Book 3, Letter 18, part 3 of 3 To Tacitus, on Suicide

I don't want to make hard conclusions, however, I have two stories. The first is a rumour really, and it does not add to my happiness, but I will tell it anyway since it goes towards answering my question about modern popular suicide methods.. The local city train station currently has a high turnover of staff among their drivers. This is due, so the story goes, because one person a week is committing suicide by stepping onto the tracks in front of a moving train. This rumour comes via friends working in the mental health sector as therapists. These therapists are perhaps fighting on the front lines of our culture's darkest impulses, and have a unique, if somewhat bleak perspective.

The second story is more ambiguous, from the Japanese Zen tradition. A monk who, for decades had diligently performed all the rituals and meditations as instructed by his masters, finally became worn down by his inability to have a single moment of enlightenment. Considering himself a failure, he went to his master and announced his intention to commit suicide. The master did not try to dissuade him, but merely accompanied him to the high wall of the monastery, overlooking a a cliff. The student, knowing that now was the moment he must choose between enlightenment or death, put his foot upon the stone wall, ready to throw himself over.

In that moment, his mind cleared, and enlightenment burst from within him.

Enlightenment or death.

He made his choice.

*

So with the rumours, stories and philosophical discussions aside, I will share a few of the facts, derived from a variety of sources. I here quote directly from the web-pages I read, mostly government statistical studies.

In every state and territory of Australia, suicide is much more common among males than females, with the ratio standing at 3:1 in 2012.

According to hospital data, females are more likely to deliberately injure themselves than males. In the 2008–2009 financial year, 62% of those who were hospitalised due to self-harm were female.

Researchers have attributed the difference between attempted and completed suicides among the sexes to males using more lethal means to end their lives.

Suicide rates for both males and females have generally decreased since the mid-90s with the overall suicide rate decreasing by 23% between 1999 and 2009. Suicide rates for males peaked in 1997 at 23.6 per 100,000 but have steadily decreased since then and stood at 14.9 per 100,000 in 2009.

Female rates reached a high of 6.2 per 100 000 in 1997. Rates declined after that and was 4.5 per 100 000 in 2009. Comparing sex differences in suicide rates need to consider differences across the lifespan. Since 2003, for females, suicide rates range from 4 – 6 suicides per 100 000 with no apparent age association, whilst for men suicide rates range from 10 – 30 suicides per 100 000 with substantive differences across the lifespan; those males in middle and older age report substantially increased rates of suicide.

Methods of Suicide

In 2003 the most common method of suicide was hanging, which was used in almost half (45%) of all suicide deaths. The next most used methods were poisoning by 'other' (including motor vehicle exhaust) (19%), Other (15%), poisoning by drugs (13%), and methods using firearms (9%). This distribution was consistent with that of the previous few years. However, over the decade strong trends were apparent such as the increase in the use of hanging, and a decrease in methods using firearms. 

In 2016, suicide was the leading cause of death among all people 15-44 years of age

In 2016, suicide accounted for over one-third of deaths (35%) among people 15-24 years of age, and over a quarter of deaths (28%) among those 25-34 years of age.

According to the ABS, for those people 35-44 years of age, 16% of deaths were due to intentional self-harm.

Intentional self-harm top 10 multiple causes, proportion of total suicides , by age group, 2017

