On the Shortness of Life Book Review
Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c. 4 BC – AD 65), also known as Seneca the Younger, was a Roman Stoic philosopher and statesman, who wisely guided the Roman Empire through the early reign of Emperor Nero.
Seneca, along with Marcus Aurelius, is one of the indispensable thinkers from Ancient Roman philosophy.
The book On Shortness of Life is a subset of the much larger work of Seneca that make up the Stoic classic Letters from Stoic.
This short book is full of practical wisdom on how to live, value your time, tranquility of mind and focus on living a simple, stress-free life.
Must read for anyone interested in Stoic Philosophy or practical advice on living.
On the Shortness of Life Book Summary
Note: This summary is made up of my notes, thoughts and highlights of important passages while reading the book. I keep updating the summary when I revisit it, and occasionally may edit it to reduce summary length. Don’t be surprised if it has changed between visits. The author’s words are in normal font, while my interpretations are in italics.
On the Shortness of Life
It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested.
When life is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing.
We are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it.
Our lifetime extends amply if you manage it properly.
Many pursue no fixed goal, but are tossed about in ever-changing designs by a fickleness which is shifting, inconstant and never satisfied with itself.
It is a small part of life we really live. Indeed, all the rest is not life but merely time.
No one makes his claim to himself, but each is exploited for another’s sake. Ask about those whose names are learned by heart, and you will see that: X cultivates Y and Y cultivates Z – no one bothers about himself.
Can anyone dare to complain about another’s pride when he himself never has time for himself?
You have no reason to claim credit from anyone for those attentions, since you showed them not because you wanted someone else’s company but because you could not bear your own.
People are frugal in guarding their personal property; but as soon as it comes to squandering time they are most wasteful of the one thing in which it is right to be stingy.
You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire.
You will hear many people saying: ‘When I am fifty I shall retire into leisure; when I am sixty I shall give up public duties.’
- And what guarantee do you have of a longer life?
- Who will allow your course to proceed as you arrange it?”
- How late it is to begin really to live just when life must end!
- How stupid to forget our mortality, and put off sensible plans to our fiftieth and sixtieth years, aiming to begin life from a point at which few have arrived!”
So valuable did leisure seem to Marcus Aurelius that because he could not enjoy it in actuality, he did so mentally in advance.
Living is the least important activity of the preoccupied man; yet there is nothing which is harder to learn.
Learning how to live takes a whole life, and, which may surprise you more, it takes a whole life to learn how to die.
All those who call you to themselves draw you away from yourself.
Mark off, I tell you, and review the days of your life: you will see that very few – the useless remnants – have been left to you.
Everyone hustles his life along, and is troubled by a longing for the future and weariness of the present.
The man who spends all his time on his own needs, who organizes every day as though it were his last, neither longs for nor fears the next day.
So you must not think a man has lived long because he has white hair and wrinkles: he has not lived long, just existed long.
I am always surprised to see some people demanding the time of others and meeting a most obliging response. Both sides have in view the reason for which the time is asked and neither regards the time itself.
No one will bring back the years; no one will restore you to yourself. Life will follow the path it began to take, and will neither reverse nor check its course.
The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today.
You are arranging what lies in Fortune’s control, and abandoning what lies in yours.
- What are you looking at? To what goal are you straining?
- The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.
You must match time’s swiftness with your speed in using it, and you must drink quickly as though from a rapid stream that will not always flow.
Life is divided into three periods, past, present and future. Of these, the present is short, the future is doubtful, the past is certain.
No one willingly reverts to the past unless all his actions have passed his own censorship, which is never deceived.
The man who must fear his own memory is the one who has been ambitious in his greed, arrogant in his contempt, uncontrolled in his victories, treacherous in his deceptions, rapacious in his plundering, and wasteful in his squandering.
In the present we have only one day at a time, each offering a minute at a time.
It is the mind which is tranquil and free from care which can roam through all the stages of its life.
The present time is extremely short, so much so that some people are unaware of it. For it is always on the move, flowing on in a rush; it ceases before it has come, and does not suffer delay any more than the firmament or the stars.
Of all people only those are at leisure who make time for philosophy, only those are really alive. For they not only keep a good watch over their own lifetimes, but they annex every age to theirs.
