Category Archives: Books

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.

 

Radical Freedom/ Freedom from Striving

 

Daniel Klein in his book Travels with Epicurus describes the fulfilled old man as the man who is free from vacillations and like the Zen Buddhists who are free from “the emptiness of striving.” That is what radical freedom is—i.e., freedom from striving. The reason old age is so good is because by then, hopefully, one has achieved the fulfilled life and the striving is over and the enjoyment is all. One should be living rather than striving. If one has not started living, one must start before its too late.

 

Marcus Aurelius was a 2nd century CE Roman Emperor and also a philosopher.  Like Epicurus he was a Stoic who wrote a book called Meditations, which he wrote for himself, since he said he did not write to get favorable opinions from others.  According to the Stoics, virtue is good and only vice is bad. The things which most of us strive for are really indifferent to our happiness because our lives are not made good or bad by our having or lacking them. That is why things are not important. Living is important.

 

Marcus Aurelius was a bit like Epicurus.  This is what Aurelius said, “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”  Henry David Thoreau had similar views.  He said that he did not want to come to the end of his life to find out that he had not lived at all. To both that was the point. Living life well. Not by striving; by living.  Thoreau also said this:

“Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance and mistake,  are so occupied with the fractious cares and superfluous coarse labors of life that is finer fruits cannot be plucked by them.”

 

In a word, too many of us allow striving to interfere with living. Instead we should be content.

 

Of course, in the modern world in particular commercial interests are expert at creating desires for things which will not satisfy us, but will satisfy them!  They will have their desires satisfied by our striving not us. We will never be content by trying to satisfying desires.

 

This is how Daniel Klein described the contented life of Epicurus:

“Epicurus may have predated Madison Avenue by a few millennia, but he already detected the commercial world’s uncanny ability to make us think we need stuff we don’t—and as the world of commerce keeps chugging along, to need ever newer  stuff. But when shopping for the latest thing—usually something we do not really need–Epicurus’s all-important life of tranquil pleasure is nowhere to be found.”

Commercial interests seek to keep us striving for ever more and better and newer stuff, but if we fall for that we will never get off the striving. We will be on a endless spinning cycle that never reaches the goal of contentment. We will never have enough.

 

Epicurus, ever the eloquent Greek put it this way: “Nothing is enough for the man to  whom enough is too little.

Do you know anyone like that?  I know at least one. A famous president. But there are many like that.

This is wisdom. And radical freedom.

Old Age as the Pinnacle of Life

 

Epicurus said something that was deeply surprising to me. He said that “old age is the pinnacle of life.” How is that possible? Isn’t old age the worst of times? How can it be the best of Times?

 

In his classic manuscript the Vatican Sayings, Epicurus made this profound statement:

 

“It is not the young man who should be considered fortunate but the old man who has lived well, because the young man in his prime wanders much by chance, vacillating in his beliefs, while the old man has docked in the harbor, having safeguarded his true happiness.”

 

Typically, the young man has not done much. He has accomplished little.

 

The old man who has lived the fulfilled life has found the safe harbour away from the storm. He is happy and content. When a person is content it is no longer necessary to strive. One is satisfied. That was the life Epicurus wanted.

 

That is philosophy for old men. Of course, it goes without saying, that this philosophy is also perfect for the old woman as much as the old man.  Epicurus believed in the radical equality of men and women. So I could say, just as well, this is a philosophy for old women.

 

Travels with Epicurus: A Philosophy for Old Men

 

Now I am an old man, but in my youth, on my first trip to Europe, many years ago,  we visited very briefly 3 islands near Athens. One of those islands was the marvelous island of Hydra.  I remember overlooking its marvelous harbour from the ship when we disembarked. It was a classic view of a Greek island. I was stunned by the beauty. What more could anyone want?

 

On that small island there were no cars. If you needed transportation you could enlist the help of a burro to get you up the surrounding hills. Leonard Cohen had   lived there with hsi muse, the inspiration for that great song Suzanne.