Cause of death and ICD code	5-24 years	25-44 years	45-64 years	65-84 years	85 years +	All ages
Mood disorders (F30-F39)	34.3	43.0	49.0	40.3	26.0	43.0
Mental and behavioural disorders due to psychoactive substance use (F10-F19)	25.9	41.6	26.7	10.1	2.6	29.5
Other symptoms and signs involving emotional state (R458) (c)	20.6	16.9	19.5	16.4	11.7	18.1
Anxiety and stress-related disorders (F40-49)	15.2	19.7	17.9	13.6	9.1	17.5
Findings of alcohol, drugs and other substances in blood (R78)	18.5	17.0	13.7	9.6	7.8	14.9
Schizophrenia, schizotypal and delusional disorders (F20-F29)	3.5	7.9	5.2	2.3	—	5.5
Unspecified mental disorder (F99)	7.2	5.0	4.3	1.8	—	4.5
Malignant neoplasms (C00-C97, D45-D46, D47.1, D47.3-D47.5)	0.5	0.9	1.9	16.1	24.7	3.7
Diseases of the musculoskeletal system (M00-M99)	0.2	1.7	3.3	11.1	15.6	3.6
Personality disorders (F60-F69)	5.4	5.0	2.0	1.3	—	3.5
Chronic pain (R522)	0.5	1.3	3.7	5.3	5.2	2.6
Ischaemic heart diseases (I20-I25)	0.2	0.7	1.8	7.8	16.9	2.3
Chronic lower respiratory diseases (J40-J47)	0.2	0.5	2.0	6.0	9.1	1.9
Diabetes (E10-E14)	0.5	0.6	2.0	5.0	9.1	1.8
Heart failure (I50-I51)	0.2	0.2	1.0	5.0	7.8	1.2
Behavioural disorders usually occurring in childhood and adolescence (F90-F98)	3.7	1.1	0.6	—	—	1.1
Disorders of psychological development (F80-F89)	2.1	0.5	0.1	—	—	0.5

Indigenous Suicide Rates

Indigenous suicide rates are between two and four times those of non-Indigenous Australians in the 15 and 44 age groups

For those of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander descent in NSW, QLD, SA, WA and NT there were 162 deaths due to suicide (119 male, 43 female), which was the fifth most common cause of death.

While suicide is a big problem across our entire society, for Australia’s Aboriginal peoples, it’s at epidemic proportions.

As the esteemed suicide prevention researcher Gerry Georgatos recently wrote in The Guardian Australia the figures below may not even represent the full extent of the issue.

“Suicide accounts for more than 5% of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander deaths… In fact in my estimations, because of under-reporting issues, suicide accounts for 10% of indigenous deaths.”

*

Discerning the reasons behind suicides is more difficult, but the sources suggest that long term unemployment among men, particularly in rural areas, is the greatest contributor. There is a feeling of chronic uselessness that, year after year builds up inside a man and dries up his sense of personal honour and respect. Of course, every suicide is unique, and individual personal reasons will involve many different factors.

So, Tacitus, while the high-profile suicides of ancient history make for fascinating reading, the modern daily facts make for grim study. We aren't killing ourselves because tyrants threaten us with torture and execution, but rather, every day existence and the struggle to make ends meet is torture enough.

I have said enough of the reasons for choosing to die, so I shall end my letter with a quote from Cicero, who, in his piece entitled Scipio's Dream, tells us that it is our duty to remain alive. In a conversation with the spirit of Scipio Africanus, the following advice is given to the younger, still living Scipio.

Unless that God whose temple is around you everywhere shall have liberated you from the chains of the body, you cannot come to us. Men are begotten subject to this law... Wherefore, my son, by you and by all just men that soul must be retained within its body's confines, nor can it be allowed to flit without command of him by whom it has been given to you. You may not escape the duty which God has entrusted to you.... It is your duty to your parents and to your relatives, but especially to you country. There lies the road to heaven.

So, right or wrong, suicide is happening every day. Whether we talk about it or not, it is happening. We are affected by it, our whole society is influenced by our attitudes towards suicide, and by the stories we tell ourselves about what it means. That is my purpose in writing this letter, to allow of an open discussion on a difficult topic. We Australians are killing ourselves in private, and in shame, loneliness and desperation, and keeping the truth of this epidemic hidden away, or only silently acknowledged, will not help anyone.

Thank you Tacitus, even when the lessons are hard, I am proud to know you, and grateful to have you as a teacher.

Morgan.

PS. As I finish writing this letter to you I have found more writing from both Cicero and Epictetus on the subject of suicide and suffering. I sense that I will write more on this subject in the future.  However, I will part with this quote from Albert Camus...

