Tag: Seneca

  • Time Will Have His Fancy

    ‘The years shall run like rabbits,
    For in my arms I hold
    The Flower of the Ages,
    And the first love of the world.’
    But all the clocks in the city
    Began to whirr and chime:
    ‘O let not Time deceive you,
    You cannot conquer Time.
    ‘In the burrows of the Nightmare
    Where Justice naked is,
    Time watches from the shadow
    And coughs when you would kiss.
    ‘In headaches and in worry
    Vaguely life leaks away,
    And Time will have his fancy
    To-morrow or to-day.
    — W.H. Auden, As I Walked Out One Evening

    January seems to be the time for planning out the year in neat blocks of time, priorities and action steps. It’s fairly easy work to define what must be done, it’s harder to actually do it. The execution of a plan is always the trick, isn’t it? Yet broken down into small enough steps, we somehow find the task more manageable. It seems there’s always enough time for the things that matter most, should we build our lives around our priorities. But time has other plans for us, should we lose our way.

    Lately in my work I talk a lot of urgency. We ought to feel it in our bones, and do something about it now. It’s cliché for a reason, for it matters a great deal in said execution of plan. It’s a call to arms, really—a reminder that time flies and the wishes of today are the regrets of tomorrow. We must therefore seize what flees, as our old friend Seneca reminded us.

    Later in Auden’s magical poem, he writes of wondering what we’ve missed. Wrestling with the eternal, we realize that we are not. We are but a moment’s sunlight, fading in the grass, as Chet Powers wrote and The Youngbloods made famous. It’s an unfair practice to dwell on that which has slipped from our grasp if we use the tally to embrace a helpless state of low agency, but when we use these moments to learn to be bolder in our choices now they may be just the catalyst we need. Feel the urgency yet? Carpe diem, friend. Tempus fugit.

    All this is nothing but a stack of words until we do something with our time. Be bold. Be audacious. Decide what to be and go be it. Today will slip away just as all the rest have. Yet we may still do something with the hour at hand.

  • Break Up the Habitual

    “We need habit to get through a day, to get to work, to feed our children. But habit is dangerous too. The act of seeing can quickly become unconscious and automatic. The eyes see something—gray-brown bark, say, fissured into broad, vertical plates—and the brain spits out tree trunk and the eye moves on. But did I really take the time to see the tree? I glimpse hazel hair, high cheekbones, a field of freckles and I think Shawna. But did I take the time to see my wife?
    ... The easier an experience, or the more entrenched, or the more familiar, the fainter our sensation of it becomes. This is true of chocolate and marriages and hometowns and narrative structures. Complexities wane, miracles become unremarkable, and if we’re not careful, pretty soon we’re gazing out at our lives as if through a burlap sack.
    … I open my journal and stare out at the trunk of the umbrella pine and do my best to fight off the atrophy that comes from seeing things too frequently. I try to shape a few sentences around this tiny corner of Rome; I try to force my eye to slow down. A good journal entry—like a good song, or sketch, or photograph—ought to break up the habitual and lift away the film that forms over the eye, the finger, the tongue, the heart. A good journal entry ought to be a love letter to the world.
    Leave home, leave the country, leave the familiar. Only then can routine experience—buying bread, eating vegetables, even saying hello—become new all over again.”

    — Anthony Doerr, Four Seasons in Rome

    A long quote, but honestly I could plug the entire chapter of this delightful book in here and call it a day. This is a song I know well. We are creatures of habit, and a good habit will save us as much as a bad habit may be our ruin, but this often puts us on autopilot with our senses. There’s a fine line between being fully aware and being overwhelmed. A bit of focus on the task at hand is just as essential as being aware of everything around us. Situation awareness can quite literally save the day for us, but awareness of every situation can make us completely useless.

    Still, so many of us miss the details for the routine. How much of a drive do we ever remember? What of the miracle of commercial flight? Most people simply resign themselves to the screen in front of them for the duration, never glancing out the window at the world of wonder just outside. What of home? Do we ever immerse ourselves in something we once gazed at lovingly, like that picture we once cherished and now barely see? How many marriages end in just such a way?

