Seneca on Honor, Fortune, and Death

The chief means of attaining the happy life (…) consist in the belief that the only good lies in that which is honourable. For anyone who deems other things to be good, puts himself in the power of fortune, and goes under the control of another. But he who has in every case defined the good by the honourable is happy with an inward happiness. [^1]

Honor and the good

Honor is central to self-mastery. It has been examined, discussed, and praised since the ancients. To live honorably is deemed the highest good and should be our compass in life at all times. There are two ways to live: we either let circumstances dictate our well-being, or live well regardless of what fortune has in store for us. It is through our will and own volition that we can live virtuously, and so obtain the supreme good. Honor is never touched by the passing world of events, but can exist within it and alter its course. There is wisdom in acknowledging the shortness of life—so why not aim for the highest of all things? Even if you were able to live for ten thousand years, the quest would still be the same: to find the good within yourself and bring it forth into the world. We do not have time to waste on anything else.

Honor is a virtue and is part of the Service, and relates therefore to many areas at once. It governs Spirit and Matter, unites Heart and Mind, and often greatly impacts our Relationships and Body. Life is a winding road, ever complex, with many areas calling for our attention. A clear singular direction is necessary if we wish to gain self-mastery. Perfection in every area at all times cannot be achieved, but doing what is honorable as the energy in different areas changes is certainly within reach. This is true harmony: to know your central aim in life and guide the course through different terrains. The good life looks different for everyone. Each tree in the forest is unique in its own way, but its purpose is always the same: to be of service.  Honor helps us realize our service and to be steadfast regardless of the tides of fortune. Honor is cultivated one small step at a time, but shows itself the instant the storm is unleashed. This is what Seneca truly practiced and taught.

Fortune

“I desire a life of honour. Now a life of honour includes various kinds of conduct; itmay include the chest in which Regulus was confined, or the wound of Cato which was torn open by Cato’s own hand, or the exile of Rutilius, or the cup of poison which removed Socrates from gaol to heaven. Accordingly, in praying for a life of honour, I have prayedalso for those things without which, on some occasions, life cannot be honourable.”[^1]

Seneca wrote his 'Letters from a Stoic" after retiring from Nero’s court. He was the Roman emperor at the time and a previous student of Seneca. Nero, jealous of Seneca’s success, eventually gave the command to commit suicide. Even Plato, perhaps the greatest writer of Western thought, became a slave only to be bought free by luck, before founding his famous academy in Athens. Marten Luther King acted for justice, and was killed for refusing to stop. So many examples can be stated, all pointing to the fact that fortune can easily flip the tide. Kings become slaves and slaves become kings, wealth is stacked through generations and given up within single hour.  How much value do we place on the current of the tide?

Life is by no means easy; she will most certainly test us. Whether she does so consciously, willingly, or maliciously, the conclusion is the same. To do what is honorable in all circumstances is a meaningful way to realize the good life. Yet, life stays incredibly messy, regardless of our conduct. But it is precisely the changing of the tides that shines a light on our virtue or our base. By desiring to live well, we need honor, and that is to desire fortune to test us, sometimes to the utmost regard.

Seneca was deeply involved in Rome’s politics, court, and life. He condemns fortune without the slightest hint of humor. Much of his attitude can be reflected in the chaos of his own life. Working for Nero, the Roman emperor and tyrant who killed his own mother, was perhaps the fire that ignited him towards the good. Extraordinary as Seneca’s situation was, we should heed the message. Human struggles only vary in size; the nature of our problems is constant. Circumstances change like the weather, but do not necessarily affect us. It is how we act through it all that matters.

Honor does not grow or diminish in size depending on the environment. It is unnecessary to condemn fortune, like Seneca often does. Nor should we be fearful for what’s to come. Life is wise, beautiful, hard, but only treacherous if we ourselves are so. It is how we walk, rather than where or to what end, that matters. Constant practice to bring harmony to our own soul by focusing on our higher nature while encompassing the lower is the practice.

Living honorably often carries more risk for the individual: torture, imprisonment, exile, forced suicide, execution, starvation, illness, poverty, and loss of friends and family are not uncommon. Honor is therefore not a neutral stance in life, and can carry immense consequences. Although honor is perfect, we always carry many different layers. Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Grandi, Marten Luther King, whoever you look up to, they possess some but not all indefinite virtues.

Being in the spotlight of humanity does not increase or diminish your honor either. If a quiet life is possible, then we should take it willingly. But even then, experiencing some chaos, whether internal or external, is inevitable. Honor, when developed by long practice, can act as a compass. But reality is often different; we only develop and see the good once the storm has begun and we’re being swept away by the tide. There’s a certain rawness in living honorably. Seneca’s Letters are extremely blunt and to the point. He must have realized he didn’t have much time left.