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest — whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories — comes afterwards. These are games; one must first answer. And if it is true, as Nietzsche claims, that a philosopher, to deserve our respect, must preach by example, you can appreciate the importance of that reply, for it will precede the definitive act. These are facts the heart can feel; yet they call for careful study before they become clear to the intellect.

Book 3, Letter 18, part 2 of 3 To Tacitus, on Suicide

             The suicide of Seneca - by Manuel Dominguez Sanchez

Here in Australia, there isn't actually a law prohibiting the reporting of suicides, but there is an accepted convention of censorship in the main news outlets. By scratching the surface and looking at the available statistics, it seems that suicide deaths account for three times the number of deaths by murder. According to rumour, the highest rates of suicide are among returned soldiers, dentists, vets and farmers, with men committing suicide 3 to 1, when compared with women.

In my culture there is no pride to be found in stories of suicide, only silence and shame. There is so much shame and repression of suicidal thinking and discussion, that even dying is shrouded in a mysterious fog, and requesting assistance in choosing to die, even when one is old and suffering from the agonies of illness, is a criminal act. Euthanasia, from the Greek Eu meaning 'well', and Thanatos, meaning 'death', thus means choosing to die a good death.

However, on Tuesday 10 December 2019 the Western Australian Voluntary Assisted Dying Bill 2019 cleared its final parliamentary hurdle making Western Australia the second state after Victoria to legalise voluntary assisted dying for the terminally ill. To me this seems like progress, however in the other states of Australia, here is how things generally stand.

What is legal in Australia now?

Both suicide and attempted suicide.
Refusing unwanted, painful and futile medical treatment leading to death from the illness.
Refusing food and drink leading to death from starvation and dehydration.
Being administered large doses of pain-relieving drugs, even though this may hasten death.  This is not against the law if the primary intention of the doctor is to relieve pain.
Being put into a permanent state of unconsciousness leading to death – this is often called ‘continuous palliative sedation’.

What is illegal in Australia now?

Voluntary assisted dying.
Voluntary euthanasia.

I have heard numerous stories of nurses choosing to follow their first vow, to do no harm, and who administer lethal doses of morphine to patients whose lives have passed the threshold of tolerable pain. I have heard it said that nurses do this more often than they could ever admit, that they place their gentle hands upon their patients, and with a kind whisper, help them onto a better kind of rest. A kind of rest that is better than a drug induced coma, better than a prolonged state of agonised zombification. It makes me proud to know that nurses are willing to do what is right, rather than to follow the letter of the law. I have heard stories of the the families, standing in the room and granting their whispered permission to ease the pain of their dying kin. It seems a blurry line between continuous palliative sedation and Voluntary assisted dying.

In reading your book Tacitus, and finding myself shocked at the culture of suicide you describe, I wonder what the popular methods of my own country are. How do people choose to end their own lives, here in the 21^st Century in Australia? So, to follow your method of writing, I will start with the rumours, and end with the facts, as much as can be gleaned from government statistics.

I have heard that single occupancy, single car crashes are often considered suicides by the police, even though they are reported as accidents. Charles Bukowski, the 20^th Century American poet once wrote that smoking and drinking are the only forms of honourable suicide left to modern man. With open reporting on the subject quietly suppressed in the media, it is hard to know what the truth is. I have three friends who ended their own lives. One chose to end her own life because the pain in her body became greater than her will to live. Another, it is uncertain, as they left no note, died of a Nitrous Oxide overdose. They were going through the long and difficult process of gender reassignment. The third took his life by the method described by Bukowski.

We humans are peculiar, born with the defect in our natures that grants us the will to self destruction that seems absent in other animals.

Is it a defect? Or is it a proud strength, that when faced with impossible options we humans may summon the courage to end our own suffering? Cato, the legendary stoic who committed suicide rather than live under the rule of Julius Caesar, is to history a hero for his act of self deliverance. Anthony Trollope, in his biography of Cicero, (published in 1880) puts it rather well.

