lifestyle of chronic undernourishment coupled to a lack of practical skills and absence of planning. In Seneca’s writings, those aspects are formulated as a theoretical, intellectual prescription that lacks connection to reality.
Simplicity is however incompatible with ineffectiveness. It’s dysfunctional, not simple, to spend our days meditating instead of doing productive work.
Neither Seneca nor Francis grasped that most people cannot afford a contemplative life. The ensuing problems would grow larger over time, like weeds do in untended gardens.
Seneca’s call for detachment from problems is beautiful, but will not pay our mortgage and electricity bills. The stories of Francis travelling across Italy without luggage nor money are engaging, but we should think twice before emulating them.
I regard all the above as misinterpretations of Seneca’s idea of a simple lifestyle. Let’s not forget that Seneca lived twenty-one centuries ago. His recipes need interpretation. They should not be adopted literally.
Seneca compared to Lao-Tzu and Taoism
What is the feasible interpretation of Seneca’s advice to lead a simple life? We need to look back in history to find the right interpretation. Lao-Tzu, anticipating Seneca by six centuries, had already come up with a feasible approach to simplicity.
While Seneca was rebelling against wealth and comfort, the doctrines of Lao-Tzu (Taoism) are more measured in this area. They advise us to look for simplicity by living in harmony, by going with the flow of life, not through deprivation.
Seneca and Francis of Assisi called for a crusade against all forms of luxury, but Lao-Tzu would not engage in any crusade. If luxury and comfort are available, why not enjoy them; and if they become unaffordable, let us lead the best life we can. Lao-Tzu did not see any glory in seeking poverty as such.
For different reasons in each case, the concentration on the present became an obsession for Seneca and Francis of Assisi. Seneca because he wanted to meditate about death, and Francis because he wanted to meditate about heaven.
Lao-Tzu also emphasises living in the present, but does not have anything against preparing for the future. Working is fine, and so is learning and planning. Lao-Tzu told us not to worry, but did not tell us to stand still and do nothing the whole day.
Seneca’s admonitions against time-wasting activities remain as incomprehensible today as in his own lifetime. Why did he regard meditation as useful, but the pursue of ambitious goals as wasteful? Why did he glorify inner virtue to the detriment of determined action? How do those contribute to simplicity?
Lao-Tzu did not condemn productive work, but warned us against overexertion, rigidity and obsession. A simple lifestyle goes hand in hand with flexibility, prudence and harmony.
In his definition of a simple, happy life, Lao-Tzu does not require wealth, but does not exclude it either. He provides us a solid perspective for rendering Seneca’s ideas workable in our century.
If you are interested in putting rational ideas into practice in all kind of situations, I recommend you my book “Thriving in difficult times.”