Your Mood Is Weather, Not Truth: A Stoic Lesson on Discipline
The weather is a great deal. My grandfather knew it, and he went out and did the work anyway. An essay on moods, Seneca and the quiet discipline of choosing the mind over the mood. Let the thunder speak. You do not have to answer. The storm will pass. Your character will remain. The Weather Inside The weather is a great deal. My grandfather was a farmer. I remember him standing at the edge of a field in the evening, hands in his pockets, saying nothing. He looked at the sky for a long time, the way one looks at a neighbour whose mood decides whether the year will be good or bad. A late frost could take an orchard in one night. A wet August meant a poor harvest, and a poor harvest meant a hard winter. I never heard him curse the sky. He knew it had no opinion of him. In the morning he went out and did the work anyway. I was a child, and I thought he was waiting. Only much later did I understand that he was practising something. He could not command the weather, but he could decide w...