...Cato must be allowed the praise of acting up to his own principles. He would die rather than behold the face of a tyrant... Men, indeed, have refused to see that he fled from a danger which he felt to be too much for him, and that in doing so he lacked something of the courage of a man. Many other Romans of the time did the same thing, but to none has been given all the honour which has been allowed to Cato.

Alternatively, Plutarch describes the suicide of the Spartan lawgiver, Lycurgus, as one of happiness and noble self sacrifice in service to the commonwealth. Having set down his laws and ordered the society of Sparta in the way he saw best, Lycurgus travelled to the Oracle to ask if his laws were good. He ordered his people to not make any changes to his laws until he should return.

The oracle answered that the laws were excellent, and that the people, while it observed them, should live in the height of renown. Lycurgus took the oracle in writing, and sent it over to Sparta; and, having sacrificed the second time to Apollo, and taken leave of his friends and his son, he resolved that the Spartans should not be released from the oath they had taken, and that he would, of his own act, close his life where he was. He was now about that age in which life was still tolerable, and yet might be quitted without regret. Every thing, moreover, about him was in a sufficiently prosperous condition. He, therefore, made an end of himself by a total abstinence from food; thinking it a statesman’s duty to make his very death, if possible, an act of service to the state, and even in the end of his life to give some example of virtue and effect some useful purpose. He would, on the one hand, crown and consummate his own happiness by a death suitable to so honorable a life, and, on the other, would secure to his countrymen the enjoyment of the advantages he had spent his life in obtaining for them, since they had solemnly sworn the maintenance of his institutions until his return.

Is a chosen death, a happy death?

Book 3, Letter 18, part 1 of 3 To Tacitus, on Suicide

(Dear readers: this three part letter contains some vivid descriptions of suicides, as well as detailed modern statistics on Australian suicide rates. If this is not to your taste, you might prefer to come back to my blog in a month to read my letter to Henry David Thoreau, author of Walden. It is a much more beautiful letter, on walking in the wilderness.)

*

Dear Tacitus,

It's been a long time since I wrote to you. Your Annals are such a mammoth collection of stories and opinions and facts and myths and all the other ingredients that go into written history, that it has taken me the better part of a year to carefully sift through it all and, taking notes as I go, to begin preparations for a new letter to you.

I should open by saying that the modern opinion of your accuracy as a historian is rather critical; you are accused of unfair bias, and of straight up lies regarding Nero, and while I am not a historian, and thus not qualified to pass a judgement separate from that of the scholars, I am a storyteller, and it is in this regard that I assess, and enjoy your work. There is still a lot of verifiable truth in your writing, but I must confess that it is your personal reflections on the subject matter that I find myself most interested in, rather than the hard facts of history. I love the way you tell the story, the way you sequence events in order to illustrate the point you are trying to make about the terrible corruption, the loss of dignity of the senators and the steady decline in trust between everyone connected to Nero as accusations fly around and everyone commits suicide rather than face punishment from the Emperor, for crimes they did, or did not commit.

You, Tacitus, describe a high society culture of suicide that is as shocking to read now as it seems it was for you to have to write.

Bk XVI, section 16

Even had I been narrating campaigns abroad and lives laid down for the commonwealth, and narrating them with the same uniformity of incident, I should myself have lost appetite for the task, and I should expect the tedium of others, repelled by the tale of Roman deaths, honourable perhaps, but tragic and continuous. As it is, this slave-like patience and the profusion of blood wasted at home weary the mind and oppress it with melancholy. The one concession I would ask from those who shall study these records is that they would permit me not to hate the men who died with so little spirit. It was the anger of Heaven against the Roman realm — an anger which you cannot, as in the case of beaten armies or captured towns, mention once and for all and proceed upon your way. Let us make this concession to the memory of the nobly born: that, as in the last rites they are distinguished from the vulgar dead, so, when history records their end, each shall receive and keep his special mention.

Page after page you describe the many men and women, who, in order to avoid the tortures and execution squads sent by Nero, simply killed themselves, and sometimes their whole families.