By the toil of others we are led into the presence of things which have been brought from darkness into light.
Overcome human nature with the Stoics, and exceed its limits with the Cynics.
There is nothing that the passage of time does not demolish and remove.
The life of the philosopher extends widely: he is not confined by the same boundary as are others. He alone is free from the laws that limit the human race, and all ages serve him as though he were a god.
The life of the philosopher extends widely:
- Some time has passed: he grasps it in his recollection.
- Time is present: he uses it.
- Time is to come: he anticipates it.
This combination of all times into one gives him a long life.
But life is very short and anxious for those who forget the past, neglect the present, and fear the future.
All the greatest blessings create anxiety, and Fortune is never less to be trusted than when it is fairest.
Whatever comes our way by chance is unsteady, and the higher it rises the more liable it is to fall.
It is inevitable that life will be not just very short but very miserable for those who acquire by great toil what they must keep by greater toil.
New preoccupations take the place of the old, hope excites more hope and ambition more ambition. They do not look for an end to their misery, but simply change the reason for it.
There will always be causes for anxiety, whether due to prosperity or to wretchedness. Life will be driven on through a succession of preoccupations: we shall always long for leisure, but never enjoy it.
It is better to understand the balance-sheet of one’s own life than of the corn trade.
While the blood is hot you should make your way with vigour to better things.
The state of all who are preoccupied is wretched: the most wretched are those toiling not at their own preoccupations, but must regulate their sleep by another’s, and their walk by another’s pace, and obey orders in freest of all things.
When you see a man repeatedly wearing the robe of office, or one whose name is often spoken in the Forum, do not envy him: these things are won at the cost of life.
Consolation to Helvia
But every great and overpowering grief must take away the capacity to choose words, since it often stifles the voice itself.
Everlasting misfortune does have one blessing, that it ends up by toughening those whom it constantly afflicts.
It was nature’s intention that there should be no need of great equipment for a good life: every individual can make himself happy.
Prosperity does not elevate the sage and adversity does not depress him. For he has always made the effort to rely as much as possible on himself and to derive all delight from himself.
No man has been shattered by the blows of Fortune unless he was first deceived by her favours.
The man who is not puffed up in good times does not collapse either when they change. His fortitude is already tested and he maintains a mind unconquered in the face of either condition.
Absolutely every type of person has hastened into the city which offers high rewards for both virtues and vices. You will see that most of them have left their own homes and come to a very great and beautiful city, but not their own.
There is a sort of inborn restlessness in the human spirit and an urge to change one’s abode.
For man is endowed with a mind which is changeable and unsettled: nowhere at rest, it darts about and directs its thoughts to all places known and unknown, a wanderer which cannot endure repose and delights chiefly in novelty.
Nothing has stayed where it was born. The human race is always on the move: in so large a world there is every day some change.
Fate has decreed that nothing maintains the same condition forever.
For how little have we lost, when the two finest things of all will accompany us wherever we go, universal nature and our individual virtue. This, I say, was the intention, that only the most worthless of our possessions should come into the power of another.
Whatever is best for a human being lies outside human control: it can be neither given nor taken away.
The world you see, nature’s greatest and most glorious creation, and the human mind which gazes and wonders at it, these are our own everlasting possessions and will remain with us as long as we ourselves remain.
The body’s needs are few: it wants to be free from cold, to banish hunger and thirst with nourishment; if we long for anything more we are exerting ourselves to serve our vices, not our needs.
All around food lies ready which nature has distributed in every place; but men pass it by as though blind to it, and they scour every country, cross the seas, and whet their appetite at great expense when at little cost they could satisfy it.
Though you may increase your income and extend your estates, you will never increase the capacity of your bodies.
Nothing satisfies greed, but even a little satisfies nature.
The man who restrains himself within the bounds set by nature will not notice poverty; the man who exceeds these bounds will be pursued by poverty however rich he is.
Life’s necessities are found even in places of exile, superfluities not even in kingdoms.
It is the mind that creates our wealth.
All those things which are revered by minds untaught and enslaved to their bodies are earthly burdens which a soul pure and conscious of its nature cannot love: for it is light and unencumbered, and destined to soar aloft.
