All posts by meanderer007

What do Epicurus, Henry David Thoreau, Daniel Klein and my mother have in common?

Daniel Klein the author of the book Travels with Epicurus, drew a lot of inspiration for that book from his reading of the ancient Greek philosopher, Epicurus. There was another brilliant thinker who also found inspiration there. This was the American thinker Henry David Thoreau.  I would say they were all kindred spirits.

Both men were profoundly content.

When I read Klein’s book, I was reminded of Henry David Thoreau, one of my heroes.  Thoreau lived simply in a plain cabin by a small lake, called Walden Pond. One day a friend arrived and offered him a floor mat.  Thoreau declined, feeling that the acquisition would not really enhance his life and would just create more useless work. He would have to pound it from time to time to get rid of dirt and dust. Not a big job, but an unnecessary one. What good would that do him?  He found no need for it. Therefore, he did not want it and declined the gift from a friend.

 

I remember my mother’s small senior’s apartment she moved into after my father was admitted into a personal care home.  In it she had a plaque which  read, “This is all I have, so it is all I need.”  She was making do with less by deliberate choice. She was nervous about her choice. I remember when she first moved in she referred to the apartment as her “dollhouse,” but within weeks she was entirely content. She did not need much so she reduced her wants and simplified her life. This made her life more joyful and meaningful. It was less dominated by things she really did not care about. I don’t think she had ever read Thoreau, but she was in her own way, a deep thinker.

 

I think all four of these thinkers had reached a conclusion that they wanted to know how to live the most fulfilling life in their present circumstances. Each of them in their own way worked on their own philosophy of life.  Perhaps Henry David Thoreau spoke for all of them when he said, “for my greatest skill has been to want but little.”

Fellowship

 

I know someone. His name shall remain secret. He is an old man who moved to a small town where he knows only 1 other person. The two of them get together from time to time. But often not.  He was invited to meet a group of others living nearby in his neighbourhood. He did not know them. He did not want to meet anyone of them. In fact, he told us, “They are not my kind of people.” He said that even though he knew nothing about them. He declined an opportunity to make new friends. He did not want to have new friends. So now he has no friends in his neighbourhood.  None except the one. I think that is sad.

 

He gave up a chance to get together with new friends.  I figure he lost a lot.  Social scientists have learned that companionship and friendships are the greatest cause of satisfaction in life. Particularly older life, where other pleasures are often diminished. They are also the greatest source of mental health. Good friends usually means good mental health. Though of course, not always.

 

I say each of us can choose to walk our own path. I don’t want to choose paths for others. Yet sometimes I think I see others making a mistake.

 

Daniel Klein went to Greece for the explicitly purpose of studying Epicurus more closely in the country in which he lived. He wrote about it in his book Travels with Epicurus What a great goal. Epicurus an ancient Greek philosopher who never studied social sciences knew this and understood it. Here is what he said: “Of all the things that wisdom provides to help one live one’s entire life in happiness, the greatest by far is possession of friendship.” He wrote that about 2,000 years ago now scientists know he was right. How cool is that?

 

I could not agree more with Epicurus on that point.  I am blessed by the fact that I have a few groups of friends who get together periodically. Some groups every week. Some groups once a month. Some groups once every 3 or 4 months. All groups are very convivial. We laugh and talk. We talk about ideas and nonsense too. We talk about funny things and sad things.  That’s about it. No obligations. No strings attached. All groups are very different from each other mainly with completely different people.  In my old age these groups are among my greatest pleasures.

 

Recently, Christiane, my wife, has decided that we should periodically visit the local Public House. It is a modest place. No food. Only beer and wine. Only two wines are served. One red and one white No more. The beer is crafted in the house. You can sometimes get a mixed cocktail in can. But no ice and no limes (for a gin and tonic a major omission). But what counts is vising with friends. We did not know most of the people who attended regularly, but have got to know some new friends.  It has led to great conversation—a social blessing in other words.

 

This is what Daniel Klein called “the comfort of personal communion.”That expression has a touch of the spiritual to it doesn’t it? I’m good with that. After all, as I keep saying fellow feeling is the basis of all religions, and we should note the word “compassion” which means fellow feeling or empathy, has the same root as “companionship.” These are not accidents.

 

I like the expression fellowship.  It is related to my favorite concept on which I have commented from time to time—namely, fellow feeling. Fellow feeling in my view is the fundamental basis of all morality, the best of politics, and all art. Nothing is more important than fellow feeling.

I am blessed. We are blessed. And we are happy.

