Background: Lucius Seneca (4 BC – AD 65) was a philosopher, politician, and playwright in the Roman Empire. As a Stoic, he wrote many philosophical works, with his letters encompassing many of them. He was also a tutor to the Roman Emperor Nero, famous for his madness and persecution of Christians. Nero would later find Seneca guilty of treason and force him to kill himself. Seneca’s calmness in the face of his own death is one of his defining characteristics and a famous part of his life.
“Limiting one’s desires actually helps to cure one of fear. ‘Cease to hope…and you will cease to fear.’”
—Lucius Seneca
I used to constantly struggle with anxiety. I was uncertain about many things. I was scared that many things would go wrong. I had fear about the future. I was uncertain about my university applications. I was scared about my exam marks. I had fear about whether my parents would argue when I got home. I found myself in a state of uncertainty, constantly speculating about what the future entailed. I didn’t know whether my future would be “good” or “bad,” and this led to my uncertainty. I hoped for the good and feared the bad.
Upon first encountering this quote in my readings, I was surprised. How would ceasing to hope lead to ceasing my fear? Hope was what helped me cope with the fear. Although I had fear for the future, I also had hope that things would be alright. I let my emotions fall on a game of chance. Either tomorrow would be good and I didn’t need to worry, or tomorrow might be bad and I did need to worry. Not only this, but guessing whether tomorrow would be good or bad led to more worry in itself. I clung to my hope, seeing it as the only thing that would help lead me away from my fear.
I knew that I had to limit my desires to erase fear. But I wanted to keep hope. However, hope is linked with fear. Both fear and hope are speculation about the future—just one is “good” and one is “bad.” I needed to limit my desires, to erase my concept of good and bad. The future isn’t either; it just is. It will happen. It isn’t good or bad; it can’t harm me. When it comes, I’ll deal with it. I’ll confront it, and I’ll come out on the other side. It doesn’t matter whether it’s easy or not. It doesn’t matter whether it “hurts.” It has to come. What’s the point in hope? What’s the point in fear? Both bring uncertainty—just one is glorified and one is not. In order to eliminate one, we must eliminate the other. A prisoner and its warden. Chained together, but only one is free?
Without my misconceptions, without my desires, I was no longer uncertain about the future. I was simply certain that it would happen. That it wouldn’t be hurtful, wouldn’t be harmful—that it just would be. I would let it happen, not fearing or hoping, just knowing.