    We know the Latin phrase: “tempus fugit carpe diem” (time flies so seize the day). Seizing isn’t just an action statement to go out and do bold things, though surely that’s a big part of it. It also means being fully aware of the world around us while we’re living this day. Well before the Romans began creating such memorable phrases, that old Greek sage Seneca had his own take on this, saying “As each day arises, welcome it as the very best day of all, and make it your own possession. We must seize what flees.” Indeed we must.

    Doerr seized his day moving to Rome for a year, grabbing the opportunity of a lifetime just as he and his wife were navigating the challenge of raising newborn twins. That’s quite a one-two punch to anyone’s routine. His call to leave the familiar comes from his own experience in doing just so. But even under such extreme change in his and his wife’s lifestyle, he found routine he had to break through to find full awareness. What of us?

    “Rise free from care before the dawn, and seek adventures.” – Henry David Thoreau

    At a party of the weekend I was introduced to someone as “a blogger” and was asked what I write about. I write about everything, I explained, but didn’t go much deeper out of… habit. We rise to meet our moments or we simply go through them. Writing is a form of heightened awareness of the moment. So is photography, for that matter. I tend to be the unofficial photographer at family events and during travel because I see opportunities either to capture or create the moment. In the end, moments are all we have.

    This blog is a call to arms for myself as much as it is a collection of observations and thoughts. Tempus fugit, sir, so carpe diem. Pay attention to the moment, friend, but do note the days gone by on this journey too. We waste so much of it, don’t we? We must be aware, and be productive with our days while we have them. Make each day new all over again.

  • Do What You Need to Do

    See the moon roll across the stars
    See the seasons turn like a heart
    Your father’s days are lost to you
    This is your time here to do what you will do
    Your life is now, your life is now, your life is now
    In this undiscovered moment
    Lift your head up above the crowd
    We could shake this world
    If you would only show us how
    Your life is now
    — John Mellencamp, Your Life Is Now

    I’m currently read a book set in Provence, and it’s having the expected effect of making me crave a trip there. YouTube videos of the place don’t help, as they only affirm just how beautiful it is there. I’ve had similar dalliances with beautiful places around the world. The world is out there, awaiting the adventurous and the bold. The rest may only dream.

    I do snap out of these moments and reset myself to the now. “Your father’s days are lost to you”, as Mellencamp sang; “This is your time to do what you will do”. It’s October in New Hampshire, with peak foliage and crisp air reminding us that we too live in a beautiful place. It’s high time to be present right here. We are human and sometimes want what we don’t have in our lives. We must consistently remind ourselves to skate our own lane.

    “Death may be close at hand; death may be far off. Transcend death with no-thought, no-idea. Do what you need to do, with no regret.” — Awa Kenzo, Zen Bow, Zen Arrow

    It’s easy to say we ought to transcend and do what we need to do, it’s harder to do it in a world that demands attention. I interrupted my writing flow state on this very blog to correct some puppy behavior and give the dog something else to chew on. Does this mean I’m not fully present in my work, or that I’m fully aware of the larger world around me? Puppies are great reminders that we aren’t fully in control of anything, but we can still fit our own work in. A mountain stream is constantly interrupted by obstacles in its flow, yet it still finds its way to the sea.

    The thing is, none of us is here forever, and all of us are faced with the will of the larger world around us. We may yet shake this world nonetheless if we dream big and persist with our purpose. But we must also remind ourselves to look up from it now and again and see just how beautiful this life actually is. If a puppy or autumn foliage or the mirror remind us of anything, it’s that now will soon be then. As Seneca once said, we must seize what flees: Feel the urgency to do what we need to do, and to do it with no regret.

  • The Very Best Day of All

    “Let us therefore set out whole-heartedly, leaving aside our many distractions and exert ourselves in this single purpose, before we realize too late the swift and unstoppable flight of time and are left behind. As each day arises, welcome it as the very best day of all, and make it your own possession. We must seize what flees.” — Seneca, Moral Letters to Lucilius

    It must be Spring, for I return again to Seneca’s urgent call: “Seize what flees”. And so it is our quest to live this day as if it were our very last. To meet this, our moment at hand, and do something with it.

    That’s a heavy ask. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves to perform with statements like that. We all want to seize the day, but what if we’ve got bills to pay and a car that doesn’t drive itself to work quite yet? Who’s going to clean the dishes while we’re off seizing the day?

