Breakfast with Seneca: A Stoic Guide to the Art of Living

CHAPTER 5

Wherever You Go, There You Are: You Can’t Escape Yourself

Those who rush across the sea change their weather, but not their minds.

—Horace, Letters 1.11.27

ONE DAY LUCILIUS WAS FEELING A BIT DEPRESSED and wanted to cheer himself up by taking a trip, as many people do today. He thought a change of scenery might help to improve his mood. Unfortunately, the project was a failure: Lucilius’s depression was not cured. But as Seneca commented, “You must change the mind, not the location,” because “your faults will travel with you wherever you go.”1

Well, so much for that idea!

I once experienced something similar. Long ago, I had a chance to spend a week in an Italian Renaissance villa—the Villa Saraceno, designed by the famous architect Andrea Palladio (1508–1580)—with ten or twelve friends. But I had recently experienced the breakup of a promising relationship and was still feeling the sting of grief. Despite that, since it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to stay in a Palladian villa (and cost almost nothing), I decided to go on the trip, which was unforgettable. But when I was alone in my room, I sometimes broke down into tears, because of the grief and disappointment that had followed me there.

When Seneca was writing his letters to Lucilius, he changed locations frequently, traveling here or there to one of his country retreats. In one funny letter, he even found himself staying above a noisy gym and bathhouse in Rome. In amusing detail, he described the sounds of people grunting during their workouts, which drifted up from below to his apartment. I mention this to stress that Seneca was no stranger to travel, nor did he disapprove of it. Seneca felt that everyone needs periods of relaxation to release the mind. He also felt that getting out of Rome with its smoky, polluted air was a good idea, if not a medical necessity.2

If Seneca thought travel was fine, though, why did he write so much about how our inner troubles follow us wherever we go—a theme that comes up repeatedly in his writings?

Since Seneca was a Stoic, his attention was focused on how to realistically improve our inner character. Because of that, he opposed the idea that someone could improve his or her mental state, at least in a lasting way, by simply going on a trip. Whatever problems we suffer from internally, they do follow us: “The fault is not in one’s circumstances but in the mind itself. . . . His malady follows him.”3 What is to be gained by “getting away from it all,” he asks, since our worries will follow us everywhere we go? But to drive the point home, he notes bluntly: “If you want to escape your troubles, you don’t need to be somewhere else: you need to be someone else.”4

Seneca had a specific kind of personality in mind when writing about how people can misuse travel. These are the kinds of people who will use any possible diversion to avoid facing their inner lives—and to avoid whatever it is they need “to work on,” as we say today. It’s common psychological knowledge that some people stay busy or distracted all the time to fend off feelings of emptiness, loneliness, or depression. Since we live in a consumer society, emphasis is placed on owning external things, participating in external activities, and achieving external accomplishments. By contrast, taking a deep look inside ourselves and then feeling a sense of emptiness, rather than discovering a well-developed and happy personality, could be quite uncomfortable. The Stoic view is not that external things are unimportant, but that true happiness and peace of mind originates from within. So those who fail to develop their inner character are unlikely to be truly happy.

In the same way that “distracted” or “preoccupied” people rush around and misuse the gift of time (chapter 2), the preoccupied also misuse the gift of travel to avoid developing their inner selves. As Seneca notes somewhat pointedly, “If you’re always choosing remote spots to chase after leisure, you’ll find sources of distraction everywhere.”5

In the end, he wonders, if each person is trying to flee himself, what is the point of fleeing if there is no escape?

HAVING A REAL DESTINATION

The mind cannot become stable unless it stops wandering.

—Seneca, Letters 69.1

For Seneca, having a real destination is of supreme importance. When you have a real destination, you also have focus, consistency, and a goal you’re moving closer to. The opposite of having a destination involves a lack of focus, inconsistency, and mere wandering. When you have a real destination, you actually know what you’re living for. But that’s not true for someone who’s wandering or just reacting to whatever happens next.