Greek Civilization

 

Some people think civilization was invented by the Greeks. I am not sure that is true, but they sure learned to practice it. Daniel Klein had come to Greece to figure out how best to live out his life in his old age. He thought he was in the right place and wrote about it in his wonderful book Travels with Epicurus. That book inspired me to meander off on all kinds of tangents some of which I have been blogging about. I too went to Greece many years ago in 1989.

 

Klein told a story about he and his wife getting on a train in Greece falling asleep quickly, and learning to their dismay when they woke up that they were going the wrong direction. They took the train going east when they wanted to go west. A pretty big mistake. What could he do about it?

 

He went to tell the conductor about his misery, but it seemed the conductor was ignoring the problem and kept pestering him about people he might know back in the USA.  Then all of a sudden, his train stopped and he noticed a train going in the opposite direction that also had come to a stop by an apricot grove.  People had disembarked the train and were enjoying the apricots and sun and were telling each other stories and just plain enjoying life.

 

Then he realized that this other train had stopped only for Klein and his wife. Someone had signalled them about Klein’s problem and stopped the train to help them out. No one on the other train that the Kleins got onto complained about the unscheduled stop. In fact, they just enjoyed it. They smoked, talked, and ate apricots. It was all good. They all had time to help someone out. No one was fussed. It was not big deal. They were content.

Then Klein later recalling the episode said that he knew “I had come to the right part of the world to meditate on the best way to live my old age.”[1] These people knew how to deal with small problems of life. He had come to civilization. Greek civilization.

Klein also said, by all accounts

 

“this was a civilization that liked to talk and made the time to do so.  Later forms of communication, like the frequently one-way media of our era, did not offer competition to daily dialogue…These people were talking about ideas.”

 

Imagine that people talking about ideas. Not the latest political news. They talked about ideas. And enjoyed it with apricots, and sunlight.

 

Kleins also mentioned something we had learned about when we went to Greece so many decades ago.  It was something about ancient Greeks. They loved to attend plays—dramas, often of a philosophical nature. As Klein said,

 

“Attending a performance at the Dionysus amphitheatre was often an all- day affair in which the audience was cast in the role of a jury that deliberated on which character’s actions and viewpoints was most worthy. After-theatre discussions about justice, proper conduct, and human frailties could get hot and heavy. These people were talking about ideas.

 

Imagine that. Taking the time out of a busy day to talk about ideas. That is civilized.

 

As Klein said, “This, in the end, is the prime purpose of a philosophy: to give us lucid ways to think about the world and how to live in it.” Yes, Klein had come to the right place.

 

It was the place where great philosophers were born, like Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, and Epicurus. This was a place of great civilization.

 

 

Whisper words of Wisdom; Let it Be

 

One of my favorite fictional series of books was that created by John D. MacDonald. Each book in the series had a named color in the title. The series revolved around Travis McGee who lived on a houseboat in Fort Lauderdale and worked irregularly, as sort of a detective. His job really was helping women—usually beautiful women—in distress. Not a bad job if you can get it. He always claimed he was taking his retirement in instalments. He didn’t want to wait until he was old to retire. He couldn’t wait that long.

 

Daniel Klein, in his book Travels with Epicurus, was sitting one day on the terrace again on his favorite Greek Island, Hydra, drinking in the sun, enjoying the day deeply, when, much to his surprise he met an old classmate from Harvard. Both men were surprised to see each other. The Harvard man stepped off a yacht. Klein look dishevelled. He had not cut his hair since he arrived there about half a year earlier. When the Harvard friend asked him what the hell he was doing there, Klein explained, “I’m taking my retirement early while I can still enjoy it.” But Klein did not stay more than a year. Shortly after that, he had enough and returned home. He had no regrets. He enjoyed it immensely while he was there and then returned home. He was content.

 

I had a good friend Eugene Reimer. He was the best man at my wedding and he was a bit like Travis McGee. I know he enjoyed those books like I did. But unlike me, Eugene took that philosophy to heart. He was one of the original computer guys and found it very easy to find work.  At about age 40 he decided he had been working too hard. Those who knew him laughed at that suggestion. He never worked hard.  At least not for long.  When he actually worked he ‘gave ‘er’ But he decided that from now on, as soon as he made enough money for the year he would quit for the rest of the year. I remember one time inviting him over to our house in early December and he said he had just quit work for the year. I remarked, “You sure worked a lot this year.”  He replied, “well I just started November 1.” Each year when he made enough, he quit. Why work more? He was content. That year he worked less than 2 months.

