Coming Full Circle

As a man hopefully grows in experience and knowledge, he will begin to notice a curious thing.  The knowledge that he continues to acquire, and the sights that he continues to see here and there, subtly redirect him back to where he first departed.  It is almost as if some grand cosmic joke is at work.  Now when I say we return to where we first started, I do not mean that we return as ignorant as when we first left.  We have grown, matured, and become more complete; there is no going back to the old ways and old days.  And yet, as knowledge grows, we begin to long for the places of our youth:  the sights and sounds of our younger days, and the pleasant connections to eras past.  Wisdom reduces all things to their essentials.

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The Art Of Consolation

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There used to exist a literary genre called the consolatio, or consolatory essay.  It is the type of thing that would be written by one person to another on the event of some terrible personal tragedy, such as the loss of a loved one.  Sometimes (e.g., in the case of Boethius) the writer simply wrote it for himself.  The ancient authors recognized it as a form of oratory, but it has been out of fashion for a long time now.

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One Illusion Is Only Worth Another Illusion: The Judgment Of Bocchoris

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Here is a sly and amusing story that I came across in Plutarch this weekend.  We find it in his Life of Demetrius (Ch. 27).  It is short, but effective.

There was an Egyptian pharaoh named Bakenranef, who was known to the Greeks as Bocchoris (names of foreign rulers and notables were often Hellenized by historians).  According to the chronicler Manetho, he ruled Lower Egypt as a king of the Twenty-Fourth Dynasty from 725 to 720 B.C.  According to tradition, he was famous for his wisdom and prudence.

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Success Can Be Fatal

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I was eating today at one of those a kilo places in Rio:  one of those places where the food is purchased by the total weight.  The greater the quantity of food, the greater the price.  It turned out to be an opportunity for reflection on the price not of food, but of achievement.

Where food is concerned, nourishment is measured in quantities, by weight.  But so is life, or mortality, in a way.

For the doctors of medicine assure us that one can die just as readily from overeating, as from under-eating.  Excess is just as much a danger as dearth.  And in the developed world, it is more of a danger.  For few of us will be faced with the prospect of starvation in our lives.  More likely, our challenges will come from the over-abundance of choices, from the temptations of bounty.

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Your Guardian Deity

Plutarch’s essay On Socrates’s Personal Deity (593A-594A) contains an idea that I find appealing.  He proposes that every man has a “personal deity” that looks out for him and helps him in a time of need.

We can think of this deity as a kind of guardian angel.

The personal deity is an experienced attendant-god or demi-god, who is well-versed in the struggles of life.  He now watches over the struggles of mortal man, and every now and then reaches down to help those he believes are deserving of his aid.

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The Fable Of Aridaeus of Soli

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Plutarch’s essay On God’s Slowness to Punish (563C et seq.) relates a vivid fable on the punishments meted out to those to commit evil acts in their lives.  It also relates to us the requirements and possibilities for moral redemption.

The fable takes the form of an out-of-body experience that has much to say about ethics and human responsibility.  But it is parable rich in metaphor and meaning.  Readers can interpret it in a variety of ways.

This is the story.

There was a native of the town of Soli named Aridaeus.  He indulged himself in every type of sensual and mortal passion that he could, and was undeterred by the effects that these pursuits caused to others.  He quickly exhausted his money, and turned to a life of crime.  His sole motivation was profit and gain.

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