    Seneca had his own daily obligations and understood the recklessness of grabbing the moment. Does it carry more weight when you think of him as mere dust mixed in the timeless sands of Rome? He knew the stakes, but also knew we all have things to do. Just don’t make it your life’s purpose to fulfill the dreams of others. Make a stand for your own dreams today too.

    Welcome today as the very best day of all. It’s all we have, really. What would make it particularly remarkable given the chorus of requests for our time? Let’s carve out a little of our brief time to seize that. Deal?

  • To Be a Philosopher

    “You must be one man, either good or bad. You must cultivate either your own ruling faculty or externals, and apply yourself either to things within or without you; that is, be either a philosopher, or one of the vulgar.” — Epictetus, The Enchiridion

    Do you ever wonder why the Stoics are more popular than ever? Why would Epictetus, who died in 135 A.D. be relevant today? Why would Marcus Aurelius, who died in 180 A.D. be so revered? Or Seneca, who died in 65 A.D.? I believe it comes down to a few key reasons: First and foremost, they wrote from a very human perspective that is still relatable no matter what millennium you’re passing your time in. Second; if it weren’t relevant it would have long ago been vanquished to the trash heap like the lesser work of millions before and after them. And finally, you might also say they gain a lot of momentum as the great men and women who followed them referred to them for wisdom and inspiration. And if it worked for them, why not us?

    On our journey from the vulgar, callow juvenile inside each of us to the refined, philosophical sage we may wish to become, we learn to cultivate discipline. Discipline draws us deeper into our true selves, structures our lives in such a way that we might accomplish a few things and bring us closer to becoming who we want to be. To stop looking from one shiny object to the next and focus on what means the most, now, and when we reach that stepping stone find the next.

    Will our own work become timeless, or vanquished with the lesser work of millions? We’re dealt an unfair hand trying to measure up with the greatest thinkers of the past. That’s not stoicism, that’s upward comparison. Comparing yourself to others leads to unfocused misery. It’s better to compare yourself with the person you used to be instead. Stoicism is a quest to become the best person you can be in your short time on earth. Ultimately everything we do shows the way for those who follow us. Just as those great Stoics did. If it’s transcendently great it might become timeless. But it’s not for us to decide such things.

    Our only purpose is to maximize our potential in the time we’re given. To cultivate our own ruling faculty and apply ourselves to becoming what we might. While we may.

  • Where Savoring Happens

    “He who is everywhere is nowhere.” – Seneca

    Simplify.

    Focus on fewer things. Focus on important things. Things of consequence.

    Quietly move away from the shallow pool of life into the deeper waters. Less splashing and shouting. You can’t dive deeply in shallow water. You must go deeper—away from the noise.

    Where life is richer. Conversations are more meaningful. Where recognition and realization take place. Where savoring happens.

    Give the mind a bit more elbow room and see where the world might take you when you aren’t constantly distracted by the noise of life.

    See what you may create. What you may come to understand. Where you may go. And who you may become.

    Here.

  • What Place Is This?

    This form, this face, this life
    Living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me
    Resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken,
    The awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.
    What seas what shores what granite islands towards my timbers
    And woodthrush calling through the fog
    My daughter.
    – T.S. Eliot, Marina

    I’m heading for granite islands and likely a fair share of fog this weekend. In a year of revised expectations, I remain hopeful that this will play out as planned. To travel once again, even if regionally, is a blessing. It’s been a long year, and we’re only 3/4 of the way there still. Local trips sprinkled onto the calendar offer a bit of seasoning when needed. So why don’t we head towards adventure instead of nesting in the house for yet another weekend? Who doesn’t want to be counted amongst the awakened?

    This poem begins with a quote from Seneca from Herculus Furens that sets the tone: “Quis hic locus, quae regio, quae mundi plaga? ubi sum? sub ortu solis, an sub cardine glacialis ursae?” which means (I’m told) “What place is this, what region, what quarter of the world? Where am I? Under the rising of the sun or beneath the wheeling course of the frozen bear?”

    When you come across a reference like this it confirms that we’re all building off each other, as I read and draw from Seneca so did T.S. Eliot in his time. There’s that Great Conversation turning up once again. And it reminds me that we’re all roughly the same, just born at different times in different places. With different challenges, overcome or overwhelmed, but part of our story either way. Herculus Furens was a tragedy, full of darkness and moral questions. This year seems to be a Seneca tragedy unfolding before us, only partially read. How it ends is anyone’s guess. But I’m an optimist, and hopeful for brighter days.