Book XV Sect. 69 & 70

On that day he (Vestinius) had performed all his duties as consul, and was entertaining some guests, fearless of danger, or perhaps by way of hiding his fears, when the soldiers entered and announced to him the tribune's summons. He rose without a moment's delay, and every preparation was at once made. He shut himself into his chamber; a physician was at his side; his veins were opened; with life still strong in him, he was carried into a bath, and plunged into warm water, without uttering a word of pity for himself. Meanwhile the guards surrounded those who had sat at his table, and it was only at a late hour of the night that they were dismissed, when Nero, having pictured to himself and laughed over their terror at the expectation of a fatal end to their banquet, said that they had suffered enough punishment for the consul's entertainment.

Next he ordered the destruction of Marcus Annaeus Lucanus. As the blood flowed freely from him, and he felt a chill creeping through his feet and hands, and the life gradually ebbing from his extremities, though the heart was still warm and he retained his mental power, Lucanus recalled some poetry he had composed in which he had told the story of a wounded soldier dying a similar kind of death, and he recited the very lines. These were his last words. After him, Senecio, Quintianus, and Scaevinus perished, not in the manner expected from the past effeminacy of their life, and then the remaining conspirators, without deed or word deserving record.

Book XV Sect 62 & 63 Seneca's death.

A centurion came to Seneca's home to announce the death sentence pronounced upon him as punishment for his alleged involvement in a conspiracy to murder Nero:

Seneca, quite unmoved, asked for tablets on which to inscribe his will, and, on the centurion's refusal, turned to his friends, protesting that as he was forbidden to requite them, he bequeathed to them the only, but still the noblest possession yet remaining to him, the pattern of his life, which, if they remembered, they would win a name for moral worth and steadfast friendship. At the same time he called them back from their tears to manly resolution, now with friendly talk, and now with the sterner language of rebuke. "Where," he asked again and again, "are your maxims of philosophy, or the preparation of so many years' study against evils to come? Who knew not Nero's cruelty? After a mother's and a brother's murder, nothing remains but to add the destruction of a guardian and a tutor."

Having spoken these and like words, meant, so to say, for all, he embraced his wife; then softening awhile from the stern resolution of the hour, he begged and implored her to spare herself the burden of perpetual sorrow, and, in the contemplation of a life virtuously spent, to endure a husband's loss with honourable consolations. She declared, in answer, that she too had decided to die, and claimed for herself the blow of the executioner. There upon Seneca, not to thwart her noble ambition, from an affection too which would not leave behind him for insult one whom he dearly loved, replied: "I have shown you ways of smoothing life; you prefer the glory of dying. I will not grudge you such a noble example. Let the fortitude of so courageous an end be alike in both of us, but let there be more in your decease to win fame." Then by one and the same stroke they sundered with a dagger the arteries of their arms. Seneca, as his aged frame, attenuated by frugal diet, allowed the blood to escape but slowly, severed also the veins of his legs and knees. Worn out by cruel anguish, afraid too that his sufferings might break his wife's spirit, and that, as he looked on her tortures, he might himself sink into irresolution, he persuaded her to retire into another chamber. Even at the last moment his eloquence failed him not; he summoned his secretaries, and dictated much to them which, as it has been published for all readers in his own words, I forbear to paraphrase.

Book XVI Sect. 17

Mela meanwhile, adopting the easiest mode of death then in fashion, opened his veins, after adding a codicil to his will bequeathing an immense amount to Tigellinus and his son-in-law, Cossutianus Capito, in order to save the remainder. In this codicil he is also said to have written, by way of remonstrance against the injustice of his death, that he died without any cause for punishment, while Rufius Crispinus and Anicius Cerialis still enjoyed life, though bitter foes to the prince.

So, with all these horror stories, which are terrible to relate, and with the strange sense of nobility and pride expressed in the act of suicide itself (as an alternative to being tortured and murdered), I turn my mind to my own society, and to the peculiar attitudes we have towards suicide and death.