 

I often admitted to him how jealous I was and he reminded me that I could do that too. The only difference he said was the he lived simply. I always thought I did that. I have lived in the same house for more than 50 years. His needs and desires were modest. In his house he still used the same sofa he had bought from the Salvation Army when he and I lived together as poor university students. And it still had the same spring sticking out that would grab you by the ass if you sat down on it.  It was good enough. Especially since he never had to sit in it. Only his hapless visitors like I got the dubious pleasure of sitting on the couch.  His only decorative item in the house  was a cheap pair of spectacles hanging on a nail on the wall of his living room. I never knew why. It seemed to be his only concession to ornamentation.

 

Eugene never bragged about it or got preachy about it; he just lived a simple life. And he enjoyed the rewards of a simple life, more time—a lot more time—to do the things he really liked and largely avoided doing the things he didn’t like.

 

Eugene was lucky for he died pretty young. That may sound odd. He was lucky in the sense that he did enjoy annual interim retirements. He was also lucky, because if he had waited to retire at age 65 he would never have retired at all. And he did fully retired at about 45. So actually, he wasn’t lucky. He was smart. He was probably the smartest guy I ever knew. And he retired young and enjoyed every moment of it. He knew how to live. Like Epicurus. Adn Travis McGee. Be content.

 

Eugene liked the philosophy of Travis McGee, and he lived it. Daniel Klein got his advice from Epicurus, but both might have got it from the Beatles, who said, “Whisper Words of Wisdom, let it be.”  What could be wiser than that? Too many of us waste our lives by striving forever. They can’t stop.  What a pity.

 

The Prison of Everyday Life

Life can imprison us. That is fact that young men and young women often fail to understand. They spend their entire lives relentlessly looking for that which they don’t have, but they think they need. As Bob Dylan said, “Don’t go mistaking paradise for that home across the road.” It isn’t paradise. In fact, it might be a prison for it will forever chain us to the responsibility of maintenance.

 

Henry David Thoreau when he was living on Walden Pond was offered a gift of a small door mat. He declined because he felt if he accepted he would have to clean it regularly and he felt that was too much trouble, so it was not worth the price.

 

Routine can also imprison us. We often do things just because we think we have to do them. But we don’t. Often, we are as free as a bird on a wire. But we don’t know it. Then we are imprisoned by routine. Then we must bolt for freedom. In the act of rebelling, we will understand we are free. Until then we are in jail. Daniel Klein in h is book Travels with Epicurus called it “radical existential freedom” and said it “is absolutely necessary for a happy life.”  I agree.

 

Epicurus was wise, for he said, “We must free ourselves from the prison of everyday affairs and politics.” I do not mean to say we should pay no attention at all to politics. We must recognize injustice and unkindness and speak up against it. If we don’t we facilitate injustice and thus contribute to the decay of society. We are then partly to blame. I am not saying we should follow the lead of the uber woke either. I am in favour of woke, which I see as awareness, but too much can be sickening. Like a basketball player who dribbles too much.

 

The key, I think is that we should not let politics dominate our lives.

 

The End of the Day

 

Many years ago, when my lads were young, we were travelling in Newfoundland for 2 weeks and stayed in a tiny motel in the tiny town of Cox’s Cove, at the far western edge of the town, which was right against the west coast of the province. It was a Friday night and people were coming home from work or going on a drive. I noticed a number of cars stopped at the end of the road, facing the oceans, and stopped for a few minutes. Then another car would come and do the same thing and then another and another. What was going on? I had to know

 

So finally, I buckled up enough courage and walked up to a stranger in a car parked at the extreme western edge of Newfoundland  and I asked him and his companion why everyone was doing that. Why were they coming to the edge of town on a Friday night to do that? “What were they doing?” I asked.  “We come to see the sunset,” the driver replied.  I was dumbstruck. They all came on a Friday night to see the sunset!  Didn’t they have anything better to do?  No. That was the point.

 

Wow. I thought about it. What a spectacular thing to do.

 

That is what I wanted to do. That might be the day I became an official inspector of sunsets. A life-long job.

 

Daniel Klein in his fabulous book Travels with Epicurus: A Journey to a Greek Island in Search of Fulfilment wrote about the friends around a table at the taverna on the Greek island of Hydra.  He was watching them from a nearby seat. They were sitting on the terrace in the Greek sun. Tucked behind the ear of one of the men was sprig of wild lavender that it took him considerable effort to pick up. He had to stoop to do it. He was an old man. Some things are hard for old men. During lulls in the conversation of the men, he removed the herb and took a few sniffs of it. Clearly enjoying the smell.

