September

8th
DO NOT BE DECEIVED BY FORTUNE

“No one is crushed by Fortune, unless they are first deceived by her . . . those who aren’t
pompous in good times, don’t have their bubbles burst with change. Against either circumstance,
the stable person keeps their rational soul invincible, for it’s precisely in the good times they
prove their strength against adversity.”
—SENECA, ON CONSOLATION TO HELVIA, 5.4b, 5b–6

I n 41 AD, Seneca was exiled from Rome to Corsica—for what exactly, we are not sure, but the rumors
were that he had an affair with the sister of the emperor. Shortly afterward, he sent a letter to his
mother seeking to reassure her and comfort her in her grief. But in many ways, he must have been speaking
to himself as well—scolding himself a little for this unexpected twist he was taking pretty hard.
He’d managed to achieve some measure of political and social success. He might have chased some
pleasures of the flesh. Now he and his family were dealing with the consequences—as we all must bear
for our behavior and for the risks we take.
How would he respond? How would he deal with it? Well, at the very least, his instincts were to
comfort his mother instead of simply bemoaning his own suffering. Though some other letters show that
Seneca begged and lobbied for his return to Rome and power (a request eventually granted), he seems to
have borne the pain and disgrace of exile fairly well. The philosophy that he’d long studied prepared him
for this kind of adversity and gave him the determination and patience he needed to wait it out. When he
found his fortune restored as he returned to power, philosophy prevented him from taking it for granted or
becoming dependent on it. This was good because fortune had another turn in store for him. When the new
emperor turned his wrath on Seneca, philosophy found him ready and prepared once again.
 September 9th
NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FEAR ITSELF

“But there is no reason to live and no limit to our miseries if we let our fears predominate.”
—SENECA, M ORAL LETTERS, 13.12b

I n the early days of what would become known as the Great Depression, a new president named
Franklin Delano Roosevelt was sworn in and gave his first inaugural address. As the last president to
hold office before the Twentieth Amendment was ratified, FDR wasn’t able to take office until March—
meaning that the country had been without strong leadership for months. Panic was in the air, banks were
failing, and people were scared.
You’ve probably heard the “nothing to fear but fear itself” sound bite that FDR gave in that famous
speech, but the full line is worth reading because it applies to many difficult things we face in life:

“Let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless,
unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

The Stoics knew that fear was to be feared because of the miseries it creates. The things we fear pale
in comparison to the damage we do to ourselves and others when we unthinkingly scramble to avoid them.
An economic depression is bad; a panic is worse. A tough situation isn’t helped by terror—it only makes
things harder. And that’s why we must resist it and reject it if we wish to turn this situation around.
 September 10th
PREPARING ON THE SUNNY DAY

“Here’s a lesson to test your mind’s mettle: take part of a week in which you have only the most
meager and cheap food, dress scantly in shabby clothes, and ask yourself if this is really the
worst that you feared. It is when times are good that you should gird yourself for tougher times
ahead, for when Fortune is kind the soul can build defenses against her ravages. So it is that
soldiers practice maneuvers in peacetime, erecting bunkers with no enemies in sight and
exhausting themselves under no attack so that when it comes they won’t grow tired.”
—SENECA, M ORAL LETTERS, 18.5–6

W hat if you spent one day a month experiencing the effects of poverty, hunger, complete isolation, or
any other thing you might fear? After the initial culture shock, it would start to feel normal and no
longer quite so scary.
There are plenty of misfortunes one can practice, plenty of problems one can solve in advance.
Pretend your hot water has been turned off. Pretend your wallet has been stolen. Pretend your cushy
mattress was far away and that you have to sleep on the floor, or that your car was repossessed and you
have to walk everywhere. Pretend you lost your job and need to find a new one. Again, don’t just think
about these things, but live them. And do it now, while things are good. As Seneca reminds us: “It is
precisely in times of immunity from care that the soul should toughen itself beforehand for occasions of
greater stress. . . . If you would not have a man flinch when the crisis comes, train him before it comes.”
 September 11th
WHAT WOULD LESS LOOK LIKE?

“Let us get used to dining out without the crowds, to being a slave to fewer slaves, to getting
clothes only for their real purpose, and to living in more modest quarters.”
—SENECA, ON TRANQUILITY OF M IND, 9.3b

T he writer Stefan Zweig—known for his Stoic-esque wisdom—was at one point one of the bestselling
authors in the world, only to have his life destroyed by the rise of Hitler. It’s a sad yet timeless
rhythm of history: politicians are run out of office for taking a stand we later recognize as courageous.
Countless hardworking and prosperous couples have their money stolen by financial crooks. Someone is
accused of a crime but not vindicated until years later.
At any moment we may be toppled from our perch and made to do with less—less money, less
recognition, less access, less resources. Even the “less-es” that come with age: less mobility, less energy,
less freedom. But we can prepare for that, in some way, by familiarizing ourselves with what that might
feel like.
One way to protect yourself from the swings of fate—and from the emotional vertigo that can result—
is by living within your means now. So today, we can try to get used to having and surviving on less so
that if we are ever forced to have less, it would not be so bad.
 September 12th
BE DOWN TO EARTH, OR BE BROUGHT DOWN

“Zeno always said that nothing was more unbecoming than putting on airs, especially with the
young.”
—DIOGENES LAERTIUS, LIVES OF THE EMINENT PHILOSOPHERS, 7.1.22

I socrates’s famous letter to Demonicus (which later became the inspiration for Polonius’s “To thine
own self be true” speech) holds a similar warning to Zeno. Writing to the young man, Isocrates
advises: “Be affable in your relations with those who approach you, and never haughty; for the pride of
the arrogant even slaves can hardly endure.”
One of the most common tropes in art—from ancient literature to popular movies—is the brash and
overconfident young man who has to be taken down a peg by an older, wiser man. It’s a cliché because
it’s a fact of life: people tend to get ahead of themselves, thinking they’ve got it all figured out and are
better than those that don’t. It becomes so unpleasant to put up with that someone has to drop some
knowledge on them.
But this is an entirely avoidable confrontation. If the bubble is never inflated, it won’t need to be
popped. Overconfidence is a great weakness and a liability. But if you are already humble, no one will
need to humble you—and the world is much less likely to have nasty surprises in store for you. If you stay
down to earth, no one will need to bring you—oftentimes crushingly so—back down.