On the Shortness of Life, Part I
Almost 2,000 years ago, a Roman philosopher named Seneca the Younger wrote a highly-influential letter to his father-in-law, a state official named Paulinas. Seneca was urging his father-in-law to retire from his position as a public servant to enjoy more of his time.
What influence the letter had on Paulinus is unknown, but the letter has had a large influence on many others in the 2,000 years since.
In the letter, Seneca argues that life feels short to many people because they make poor use of their time. Seneca argues that if we spend more time appreciating the present moment and cherishing time afforded to us, we will find that life is quite long. It’s a universal message, and it maintains its resonance two millennia later.
Rather than reprint a translation, we felt it would be more useful to adapt it for modern readers. We started with a translation in the public domain (a 1932 translation by John W. Basore) and rewrote the sections that we felt were unwieldy or anachronistic. History purists might hate that we did this, but we care more about sharing great ideas than accurate translations. The end result, we hope is an adaptation from which people today can benefit.
Most humans complain about the spitefulness of Nature, because we live for a brief span of time, and because our time rushes by so rapidly and swiftly that all of us, with a few exceptions, find life is at an end just as we are getting ready to live. It's not just the common herds and unthinking crowds that bemoan what they see as a universal ill; the same complaint has come from those who were distinguished. It was this that led the greatest doctor, Hippocrates, to claim that "life is short, art is long." Even Aristotle, in an indictment unbecoming of a wise man such as he, remonstrated Nature for favoring animals by giving them lives five or ten times those of humans, and giving humans much shorter lives, even though humans are born to a great destiny.
It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste much of it. Life is long enough, and we have been given a sufficiently generous amount to accomplish the greatest things if we invest the whole of it well. But when life is squandered in luxury and carelessness, when it is devoted to no good end, when we are at last at the necessity of death, we see that it has passed away before we were aware that it was passing. So it is: the life we receive isn't short, but we make it so; we do not have any lack of life, but we are wasteful of it. Just as a great wealth is lost the moment it comes into a bad owner and a modest wealth increases with the management of a good guardian, so too is life amply long for those who order it properly.
Why do we complain about Nature? She is kindly. Life is long if you know how to use it. Nevertheless, one person is possessed by an insatiable greed, another by a tedious devotion to useless tasks. One person is drunk on alcohol, another paralyzed by laziness. One person is exhausted by an ambition that depends on the decisions of others. Another person, driven by the greed of trading, travels over all lands and across all seas seeking profit. Some are tormented by a passion for war, always intent on inflicting damage on others or concerned with danger to themselves. Some are worn out by their voluntary servitude in thanklessly attending to the great. Many are kept busy in the pursuit of other people's fortunes or in complaining about their own. Many, following no goals, are led by their own fickleness to chase perpetually-changing plans; never constant, ever shifting, and always dissatisfied. Some have no principles by which to direct their course, but death takes them unawares while they yawn - so predictably does this happen that I cannot doubt the truth spoken by a great poet and delivered with the appearance of an oracle: "The part of life we really live is very small." The rest of it is not life, but merely time.
Vices surround and torment us, and they prevent us from rising up and lifting our eyes to discern the truth; instead they overwhelm us and keep us down and control us. The victims of vices are never allowed to be their true selves; if they ever escape and find tranquility, they will continue to toss about, just as the waters of the deep sea will continue to heave after a storm passes, and they will never rest from their cravings. Do you think I am speaking of the wretched whose evil is known to all? Look at those who people follow to get a view of their prosperity; they are smothered by their blessings. To how many people are riches a burden! How many will hurt themselves in their strained efforts to speak and show off their abilities! How many are pale from constant pleasures! How many have lost their freedom to the clients and customers that surround them! In short, run through the list of all people. From, the lowest to the highest - this person needs an advisor, this person answers their call, that one is on trial, that one defends him, that one gives the sentence. No one asserts their claim to themselves, everyone is wasted for the sake of another. Ask about all the famous people whose names are known by heart, and you will see that they are identified as so: A brought up B and B brought up C; but no one their own master.
Certain people show a stupid indignation -- they complain of the self-importance of their superiors when their superiors are too busy to meet with them. But can you be bold enough to complain about others being self-important and not giving you time when you have no time for yourself? At the very least, no matter who you are, the great will sometimes look toward you, even if their look is rude, they will sometimes listen to you condescendingly or let you be by their side; yet you never see fit to look upon yourself or to listen to yourself. So you have no reason to believe that anyone owes you their attention, considering that when you provided it, you had no wish for another's company, but could not endure your own.
If all the brightest intellects of all time came together to think about this issue, they would be unable to express their wonder at this dimness of the human mind. People will not let anyone take their property, they rush to arms if there is even the slightest dispute about the boundaries of their land, yet they allow others to trespass upon their life — they will even invite people in to take it from them. You will find no person who would be willing to distribute their money, yet to how many do we distribute our life! People are cheap and stingy in an effort to protect their fortunes, yet they are lavish when wasting the one thing they should be conserving.
I would love to converse with an older person and say, “I see you are at the limits of human life. You are nearly at 100 years, or maybe beyond that. Recall your life and make an account of it: How much of your time was taken by creditors? How much with clients and customers? How much in fighting with your partner? How much in rushing about the city, socializing? Add the diseases and ailments you have caused for yourself. Add the time that was idle and unused. You will see you have fewer years to your credit than you can count. Recall, when did you have a fixed plan? How few days passed as you intended? When did you make yourself available for your own use? When did your face wear its natural expression? When was your mind undisturbed? What work have you achieved in so long a life? How many have robbed you of life when you were not aware that life is what you were being robbed of? How much time was taken up in useless sorrow, in foolish joy, in greedy desire, and in the temptations of society? How little of yourself was left to you? You will realize that you are dying too soon!”
Why does this happen? You live as if you were destined to live forever, no thought of your frailty crosses your mind. You don’t notice the time that has already gone by. You waste your time as if you had a full and abundant supply, but all the while, any day that you spend on some other person or thing could be your last. You have the fears of a mortal and the desires of an immortal. You hear people say “After I am 50, I will retire into a life of leisure, after I am 60, I will quit my public duties.” And what guarantee do you have that you will live longer than that? Who is allowing your plan to run its course? Are you not ashamed to reserve for yourself only the remnants of your own life, and to only set aside time for wisdom which you cannot fill with business? How late is it to begin to live just when life is at an end? It is a foolish forgetfulness of mortality to postpone proper plans to our 50th and 60th years, hoping to begin life at an age which few will reach!