Book 3, Letter 17, part 2 of 2 To Seneca, on wisdom, and desire

Having only recently acquired the three books of your epistles, I am just now discovering the large collection of your other books that still exists in my day. I find in your Naturales Quaestiones a reference to your exile, and of life under Caligula.

17. At the court of Gaius (Caligula) I used to see torture, I used to see fire. I knew that under him human existence had already deteriorated to the point where those who were killed were held up as examples of mercy.

I will have to read more of this book, for there is much to discuss. I bring it up here only by way of introducing an idea for discussion. I find your philosophy to be so peaceful, so beautiful and forgiving, yet you lived in a world of terror and madness in the Imperial court. Epictetus too, whose life was anything but easy, seems to float above it all with magnanimous nobility of spirit. You see, it is not just your writing that inspires, it is the nature of the life in which it was written that seems to give it greater weight. I find the same thing among some of Yamamoto Tsunetomo's writing, and of course, of Marcus Aurelius.

I found this in the introduction to Naturales Quaestiones, I need to share this section with you, from the Harry M Hine translation of 2010:

Seneca’s practice exemplifies his conviction that progress can best be made by critical dialogue with the thinkers of the past. He has a clear vision of meteorology as a collaborative effort by numerous investigators over many centuries, a process that will continue far into the future. Progress depends on the patient collection of information about the phenomena in question and on critical probing of the theories of one’s predecessors. He warns against dismissing the theories of the earliest thinkers as crude or silly, because they took the essential first steps, and later thinkers were building on their efforts (6.5.2–3). And just as their ideas seemed antiquated by Seneca’s day, so Seneca is sure that his ideas will seem just as antiquated to people far in the future (7.25.4–7; 7.30.5).12 Here is an implicit signal to us later readers to be as critical of his ideas as he is of the ideas of his predecessors.

I have been reading Plato, and have discovered a deep affection for the Socratic method. Starting from a position of assumed ignorance, and through questioning everything one might come to know something like the truth. It has been a major motivation behind my entire letter writing project to engage with the minds of the ancients and through a process of discussion and questioning, come to find the truth in my own life. It is not within the scope of my present life to attend university lectures and to surround myself with philosophers with whom I might have these discussions. I do what I can within the circle of friends and family that I have, and I find that I do not feel alone in my quest for wisdom.

Which brings me back around to the original topic of this letter.

There is a flexible contradiction to be found in your books which I enjoy. It is plain from your writing that you have devoted your life to reading many authors, studying everything you can and immersing yourself in a diverse range of contrasting philosophical schools. Yet here in letter II, in your epistles I find this:

The primary indication, to my thinking, of a well ordered mind is a man's ability to remain in one place and linger in his own company. Be careful, however, lest this reading of many authors and books of every sort may tend to make you discursive and unsteady. You must linger among a limited number of master thinkers, and digest their works if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. Everywhere means nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends.

It is good advice, yet it seems that neither you nor I follow it truly. The stack of books on my bedside table at the present moment come from eleven different authors, across many eras. The bookshelf next to my bed contains all the books from Cicero that I own, plus Plutarch and Herodotus. They all seem like good friends to keep close, and regardless of which book sits atop the pile, having them near gives me the comfort of their wisdom.

Yet, Epictetus reminds me that there is another source of wisdom:

(Bk 1, Ch. 14, George Long translation, 1952)

When, then, you have shut the doors and made darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not; but God is within, and your Demon is within, and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To this God you ought to swear an oath just as the soldiers do to Caesar.

This nameless God, this nameless Demon that lives within us, and is the source of our wisdom and our torment, is perhaps the most important of all the master thinkers. Inside me is a circle of voices who vie for attention and who speak at times loudly, and at others in whispers like the wind. They have many names, and many faces. Perhaps you might enjoy reading my exploration of this room of mirrors...

http://indivisiblefrommagic.blogspot.com/2017/09/indivisble-from-magic-2017.html

A discussion for another day, my dear friend Seneca.

With Gratitude and Respect

Morgan.