We can see how having a real destination perfectly ties in with the idea of Stoicism being “a path” (explored in chapter 1), because a path exists to take you somewhere. The way that Seneca repeatedly contrasts the idea of having a real destination with the idea of just wandering cannot be due to chance. Instead, it’s a brilliant and intentional metaphor to explain his overall understanding of Stoicism and the importance of focus and consistency in making progress.

Just how important this was for Seneca is confirmed by the fact that it comes up at the very beginning of his second letter to Lucilius. In other words, Seneca brings up the topic of focus and “not wandering” at the earliest possible opportunity:

LETTER 2

From Seneca to Lucilius, greetings

Based on your letter and what I’m hearing, I’m becoming very hopeful about you. You are not rushing around or letting frequent changes of place disturb you. That kind of restlessness is the sign of an unhealthy mind. In my view, the first proof of a stable mind is its ability to stay in one place and enjoy its own company.6

Seneca then suddenly changes the subject to talk about selecting and reading the right books, to discuss how “not wandering” is vital in reading also: “If you wish to take in something that will settle reliably in your mind,” he says, “you must dwell with a few chosen thinkers and be nourished by their works. Someone who is everywhere is nowhere. Those who travel constantly end up with many acquaintances, but no real friends.”7

In this way, Seneca shows how both traveling and reading can be harmed by wandering, by not having a real destination. Of course, having access to a research library of thousands of books might be useful. But in terms of becoming a wise human being, deeply absorbing the thoughts of a few solid and proven authors is essential. As Seneca advises, “Study not in order to know more, but to know better.”8

In both reading and travel, you need some focus and a destination. You don’t want to wander to and fro. As he says, people who travel constantly have many acquaintances but no real friends, which is not an exaggeration. For example, I’ve known and entertained digital nomads, people who constantly travel the world, working from their laptops. And while it works well for some (especially couples), the inability to form lasting friendships while always on the move—and the loneliness that it breeds—is a problem for many.

“Those who follow a path,” Seneca writes, “have a destination, but wandering is limitless.”9 While travel is fine, the desire to travel constantly is a sign of “disquiet” or “an unsteady spirit.”10 “As you progress,” Seneca tells Lucilius, “take pains above all to be consistent with yourself,” because “a change of purpose shows that the mind is drifting at sea, appearing here and there, as if blown around by the wind.”11 (See figure 3.)

For example, if I’m working on a project with mental focus, I can go on the Internet, look up a piece of information on the web, and get back to work immediately. But if I don’t have that kind of focus, I can easily surf the web, then Facebook, and then YouTube, wandering around for hours. Doing that now and then is certainly harmless, but doing it daily, as a form of procrastination, might indicate that something is wrong. When people procrastinate, it’s often a sign that they find their work to be unfulfilling. In that case, it might make sense to think about finding some more exciting work, if possible.

A Student of Stoicism

A Typical non-Stoic

Is traveling with a destination

Is wandering without a path

Is focused and consistent

Lacks focus and consistency

Is settled and calm. Lives in the present moment. Anticipates the future without anxiety.

Feels unsettled. Tries to flee the self. Worries about the future.

Has a guiding purpose

Is blown in different directions by the winds of chance

Realizes that unhappiness is caused by our opinions about things

Thinks that other people or external things make us unhappy

Knows how to avoid or how to deconstruct extreme negative emotions

Experiences extreme negative emotions on a regular basis and doesn’t know why

Overcomes adversity by transforming it into something positive or admirable. Keeps moving forward.

Suffers from adversity and discouragement. Feels thwarted by setbacks.

Is grateful to the universe

Complains frequently

Is traveling on the way to freedom and tranquility by learning how to make sound mental judgments

Is enslaved by false opinions, which result in negative emotions and suffering

Fig 3: Seneca’s descriptions of how a Stoic differs from a typical non-Stoic, including metaphors related to travel.