    Quit hic locus, quae regio, quae mundi plaga? The questions of a traveler and also every person living in 2020, not completely sure where they’ve ended up. Or where they might end up. And I find myself asking the same questions, wondering about where I am and, if fortune smiles, the places I will go. And more and more, I look northward for answers.

  • Drink Up Before the Dregs

    “Lay hold of to-day’s task, and you will not need to depend so much upon to-morrow’s. While we are postponing, life speeds by. Nothing, Lucilius, is ours, except time.” – Seneca

    “What is the state of things, then? It is this: I do not regard a man as poor, if the little which remains is enough for him. I advise you, however, to keep what is really yours; and you cannot begin too early. For, as our ancestors believed, it is too late to spare when you reach the dregs of the cask. Of that which remains at the bottom, the amount is slight, and the quality is vile.”
    – Seneca, Letters From a Stoic

    We had our first frost of Autumn overnight. The fog rising from the ponds this morning betrays warmer days conceding to cooler nights. In New Hampshire the leaves will soon turn progressively to bright yellow, red and orange before turning brown and returning to the earth to fuel the next generation. Such is the cycle of life.

    Early mornings trigger my adventurous spirit. I have the most energy and a willingness to dare greatly. By 9:30 – 10 PM I’m generally running on fumes and ready to call it a night. While I’m not old just yet, I suppose I’m the opposite of youth in this respect. Certainly the opposite of the rest of my household. And if a day is a lifetime, I reach the dregs sooner than most. But I started so much earlier in the day savoring that first sip (metaphorically, of course). I honor the Thoreau quote on the home page whenever possible, seeking adventures, but mostly I rise early.

    Seneca’s Letters From a Stoic is a call to action written almost 2000 years ago and still ignored by the vast majority of people in their lifetimes ever since. Nothing is ours but time! Keep what is really yours, for you cannot begin too early. Savor this very moment, such that it is, and make of it what you can. That is the eternal challenge for each of us. To spend wisely this moment. And each day offers reminders to get to it already.

  • Merely Time

    “Life will follow the path it started upon, and will neither reverse nor check its course; it will make no noise, it will not remind you of its swiftness.“ – Seneca, On The Shortness Of Life

    I re-read Seneca’s On The Shortness Of Life again over the last few days. Its a quick read but jammed full of timeless quotes we’ve all heard and yet don’t hear. They say repetition penetrates the dullest of minds, and perhaps thats a reason to re-read essays like this often. By dull I don’t mean I’m an idiot (though you may insist I reconsider), but rather distracted by the madness of life. We’re all so distracted by the whirl of everyday that we don’t value the breathless moment we’ll never see again. Seneca pokes at us from a distance- he’s been dead far longer than he was alive. And so will we be someday too soon. And so it is that he reminds us; why are you not fully alive today? Stop postponing time you don’t have!

    “Postponement is the greatest waste of life; it deprives them of each day as it comes, it snatches from them the present by promising something hereafter. The greatest hindrance to living is expectancy, which depends upon the morrow and wastes to-day.”

    It isn’t easy to honor the urgency of life. Even as I write this I’m distracted by other pressing things and need to force myself to turn off the work monitor until normal working hours. To turn off the Twitter feed, and all the rest of the noise. And to reflect on what matters now. For now will surely slip away as quickly as then did. The stack of thens grows taller by the day, casting a shadow on the brightness of tomorrow. There is only now.

    Life is divided into three periods – that which has been, that which is, that which will be. Of these the present time is short, the future is doubtful, the past is certain.”

    So what do we do in a pandemic when we can’t travel freely? In a career that demands fair share of your time? And in other commitments that demand of you? I believe we choose wisely, and make the most of the moments at hand. To live in this moment, drawing from the past for wisdom, and with an eye towards the future we’re navigating towards (even if we might never reach it). Making the most of our lives in the time we have.

