🏛️ Sundays with Seneca
Sundays with Seneca is a weekly series exploring the writings (and Stoic philosophy) of Lucius Annaeus Seneca. Each meditation delivers a contemporary interpretation of one of Seneca’s letters, accompanied by a reflection exercise. *** This series is exclusive to members.
Think on Death, Think on Freedom
Letter 26, On Old Age and Death
Not long ago, I told you I was “within sight” of old age. Now I fear I’ve left old age behind. Some other word fits my years—or at least my body—better now, for old age suggests being tired, not yet crushed. You may class me among the worn-out, those nearing the end.
And yet, with you as my witness, I give thanks: age has not harmed my mind, although I feel it in my body. Only my vices, along with the supports that upheld them, have grown old. My mind remains strong and pleased to be only lightly connected to the body. It has shed most of its burden. It is alert. It debates with me about old age and insists that this is its time to bloom.
Let me take it at its word.
My mind urges me to ask how much of my calm and moderation comes from wisdom, and how much simply from my years. It tells me to distinguish clearly what I cannot do from what I simply do not want to do.
Why complain, or call it a misfortune, when powers that ought to end have ended?
Death as the Final Exam
“But,” you say, “it’s a great misfortune to be worn out and to die away—to melt rather than be struck down. We aren’t suddenly felled; we are used up, losing something every day.”
Is there any better ending, though, than to slip quietly into harbor when nature loses the mooring rope? Not that a sudden departure is painful—it need not be—but this slower way is easy: a gradual retreat.
