“What is wisdom? What is moderation? What is courage? What is justice? What is the nature of reality itself? Looking at these questions today, we could just shrug our shoulders and discard them as irrelevant. After all, they seem too abstract and distant from real concerns of our everyday life. Or are they? Two and half millennia ago the Greek philosopher Plato considered answers to these questions vital, if not absolutely necessary, for a happy and fulfilling life, a conviction reflected in his timeless treatise The Republic (paperback | audiobook), where he envisioned a life of ideal society. In today’s post, I would like to draw your attention to one of the most enduring and captivating passages from this book that can serve as a subject for deep contemplation in our meditation practice — the allegory of the cave. In this allegory, we are likened to prisoners sentenced to a lifetime in a dark cave whose walls are full of flickering shadows. Please enjoy this audio performance by an immensely talented William Sigalis as Socrates and Ray Childs as Glaucon.

THE ALLEGORY OF THE CAVE
from The Republic of Plato

Now, Glaucon, let’s think about the ignorance of human beings and their education in the form of an allegory. Imagine them living underground in a kind of cave. The mouth of the cave, which is far above, is as wide as the cave itself and opens to the light outside. These people have been here since childhood. Their legs and necks are chained so that they cannot move. They can see only what is in front of them because the chains are fastened in a way that keeps them from turning their heads. A fire burns at some distance behind them. If you look carefully, you can see a wall between the fire and the prisoners, like a curtain that hides puppeteers showing their puppets.

I can see that.

Can you also see people passing behind the wall, carrying all kinds of objects above their heads so that they show over the wall? They are carrying statues of humans and animals made of wood, stone, and other materials. Some of them are talking, and others are silent.

That’s a strange image, Socrates, and these are strange prisoners.

They are like us. They see only the shadows the light from the fire throws on the wall of the cave in front of them, their own shadows, or those of the objects passing behind the wall. … If the prisoners were able to talk with each other about these shadows, wouldn’t they believe that they were discussing reality?

That’s right. …

So it’s obvious that for these prisoners, the truth would be no more than the shadows of objects.

That seems inevitable.

Now let’s consider how they might be released and cured of their ignorance. Imagine that one man is set free and forced to turn around and walk toward the light. … He would have to get used to seeing the world outside the cave. First, he will recognize the shadows. Then the reflections of people and other objects in the water. And finally, he could see the objects themselves. Then he will gaze at the night sky, still better able to see the light of the moon and the stars than the sunlight of the sun.

That’s probably how it would be.

But at last, he would be able to see the sun in its proper place, rather than its reflection in the water or somewhere else. Then he will be able to consider its true nature.

Yes. …

Glaucon, my friend, you may now connect this allegory with what we were saying before. What we normally see with our eyes can be compared with the prison where the people dwell. And the fire can be related to the power of the sun. Consider the journey out of the cave and seeing the things there to be the ascent of the soul to the realm of what is knowable. This is my belief which I have shared at your request. It would take God to know whether it is right or wrong. But regardless of whether it’s true or false, I believe that in the realm of what is knowable, the idea of the good appears last of all and can be seen only with great effort. Once we see it, we understand it to be the cause of all things that are right and beautiful, the origin and ruler of light in this world, and the ultimate source of truth and reason beyond it. This must be understood by anyone who wishes to act rationally and effectively, either in public or private life.

Complement this particular passage from The Republic of Plato with another incredibly gratifying audio performance by William Sigalis as Socrates on moderation as a harmony that permeates all aspects of the human soul and then revisit Aristotle on virtues as habits.

“There is something funny about the expression ‘self-control,'” exclaimed Socrates in a conversation with Glaucon while contemplating the virtue of moderation. “The one doing the controlling is also the one who is controlled. The master is also mastered.”

What is moderation? Simple on the outside, this perennial question has infinite depth, and it’s up to us how deep we want to dive into finding its true meaning. In the age of smartphones, digital advertising, and invisible tracking systems that know intimate details of our online activities, it becomes harder and harder to resist buying the next new shiny thing or indulge ourselves in this or that service that promises to make our lives evermore easier and lighter. When everything we want is just one button press away, it becomes vital to learn to draw the line, say no, and know when enough is enough. It is precisely at this moment that we could use some timeless wisdom from a famous Roman philosopher Seneca who took up this question in a letter to his friend Lucilius Junior, included in the wholly essential Letters on Ethics.