    “The part of life we really live is small. For all the rest of existence is not life, but merely time”

  • Keep it Simple

    I quietly shelved plans to hike yesterday. Thunderstorms in the forecast, friends coming over, yard work to do… you know: excuses.  Instead I did projects and regretted not getting out there and hiking.  Lesson learned.  But the bulkhead looks better than it ever has with a fresh coat of paint and the lawn has been cut and treated to prevent grubs, which are the offspring of the Japanese Beetle, an invasive species that can ruin the garden and the lawn alike.  The plan was for the soaking rains forecast for the day to soak in the chemicals, but the rain never came in Southern New Hampshire, instead tracking north and south of us.  The drought continues.  Progress on the hiking paused.  Seeing pictures of my cousin hiking one of the 4000 footers and describing the perfect conditions completed the thoughts on what might have been.  But hey, the bulkhead looks nice.

    I admire the people who just say no:  Thanks for inviting me to go to the party, but nope, I’m going mountain biking instead.  Thanks for the generous offer to join your company, but no, I’ll stick with what I’m doing now.  I’d love to participate in that Teams meeting you’ve organized, but I’m using that time to develop a strategy for growing this other business.  Focus on the specific and elimination of the unnecessary go hand-in-hand.  My mind tends to add more stuff.  More books to read, more projects to finish, more people to see, more commitments to honor.  More excuses for not doing the things that I wanted to prioritize.  The answer is simplicity.  Elimination of the extraneous.  Essentialism, as Greg McKeown would call it.  I’ve read that book and a few others on this idea of boiling life down to the most important things.  It seems I’m highly resistant to adopting this concept.  Exhibit A: Attempting to add recertification in scuba diving to my list.  Exhibit B: Downloading War and Peace to add to the virtual pile of books to tackle, even as the other 100 titles whisper WTF? to each other…  if books could whisper anyway.  Exhibit C: Adding Portuguese to my list of languages on Duolingo even as I just barely skim the surface of fluency in French ( I confess I like the challenge of two languages at the same time).  Shall I go on?  No?  Got it.

    I’m quietly scheming to check some boxes in the next month.  Not faraway places boxes – no, that’s not possible just yet.  But pretty substantial boxes nonetheless.  Meaningful, if only to me.  So, the experts tell me, in order to complete a few of those tasks I need to get better at saying no to other tasks, and knowing what to prioritize:

    “Essentialists see trade-offs as an inherent part of life, not as an inherently negative part of life. Instead of asking, “What do I have to give up?” they ask, “What do I want to go big on?” – Greg McKeown, Essentialism

    “Don’t be on your deathbed someday, having squandered your one chance at life, full of regret because you pursued little distractions instead of big dreams.” –  Derek Sivers, Anything You Want

    “Doing less is the path of the productive.” – Tim Ferriss, The 4-Hour Workweek

    “We should be choosing what we want to keep, not what we want to get rid of.” – Marie Kondō, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up

    “Simplicity is so attractive and so profitable that it is strange that so few people lead truly simple lives.” – Leo Tolstoy

    “Being poor is not having too little, it is wanting more.” – Seneca

    So keeping things simple and focusing on the big dreams instead of little distractions seems to be the consensus amongst our panel of experts.  Alas, this remains my achilles heal, the mindset and behavior I work to overcome.  I don’t believe I’m alone in this one, judging from the success of the modern authors on this panel of experts or the timelessness of the older panel members.  You believe adding more is the answer, when really it’s just the opposite.  Lesson heard once again, but not yet mastered.  But we’re all works in progress, aren’t we?

    There are lifetime “go big” dreams and short-term priorities.  They should ultimately be pulling you in the same general direction.  Want to be a healthy and vibrant centurion?  Hiking, stress elimination and keeping the mind sharp through reading, travel and language learning seem to be a good path.  Want to complete that bucket list of places to go before you go?  Spend less time and money on stuff that doesn’t matter as much and book the trip already.  Vienna waits for you.  Want to write that book?  Write every day and experience more so you have a full well of ideas to tap into.  Want to have a healthy, lifetime marriage?  Choose every day to nurture it and keep it alive:   Hug more than you bicker, listen more than you talk, sprinkle quiet magic into the minutes as they add up to a lifetime.  In short, keeping it simple gives you a full enough bucket to accomplish the things that really matter, and maybe to reach your potential.  At the very least you’ll live a more interesting and less stressful life.