 

Daniel Klein, another old man, wrote a wonderful little book about a month he spent on the island. He called the book, Travels with Epicurus: A Journey to a Greek Island in search of a Fulfilled Life. I highly recommend it, for everyone, but particularly old men.  It was given to me by one of my old law partners who  shamelessly avoided following the wise counsel offered in the book.

 

Early in the book Klein describes how, Aegean islanders like to tell a joke about a prosperous Green American who visits one of the islands on a vacation.  Out on a walk, the affluent Greek American comes upon an old Gentleman sitting on a rock, sipping a glass of ouzo and lazily staring at the sun setting into the sea. The American notices there are olive trees growing on the hills behind the old Greek but they are untended, with olives just dropping here and there onto the ground. He asks the old m an who the trees belong to.

 

“They’re mine,” the Greek replies.

“Don’t you gather the olives?” the old Greek asks.

“I just pick one when I want one” the old man says.

“But don’t you realize that if you pruned the trees and picked the olives at their peak, you could sell them? In America everybody is crazy about virgin olive oil, and they pay a dammed good price for it.”

“What would I do with the money? the old Greek asks.

“Why, you build yourself a house and hire servants to do everything for you.’

“And then what would I do?”

“You could do anything you want!”

“You mean, like sit outside and sip ouzo at sunset?”

 

I read this short passage to some friends of mine. One of them said, “If it rains I would rather sit inside this wonderful cabin I have built to keep out of the rain, rather than sit on a rock staring at the sun.”  “True,” I said, but you built it when you were young. Now you are old, you should enjoy what you have built. In rain or in sun. You have done the work, so enjoy the fruits of your labour. Stop striving for more. More, like perfection, is often the enemy of the good.

 

This to my mind sums up the Philosophy of the Greek philosopher Epicurus in a neat nutshell. The Old Greek man was content. He didn’t want to do the striving he did as a young man, to earn a living to support his life. He need not do that anymore. He could sit and drink ouzo and stare at the sunset, because that was what he wanted to do. Young men can’t do that; old men can. Young men must strive; old man have done it.

 

Been there. done that.

 

The best Defense is our Mind

 

When the capacity to think is destroyed, as it seems to have done in the United States, we must realize we have entered very dangerous waters filled with dangerous predators and we have no defenses. For example, in the wars of Yugoslavia people were driven by demagogues to attack their former friends and neighbours for the vital goal of ethnic cleansing. Sort of what Trump has done by claiming that illegal immigrants have poisoned the blood of the country.  We must always remember, as Carol Off makes clear in her book At a Loss for Words, that

 

“words are freighted with ideas. They carry meaning but also hide it. They inspire great acts of kindness and incite people to kill. We live in a moment…where we need to pay very close attention to the language around us—and the language we use—because it holds the secrets of what might be coming.”

 

 

We must always remember as Voltaire told us, “If someone can make you believe an absurdity, he can make you commit an atrocity.” If Trump can make you believe that the 2020 election was stolen against all the amazing amount of evidence to the contrary, he probably would be able to persuade you to attack immigrants with your bare hands. That is what might be coming.

 

Similarly, when Trump persuaded his followers that the rioters on January 6th were engaged in a love in, we must understand that his oratory was important. His words were important. As Carol Off explained,

 

“The January 6 insurrection provoked by the oratory of Donald Trump demonstrated the connection between words and actions and revealed the darkest qualities of this threat: that the language that Trump and his supporters shared is coded. Everyone in the crowd knew what the outgoing president meant when he told the mob that they needed to “save America” and “fight like hell,” just like …that Serbian politician meant when he said that Christians and Muslims could no longer share the same space. What we saw in Bosnia during the war, in the UK during Brexit, and in the United States during Trump’s speeches is the power of demagogues to speak to people in the language of fear, uncertainty, and anger using rhetoric to break down our trust in our governments, our societies, and each other. Our only defence is language that’s clear, rational and unambiguous.”[2]

 

I would summarize these thoughts as follows: our only defence is our ability to think critically. If we lose that we are sunk.