Should we act any differently, even in times of peace? It is extremely rare for a human to leave this earth untouched by the plagues of fortune. War, famine, exile, death, illness, loss, to experience one form of suffering is inevitable. We mustn’t ignore the fact that life can change in a heartbeat. She will most certainly test us. Even if that doesn’t come in the form of an external calamity, one’s internal world can just as easily turn into a living hell. Although internal serenity is to be preferred over external peace, if one had to choose, both are susceptible to change. This is precisely why we need something higher that’s never touched by external or internal storms. Something that’s both beyond, yet within our nature.

This higher good already exists; we just have to find it, cultivate it, and do so fast. We’ll most likely never fully reach it, but neither should we fool ourselves. Life is fading before our eyes. We waste so much energy on trivial pursuits, not knowing what should come first. It is in the eyes of death that we can understand the value of honor. For how else do we know that Socrates meant what he said, if he didn’t refuse to escape jail, but faced his death willingly? How do we know that Seneca sincerely wrote if he indeed did not accept his fate when the hour came that Nero sent for him? How can we know for ourselves that we are alive if we don’t keep the end in mind at all times? Death strips away everything that wasn’t ours.

Death

“One man is saddened when his children die; another is anxious when they become ill; a third is embittered when they do something disgraceful, or suffer a taint in their reputation. One man, you will observe, is tortured by passion for his neighbor’s wife, another by passion for his own. You will find men who are completely upset by failure to win an election, and others who are actually plagued by the offices which they have won. But the largest throng of unhappy men among the host of mortals are those whom the expectation of death, which threatens them on every hand, drives to despair. For there is no quarter from which death may not approach. Hence, like soldiers scouting in the enemy’s country, they must look about in all directions, and turn their heads at every sound; unless the breast be rid of this fear, one lives with a palpitating heart.” [^1]

To fear death at moments of danger is natural. To be controlled by this fear is a state known only to humans. Death indeed seems to be the greatest of all misfortunes. There is only one way into life, but infinite ways out. All the smaller fears, such as loss of love, a dent in reputation, and bankruptcy, point towards the fear of death. It is honorable to go deep into it and courageously face our own end. The opposite of death is birth, not life. Life will continue, and honor is an expression of that force. This is Seneca’s most central teaching: to aim for the highest regardless of where we are and what we’re doing.

Death, he says, is always within our own hands. In some cases, suicide is the honorable thing to do. But such a circumstance is rare. Many good people have chosen death willingly, by their own hands or because their actions caused another to end it for them. It would be wrong to think honor is about death. Quite the opposite. Virtue is about choosing life, but not being afraid of death. The good is something higher than our own birth and death. Honor helps reach this good and to be of service. Willing to sacrifice your life is the ultimate basis for living honorably. Stories like Socrates' or Seneca’s merely prove to us the fact that honor exists.

Seneca himself was faced with a situation where Nero killed his own mother while Seneca was aware of it. Speaking against him would’ve resulted in treason, meaning his own death, and possibly a civil war within the empire. Seneca chose to cover up for him by writing a letter to the Roman Senate. He lied for a tyrant. Either to save himself, the empire, or a mixture of both. Much has been debated about this, but the point is this: when we’re unwilling to die, we’re unwilling to truly live. When we seek to avoid death at all costs, honor is not honor. When we seek to live honorably at all costs, voluntary death is almost always necessary. Only in the very rare cases does this mean death of the body. More often, it means giving up the ego, one’s wealth, certain relationships, status, and other identifications we have with form. Overcoming the lower parts of nature, so the higher may serve, is the practice of virtue.

Long meditation

Honor does not scream on the streets. Sages are often depicted as beggars while wearing an interior lining of gold or jewels. It is thus wise to keep silent. Another mistake is to depict virtue as bigger or more difficult than it really is. It is doable, with persistent effort and humbleness. Do not expect others to teach you everything. Get inspired, but the control of your life lies not in the wisdom of another, but in your own application of that which you know to be right. ‘Am I living more honorably than one year, one month, and one day ago?’ is a good question to ask yourself. We should always be progressing towards the end, but never reach it. Virtue is not magically installed from birth, and is practiced, learned, and acquired. One doesn’t gain anything by becoming more virtuous, but rather releases that which is base layer, by layer.

This process is not defined in a single instance but is rather a succession of our choices and steps. The longer we practice, the better, but intensity matters just as much. We do not all have the privilege of thirty years before we realize that the way we live matters. In order to become honorable, one needs very little training. It’s usually ignited by a troubling situation, not when life is going according to plan. Honor gives us a way to honor the sacred. This gives contentment and peace that cannot be touched by any circumstance. And when we eventually come to the end, sooner or later. Knowing we lived well and the peace that results from it is the greatest gift we can ever give to ourselves.