If you have the strength to tackle any one aspect of misfortune you can tackle all. When once virtue has toughened the mind it renders it invulnerable on every side.
Reason routs the vices not one by one but all together: the victory is final and complete.
No man is despised by another unless he is first despised by himself.
We are naturally disposed to admire more than anything else the man who shows fortitude in adversity.
For to be afflicted with endless sorrow at the loss of someone very dear is foolish self-indulgence, and to feel none is inhuman callousness.
The best compromise between love and good sense is both to feel longing and to conquer it.
I am leading you to that resource which must be the refuge of all who are flying from Fortune, liberal studies.
Teaching sinks more deeply into those of impressionable years.
On Tranquility of Mind
All virtues are fragile to start with and acquire firmness and strength with time.
Let no one rob me of a single day who is not going to make me an adequate return for such a loss.
Let my mind be fixed on itself, cultivate itself, have no external interest – nothing that seeks the approval of another; let it cherish the tranquillity that has no part in public or private concerns.
The Greeks call steady firmness of mind ‘euthymia’ (Democritus wrote a good treatise about it), but I call it tranquillity,
We are seeking how the mind can follow a smooth and steady course, well disposed to itself, happily regarding its own condition with no interruption to this pleasure, but remaining in a state of peace with no ups and downs: that is tranquillity.
Dissatisfaction with oneself arises from mental instability and from fearful and unfulfilled desires, when men do not dare or do not achieve all they long for, and all they grasp at is hope.
For the human mind is naturally mobile and enjoys activity. Every chance of stimulation and distraction is welcome to it.
We must realize that our difficulty is not the fault of the places but of ourselves.
For even obscure virtue is never concealed but gives visible evidence of herself: anyone worthy of her will follow her tracks.
If we shun all society and, abandoning the human race, live for ourselves alone, this isolation, devoid of any interest, will be followed by a dearth of worthwhile activity.
Often a very old man has no other proof of his long life than his age.
Those who are still armed when they agree terms with their enemies are safer and more highly regarded.
The service of a good citizen is never useless: being heard and seen, he helps by his expression, a nod of his head, a stubborn silence, even his gait.
Virtue spreads her advantages even from a distant hiding place.
He indeed will prove a man who, threatened by dangers on all sides, with arms and chains clattering around him, will neither endanger nor conceal his courage: for self-preservation does not entail suppressing oneself.
The ultimate horror is to leave the number of the living before you die.
We must appraise the actual things we are attempting and match our strength to what we are going to undertake. For the performer must always be stronger than his task.
You must set your hands to tasks which you can finish or at least hope to finish, and avoid those which get bigger as you proceed and do not cease where you had intended.
We must be especially careful in choosing people, and deciding whether they are worth devoting a part of our lives to them, whether the sacrifice of our time makes a difference to them.
Inborn dispositions do not respond well to compulsion, and we labour in vain against nature’s opposition.
But nothing delights the mind so much as fond and loyal friendship.
Though a man’s loyalty and kindness may not be in doubt, a companion who is agitated and groaning about everything is an enemy to peace of mind.
Private possessions, the greatest source of human misery.
If you compare all the other things from which we suffer, deaths, illnesses, fears, desires, endurance of pains and toils, with the evils which money brings us, the latter will far outweigh the others.
How much happier is the man who owes nothing to anybody except the one he can most easily refuse, himself! But since we have not such strength of will, we must at least curtail our possessions, so we may be less exposed to the blows of Fortune.
The ideal amount of money is that which neither falls within the range of poverty nor far exceeds it. We shall be satisfied with this limit if we previously practised thrift, without which no amount of wealth is enough.
Even in our studies, where expenditure is most worth while, its justification depends on its moderation.
What is the point of having countless books and libraries whose titles the owner could scarcely read through in his whole lifetime?
Excess in any sphere is reprehensible.
In any situation in life you will find delights and relaxations and pleasures if you are prepared to make light of your troubles and not let them distress you.
We are all held in the same captivity, and those who have bound others are themselves in bonds – unless you think perhaps that the left-hand chain is lighter.
One man is bound by high office, another by wealth; good birth weighs down some, and a humble origin others; some bow under the rule of other men and some under their own: all life is a servitude.