After greeting his friend and commending him for his continuous effort to better himself through rigorous hard work and sticking to the single task, Seneca writes:

I have a warning for you. There are those who wish to be noticed rather than to make moral progress. Don’t be like them, altering your dress or way of life so as to attract attention. … Within, let us be completely different, but let the face we show to the world be like other people’s. Our clothes should not be fine, but neither should they be filthy; we should not own vessels of silver engraved with gold, but neither should we think that the mere fact that one lacks gold and silver is any indication of a frugal nature. The life we endeavor to live should be better than the general practice, not contrary to it. … The very first thing philosophy promises is fellow feeling, a sense of togetherness among human beings. By becoming different, we will be cut off from this. If we are not careful, the very measures that are meant to win us admiration will instead make us objects of hatred and ridicule.

A hankering after delicacies is a sign of self-indulgence; by the same token, avoidance of those comforts that are quite ordinary and easy to obtain is an indication of insanity. Philosophy demands self-restraint, not self-abnegation — and even self-restraint can comb its hair. The limit I suggest is this: our habits should mingle the ideal with the ordinary in due proportion, our way of life should be one that everyone can admire without finding it unrecognizable.

But, “What do you mean?” Seneca adds right after with righteous indignation. “Are we to act just like other people? Is there to be no difference between us and them?” And then calms himself with another dose of Stoic wisdom:

A very great difference, but a difference that will be evident only on close inspection. A person entering our house should marvel at the inhabitant, not at the dinnerware. One who uses earthenware as if it were silver is indeed a great person; equally great, though, is the one who uses silver as if it were earthenware. Not being able to cope with wealth is an indication of weakness.

Letters on Ethics, a new complete and accessible translation by Margaret Graver and A.A. Long, remains a monolithic work of great wisdom and a kind of book that beckons you to open it again and again. Complement this particular portion with Socrates on moderation as a harmony that permeates all aspects of the human soul and then revisit Aristotle on virtues as habits.

“I discovered a long time ago that writing of the small things of the day, the trivial matters of the heart, the inconsequential but near things of this living,” wrote E. B. White to his brother Stanley White while reflecting on the art of living through writing. “Was the only kind of creative work which I could accomplish with any sincerity or grace.”

This insight reminded me of my own path of growing through the “small things of the day”: greeting each new morning with a smile, being present while making tea, paying attention to my surroundings while taking a walk, being compassionate and kind to everyone I meet. It is indeed little things that help us grow, and make us better one little step at a time.

The importance of growing through tiny leaps of everyday living is what two and a half millennia ago was noted by an ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics, a timeless piece of writing that to this day reminds us of the essential things that constitute a happy and fulfilling life.

Aristotle starts with the definition of moral virtue and goes on to note that it’s not present in us by nature but requires careful cultivation, something we must engage in on a daily basis:

Moral virtue is the result of habit, and so it is that moral virtue got its name [ēthikē] by a slight alteration of the term habit [ethos]. … Stone, because it is borne downward by nature, could not be habituated to be borne upward, not even if someone habituates it by throwing it upward ten thousand times. … Nor could anything else that is naturally one way be habituated to be another. Neither by nature, therefore, nor contrary to nature are the virtues present; they are instead present in us who are of such a nature as to receive them, and who are complete or perfect themselves through habit. … By doing just things we become just; moderate things, moderate; and courageous things, courageous.

But this process can go both ways, Aristotle notes, for the quality of our actions is crucial in determining the qualities cultivated. We must choose carefully, he emplores.

Further, as a result of and on account of the same things, every virtue both comes into being and is corrupted…. As a result of building houses well, people will be good house builders; but as a result of doing so badly, they will be bad ones. … So too in the case of the virtues: by doing things in our interactions with human beings, some of us become just, others unjust; and by doing things in terrifying circumstances and by being habituated to feel fear or confidence, some of us become courageous, others cowards. … Hence we must make our activities be of a certain quality, for the characteristics correspond to the differences among the activities. It makes no small difference, then, whether one is habituated in this or that way straight from childhood but a very great difference — or rather the whole difference.