 

Klein was reading Epicurus on his trip to a lovely Greek Island, Hydra. He had come from America to Greece with that book in mind. It was an essential book for the trip. He was listening to the men at the table. They had a gentle conversation interspersed, from time to time, by a gaze out to the Peloponnesian Straits.  I have been on the island of Hydra, many years ago. It is a small island with a small village at the harbour. No cars are allowed. There are no roads. I was struck by the loveliness of the place so many years ago.

 

Hydra was a great place to look at sunsets. And have conversations. Like Cox’s Cove.

 

A philosophy of life

 

In his book Travels with Epicurus: a Journey to a Greek Island in Search of a Fulfilled Life, Daniel Klein  really offered us a philsophy of life based on his reading of the ancient Greek Philosopher Epicurus, and his short life on the island of Hydra, Greece.

As Klein said, he wanted to “Figure the most satisfying way to live this stage of my life.” He didn’t want to theorize about it. He wanted to do it. He wanted to live that life. This was a philosophy of life.

 

When a man—particularly an old man—chooses radical freedom from everyday life and politics he is truly free. Such a man is able “to scale down and taste the sweetness of this freedom.” That is a life worthy living. Why strive for more? What more do you need?

Klein explained this choice of an Epicurean life in old age this way:

“Freed from ‘the prison of everyday affairs and politics,’ an old man needs only to answer to himself. He does not need to stick to a strict schedule or compromise his whims to sustain his life. He can, for example, sit for hours on end in the company of his friends, occasionally pausing to sniff the fragrance of a sprig of wild lavender.”

 

Like the old friends gathering in a garden. Wanting nothing else.

 

Old men can do that. Or old women. It  is more difficult for young men or young women  who are compelled to network, gain recognition, or tips for earning money. The convivial friendship of old men sitting around a small table in a garden is enough. That is the key. Recognizing when is enough. That takes real wisdom. Experience can help.

 

As Klein said,

“For an old man with the world of “everyday affairs and politics” behind him, this kind of camaraderie is the greatest gift that rarely, if ever, is fully available to the forever youngsters still immersed in their careers.”

It is a gift that is available to each of us. But we can’t give in to distractions or we won’t find it. We won’t find it we stay inside the prisons of our own choosing.

 

Radical Contentment

 

When he wrote the book Travels with Epicurus, Daniel Klein was already an old man who wanted to “figure out the most satisfying way to live this stage of my life.”  He did not want to figure how a young man should live. It was too late for that.  The young man was no more. Klein wanted a philosophy that could be lived. I have always called that existentialism. Living philosophy. The young man was gone and beyond help, but he could help his old self. That old man wanted to live the best life in the time he had left. That would be as close to a fulfilled life as he could get. That is the philosophy he sought. A living philosophy for the old man who was living now.

 

Epicurus wanted to answer the fundamental question: ‘How does one make the most of one’s life?” Epicurus had thought deeply about this question. He concluded the best possible life one could live was a happy life or a life filled with pleasure. That does not necessarily mean he sought a sensual life, a life that some wrongly call Epicurean. That was not the life he sought. Pleasure for Epicurus was just the starting point. Often other pleasures are more satisfying than sensual pleasures which frankly are often fleeting and not deeply satisfying.  Epicureans were not “wanton hedonists” as their reputation would suggest. As Klein said, he was not looking for “a life of dazzling sensory excitement.”

 

In fact Epicurus much preferred the life of ideas.  Learning more was what he found fulfilling. That is what I have tried to do in my retirement. Learn more, without striving. Just do it and enjoy it.

 

 

According to Klein “The old folks of Hydra have always struck me as uncommonly content with their stage of life.” He wanted to be content with his own stage of life.

He wanted to be like those old men sitting on the patio or in the Taverna enjoying life in the here and now.

 

Klein thought the ancient Greek philosophers, who were famous for their wisdom, might help him to achieve wisdom too, particularly if he sought their help in their own homeland where their ideas had germinated. As Klein said, “The prospect of reading the ancient Greek philosophers while surrounded by the rocky, sunlit landscape where their ideas first flourished feels just right to me.” So he packed his bag with books, many of them books of the ancient Greek philosophers and set out for the lovely island of Hydra where he might find out how to live a fulfilled life at age 72.

 

Epicurus sought the life that was free from striving. A life of satisfied contentment.  He wanted a fulfilled life. I call that radical contentment.