While Seneca advocates focus and having a destination, he certainly wasn’t some kind of joyless “all work and no play” kind of person. Having leisure and free time was something he valued greatly. He even wrote a work On Leisure, which you can still read today.12 Seneca’s interests included viticulture, or growing grapes, so he must have been a winemaker. While he gave up drinking wine later in life, he advocated drinking for some people, even up to the edge of intoxication, because of the freeing effect wine can have on the mind.

For Seneca, having leisure time was one of the finest things in life. But leisure is only fulfilling if the mind is stable and well-developed enough to really enjoy it. That’s why philosophy, for Seneca, was an essential companion for living a good and happy life. A wise person, for example, will be able to travel and get something profound out of the trip because his or her mind is prepared for the experience, while others just “embark on one journey after another and exchange spectacle after spectacle.”13 In terms of deep enjoyment, what you actually get out of life depends on what you bring to it.

While a wise person or Stoic in training should have a calm and steady mind, many people are restless, discontent, unsettled, and easily irritated. Writing about Seneca’s thought, philosopher and historian Mark Holowchak offers a significant insight into why restless people feel that travel will improve their emotional state. It has to do with expectancy, “the hope that tomorrow will be better than today.” Expectancy, he explains, is usually created through the combination of distress and desire. Distress is the feeling that some ill is present now, and desire comes from “the feeling that some good is lurking on the horizon to replace the ill.”14 In short, if we could just get “there,” things would be better.

While Seneca believed that some locations are unhealthy (think beach town, during spring break), he said, “We should live with this belief: ‘I was not born for one small corner. This entire world is my homeland.’”15 Like the other Roman Stoics, Seneca thought that someone could be happy almost anywhere, even if subjected to exile. As he noted, “The place where one lives doesn’t contribute much to tranquility. It’s the mind that makes everything agreeable to itself. I’ve seen gloomy people in a cheerful, pleasant villa, and people working happily in complete isolation.”16

It’s always possible that travel might help some people remove their dissatisfactions with life, based on the belief that things will be better somewhere else. But that belief is more likely to be a case of what some psychologists call the “grass is greener syndrome,” based on the saying “the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.” While not an official psychological diagnosis, it’s certainly a real thing, and it accounts for many failed relationships. Because when relationships end, someone often believes, “My life would be better with someone else.” So instead of watering or tending the lawn one already has, a lawn elsewhere seems to be more desirable, or greener, even though that’s usually a fantasy.

Sometimes, the grass might be greener elsewhere, and another lawn might be a real destination. But people who frequently suffer from expectancy are always likely to be dissatisfied and restless, because wherever they go, there they are. Since you can’t escape yourself, the solution to psychological unhappiness usually lies within.

HAVING A GUIDING PURPOSE

For Seneca, having a destination is identical to having a guiding purpose, which is the real point of studying Stoic philosophy in the first place.

Seneca advocates a “steady and calm way of life that follows a single path.” But, as he says, many people jump from one purpose to another, frequently changing their plans. It’s like the winds of chance blow them here or there. “There are only a few,” he says, “who plan their lives and affairs by a guiding purpose.” The rest are just swept along, some violently, like objects floating down a fast-moving river. The alternative, he writes, is that “we should decide what we really want, and stand by that decision.”17

People make mistakes, he says, because they consider the parts of life, but not life as a whole. Similarly, as an archer has a target, we should have an overall goal of life. As he notes in a memorable line, “When someone doesn’t know what port he’s sailing for, no wind is favorable.” In other words, without a destination, people’s lives are ruled by chance.18

Fortunately, he claims, a compass does exist to guide us safely. And that guide is not a religion, a revealed scripture, or anything external, but our own power of clear thinking: “Whenever you want to know what to seek or avoid, look to your Highest Good, the aim of your entire life,” because whatever we do should be in harmony with that.19

While the idea that “a person should live according to their Highest Good” might sound a bit strange to our modern ears, it made perfect sense to the Roman Stoics. They also knew exactly what that Highest Good was for them: it was always striving to live in a way that is honorable and rational, with excellence of character, by aligning your life with the four cardinal virtues of wisdom, courage, moderation, and justice.