No condition is so bitter that a stable mind cannot find some consolation in it.
Abandoning those things which are impossible or difficult to attain, let us pursue what is readily available and entices our hopes, yet recognize that all are equally trivial, outwardly varied in appearance but uniformly futile within.
Let us not envy those who stand higher than we do: what look like towering heights are precipices.
Those whom an unfair fate has put in a critical condition will be safer for lowering their pride in things that are in themselves proud and reducing their fortune as far as they can to a humble level.
There are many who are forced to cling to their pinnacle because they cannot descend without falling; but they must bear witness that this in itself is their greatest burden. That they are not so much elevated as impaled.
The wise man does not have to walk nervously or cautiously, for he has such self-confidence that he does not hesitate to make a stand against Fortune and will never give ground to her.
The wise man has no reason to fear Fortune, since he regards as held on sufferance not only his goods and possessions and status, but even his body, his eyes and hand, and all that makes life more dear, and his very self.
The wise man lives as though he were lent to himself and bound to return the loan on demand without complaint.
We must first strip off the value we set on this thing and reckon the breath of life as something cheap.
To quote Cicero, we hate gladiators if they are keen to save their life by any means; we favour them if they openly show contempt for it.
He who fears death will never do anything worthy of a living man.
‘What can happen to one can happen to all.’ If you let this idea sink into your vitals, and regard all the ills of other people as having a clear path to you too, you will be armed long before you are attacked.
It is too late for the mind to equip itself to endure dangers once they are already there.
‘I didn’t think it would happen’ and ‘Would you ever have believed it would turn out so?’ Know, then, that every condition can change, and whatever happens to anyone can happen to you too.
In all this topsy-turvy succession of events, unless you regard anything that can happen as bound to happen you give adversity a power over you which the man who sees it first can crush.
Let our labour not be in vain and without result, nor the result unworthy of our labour; for usually bitterness follows if either we do not succeed or we are ashamed of succeeding.
It is not industry that makes men restless, but false impressions of things drive them mad.
So let all your activity be directed to some object, let it have some end in view.
Democritus had this in mind when he began:
‘Anyone who wishes to live a quiet life should not engage in many activities either privately or publicly’ – meaning, of course, useless ones.
When no binding duty summons us we must restrain our actions.
The mind can cope more easily with the distress arising from disappointed longings if you have not promised it certain success.
We should also make ourselves flexible, so that we do not pin our hopes too much on our set plans, and can move over to those things to which chance has brought us, without dreading a change in either our purpose or our condition.
The mind must not feel losses and should take a kindly view even of misfortunes.
When a shipwreck was reported and he heard that all his possessions had sunk, our founder Zeno said, ‘Fortune bids me be a less encumbered philosopher.’
We must therefore school ourselves to regard all commonly held vices as not hateful but ridiculous.
We should make light of all things and endure them with tolerance: it is more civilized to make fun of life than to bewail it.
It is the mark of a greater mind not to restrain laughter than not to restrain tears, since laughter expresses the gentlest of our feelings, and reckons that nothing is great or serious or even wretched in all the trappings of our existence.
To be tormented by other people’s troubles means perpetual misery, while to take delight in them is an inhuman pleasure.
In your own troubles too, the appropriate conduct is to indulge as much grief as nature, not custom, demands.
Nor can we ever be carefree when we think that whenever we are observed we are appraised.
Solitude and joining a crowd must be mingled: the one will make us long for people and the other for ourselves, and each will be a remedy for the other; solitude will cure our distaste for a crowd, and a crowd will cure our boredom with solitude.
The mind should not be kept continuously at the same pitch of concentration, but given amusing diversions.
Our minds must relax: they will rise better and keener after a rest.
Constant effort will sap our mental vigour, while a short period of rest and relaxation will restore our powers. Unremitting effort leads to a kind of mental dullness and lethargy.
Sleep too is essential as a restorative, but if you prolong it constantly day and night it will be death.
We must indulge the mind and from time to time allow it the leisure which is its food and strength. We must go for walks out of doors, so that the mind can be strengthened and invigorated by a clear sky and plenty of fresh air.
So here you have, my dear Serenus, the means of preserving your tranquillity, the means of restoring it, and the means of resisting the faults that creep up on you unawares.
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