But once we set ourselves on the right path by cultivating the right virtues, the process will become easier and more rewarding in and of itself. Aristotle writes:

For example, in the case of strength: it comes into being as a result of taking much nourishment and enduring many exertions, and he who is strong would especially be able to do just these things. So too in the case of the virtues, for as a result of abstaining from pleasures, we become moderate; and by so becoming, we are especially able to abstain from them. Similar is the case of courage as well: by being habituated to disdain frightening things and endure them, we become courageous, and by so becoming, we will be especially able to endure frightening things.

Complement this particular portion of Nicomachean Ethics with Socrates on moderation as a harmony that permeates all aspects of the human soul and Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius quotes on presence and wisdom.

“The safest general characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato,” wrote renowned British philosopher Alfred North Whitehead. “I do not mean the systematic scheme of thought which scholars have doubtfully extracted from his writings. I allude to the wealth of general ideas scattered through them.”

To this day, The Republic of Plato (paperback | audiobook) remains a bottomless well of knowledge and wisdom that we can tap into to live a more meaningful life and cultivate the best qualities of our character.

This timeless piece of writing poses everlasting and relevant questions that endure to this day: what is the nature of justice? What kind of community nurtures the finest life for human beings? What is the substance and fate of the soul? How is knowing different from believing?

In the particular excerpt I chose for today, however, I would like to draw your attention to another fundamental question of our life: what is moderation? What is its nature, and how does it manifest in the human soul? Below is an excerpt from one of the best audio productions of Plato’s Republic that dives into the heart of the matter. Performed here by William Sigalis as Socrates and Ray Childs as Glaucon.

SOCRATES ON MODERATION
from The Republic of Plato

Do you think we can find justice without bothering with moderation?

I don’t know how we can do that. And I would hate to bring justice to light and lose sight of moderation. So, please, do me a favor and consider moderation first.

How can I refuse such a request?

Then let’s continue.

At first glance, moderation is more like harmony and proper arrangement than the first two qualities that we have considered.

How so?

As I think of it, moderation is a kind of order and control of various pleasures and desires. It seems to be implied when we say that someone has “self-control,” “is master over oneself,” and similar phrases.

That’s right.

But there is something funny about the expression “self-control.” The one doing the controlling is also the one who is controlled. The master is also mastered.

That does sound strange.

But I think these expressions refer to two different aspects of the human soul. One better, and the other worse. When the better one controls the worse, then we say the person has self-control. This is intended as a form of praise. If the worse aspect, which is far larger than the good one, dominates a person because of poor nurture or bad company, then we censure that person for being immoderate and lacking self-control.

I think that’s a good explanation.

Now, let’s look at the Republic we have created, and you will find an example of such conditions. If the Republic is properly called master of itself, then moderation and self-control are terms that express the rule of the better aspect over the worse.

As I look at it, I find that what you say is true.

Pleasures, desires, and pains are plentiful and diverse in a Republic. Especially in children, women, slaves, and in the majority of so-called free citizens.

That’s easy to see.

But the simple and moderate desires that obey reason and are guided by mind and sound opinion are confined to only a few people. The ones who are best by nature and through education.

That’s true, Socrates.

Glaucon, do you find both of these aspects in your Republic with the common desires of the majority controlled by the wisdom of the few?

I do.

Then, if any Republic can be called a master of pleasures and desires and self-controlled, this one deserves that designation.

Agreed.

And can we call it moderate for the same reason?

Yes.

Also, if there is any Republic, which the rulers and the people who are ruled agree about who should rule, it will be this one.

There’s no doubt about that.

With the citizens in such agreement, where will we find moderation? In the rulers or in those who are ruled?

I suppose we’ll find it in both.

Then, do you see how close we were to the mark when we guessed that moderation is a kind of harmony.

Why do you say that?

Because moderation is unlike courage and wisdom, which are to be found only in one part of the Republic, making it either brave or wise. Moderation extends to the whole running through all the notes of the scale, producing a harmony of all elements: the weaker, the stronger, and the intermediate. And that is true whether you are talking about strength in wisdom, power, numbers, wealth, or any other domain. Therefore, we rightly describe moderation as harmony and agreement about the rule of what is naturally superior over what is inferior, both in republics and in individuals.

I fully agree with you.