Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested.
Seneca, On The Shortness Of Life
The above is one of my favourite lines from Seneca’s On The Shortness Of Life. Not only does it succinctly articulate what his work is about, but it’s an essential reminder that the life we have is absolutely finite and that everything we will ever know is transitory.
Indeed, every human that has ever lived shares the common fate: our end, though we probably don’t know when it will occur, is nonetheless certain. This is something inherently known to most adults, and yet, how is it that we perpetually allow ourselves to be caught up by things that ultimately are of little consequence? Why do we so willingly and readily permit ourselves to be side-tracked from our essential pursuits? And why does our judgement so often fail us as we indulge in vices and their short-term rewards, even though we know with total certainty that these things will ultimately exact an undesirable price?
We respond much like animals do
I am neither qualified in psychology or biology and so cannot speak with any authority about human physiology. I did, however, in a not-so-long-ago previous life, work for a mental health provider where I spent a considerable amount of time researching and writing about mental health.
One thing that I came to realise is that we are not so far removed from animals when it comes to our behaviour. For all our sophistication, our brains and bodies respond to adversity and threats in much the same way as less intelligent creatures do.
When presented with a threat, be it one that’s physical (someone pushes you on public transport) or a perceived threat to the self (a subordinate at the office insults you), it is common to respond with anger or frustration. When overcoming the emotional or even physical pain that ensues from adversity, it is quite common to resort to coping mechanisms like video games or stimulants or unhealthy foods. And when we need to get up and do some undesirable task, we find it easy to put it off and quietly drain away the minutes of our day through our ever-present phones.
Whenever we work to insulate ourselves from emotional distress, we tend to feed the brain’s reward centre.
And yet, unlike animals, we also have this thing we call reason.
Reason allows us to convince ourselves that we actually might have the power to overcome adversity, or at least stay calm and rational in the face of difficulties. Reason is what is behind the patience, restraint and perseverance that is often necessary to improving ourselves. Reason is also the voice in our head that we call a conscience which helps distinguish between that which is just and virtuous, and that which is not. Reason is even (hopefully) the thing that helps use identify when we procrastinate and gleefully find excuses to not Do The Thing.
Unlike animals, we also have an advanced capacity for memory. It transcends everything we do, from the clothes you put on this morning to the routine you followed in the shower to the hand and eye movements you are engaging in at this very moment on your device. None of this would be possible without an effective memory.
We all know that we ought to live fuller lives and focus on that which is more important, yet it is quite common, for people to express deep regrets as they near the end of their lives. It’s one reason why the maxim “life is short” has become everyday parlance. Yet in our day-to-day lives, we still find that a multitude of mundane or trivial reasons often distract us from the “bigger picture”.
Consider the following then: the ultimate prize for the brain’s reward centre must surely be its ability to look back on its life (i.e. a life-time of behaviour captured in memories) and know that, in the end, the life that was led was a fulfilling one.
Indeed: “Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested.”
So why put off Doing The Thing?