Book 3, Letter 17, part 1 of 2 To Seneca, on wisdom and desire

Dear Seneca,

I've been going back over the first hundred or so pages of your Epistles, looking for a quote that I've had stuck in my head for week....yet, I can't find it...I wonder now if I didn't read it somewhere else. No matter, I'll share it with you and maybe later I can confirm the author...yet, you have said that the words of great poets and philosophers belong to us all....

When you loose something, do not say, it has been taken from me, rather, say that you have given it back. Has your sight been taken from you? Nay, I have given it back to the source. Has your child died? Nay, I have given her back. For all that we have is a gift, and all of it must one day be given back.

So, I'm quoting from memory, but that's the gist of it.

Seneca, you're having such an impact on me. I carry your book with me everywhere, I sit in cafe's reading, I sit in taverns making notes, I sit in bed holding up my heavy eyes to read just a little more.

My hunger for wisdom grows with every meal.

And so it was that I came upon this....you are quoting as you so often do, from Epicurus. (I love that you quote from Epicurus so much. It is a reminder that if an idea is good, it is good, regardless of it's philosophical source.)

If you wish to make Pythoclese rich, do not add to his store of money, but subtract from his desires.

I ask myself, am I being greedy for wisdom? Am I over-reaching? Every day I read the ancient authors, searching for the secrets that will bring me happiness, or help me solve the problems of my daily life. I read history, poetry, drama, tragedy and comedy and as much as I am fed by them and feel their continuous influence upon my life....I can say guiltily, that it is never enough.

I am greedy for wisdom. I want the answers to my problems, I want the solutions, I want to be a better writer, a better thinker, a better husband, father, friend, musician, artist...I am greedy for dignitas. There is no limit to the extent of my desires it seems.

I think, Seneca, that you understand.

Epistle VIII : On the philosopher's seclusion

I never spend a day in idleness; I appropriate even a part of the night for study. I do not allow time for sleep, but yield to it when I must, and when my eyes are wearied with waking and ready to fall shut, I keep them at their task. I have withdrawn not only from men, but from affairs, especially from my own affairs; I am working for later generations, writing down some ideas that may be of assistance to them. There are certain wholesome counsels, which may be compared to prescriptions of useful drugs; these I am putting into writing; for I have found them helpful in ministering to my own sores, which if not wholly cured, have at any rate ceased to spread.

In reading this epistle to your friend Lucilius, I find that I might quote all of it as you warn against being lured into danger by the gifts of fortune, and as you praise the middle path of simple living and simple desires.

Eat merely to relieve your hunger, drink merely to quench your thirst; dress merely to keep out the cold; house yourself merely as a protection against personal discomfort.

Despise everything that useless toil creates as an ornament and an object of beauty. And reflect that nothing except the soul is worthy of wonder; for to the soul, if it be great, naught is great.

...actually Seneca, I disagree with that last bit. I think that if the soul be great, then all is great. The greatness of a soul is in the measure with which it may contain all the world in acceptance, compassion, wisdom and wonder. I don't side with the Stoic precept, Nil Admirandum. I say instead, find wonder in everything.

But it is in the space between these contradictions that life exists. Between desire and contentment, between striving and humility. They aren't polarities to be reached, but weights to keep in balance. There are no definitions or borders separating each part, like the left hand and right hand are both part of the same body.

The day is still young, and this morning the birds cluster in their floating orchestras along the creek, singing their morning hymns in the canopy of green and shimmering leaves. Rain is on its way. Yesterday the hot wind blew red dust from the north, apocalyptic and wearying, but today there is a still before the storm. The air is warm and wet, the flowers open themselves to the sunlight and the grass grows greenest in the valleys. (I wrote this letter during Spring, now in Summer the whole country is on fire, it is quite stressful, waiting for the evacuation warning.)

If you would enjoy real freedom, you must be the slave of philosophy.

Then, Seneca, call me slave, call me a lover, call me a devotee, a mad priest, a wandering mendicant with my begging bowl held out, walking the middle path, my crooked middle path.

Or, as the Buddha says. Everything in moderation, including moderation.