Seneca saw poverty as a state of mind or spiritual condition more than as a state of destitution. Seneca was, in actuality, quite wealthy and influential, serving as chief counsel to Emperor Nero for a time. Seneca saw in his wealth the danger of becoming accustomed to having his wants and needs fulfilled at all times without worry. It seems “soft times create soft men” was a popular maxim 2,000 years ago, too.
Famously, Seneca kept a room in his home with an earthen floor and would confine himself to it from time to time while wearing rags for clothes and subsisting on the crusts of bread. Why would a rich and powerful man forsake luxury and opulence this way? He was training himself. In his view, living voluntarily in this way and finding it to not be nearly as terrible as he might have feared caused him to lose his anxiety over the loss of his wealth and power, should that ever happen. He knew that his possessions and influence were subject to forces entirely out of his control and he wanted to acclimate himself to a life without them, should Fate deliver it.
Seneca’s words and influence can be a lesson in gratitude to those of us in recovery. We are reminded to have gratitude for the things we do have. Of them, perhaps the most important is what the Stoics called our “directing minds” which are capable of driving our thoughts and actions to better living. Gratitude is a powerful antidote to relapse. It can be difficult at times though.
Newly-recovering addicts are frequently dealing with a litany of problems—financial, legal, marital, etc. To foster a sense of gratitude can be difficult when the walls are crashing down all around you. But, it’s a necessary exercise to be thankful for the will to recover and the tools we have to implement that recovery.
Countless times, I went to an AA meeting with the notion that if given the chance, I’d unload a bit of what was bothering me. Nearly every time, before I had my chance to share, someone would discuss a challenge to their sobriety that dwarfed mine. It’s not that my problems were not significant, it’s just that they sometimes seemed too trivial when compared to the gravity of someone else’s challenges. After hundreds of meetings, I came to understand well that people all around me were facing substantial difficulties and doing it with a grace I came to admire.
After a while, I found it was better for me in meetings to make my purpose in going not to discuss my problems, but to provide the most insight or comfort I could to someone else who felt compelled to share.
Seneca and the Stoics knew that complaining about life’s difficulties doesn’t solve them. It is the direction of one’s rational mind to those problems which empowers us to overcome difficulties and improve our lot in life.
So, we should not wish our problems away or bellyache about them. We should always be looking for ways to put our problems in perspective. Sometimes this can be accomplished by considering those we know who are truly dealing with life or death issues. Oftentimes, we can find the proper perspective by simply acknowledging our sobriety and being thankful we have productive ways of assessing our problems and tackling them that do not involve relapse. Dear Reader, I hope you will take stock of the progress you have made in sobriety and understand the monumental steps you’ve taken to productively solving your problems. Keep that perspective and gratitude with you always.
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