In the first week of my first year of law school, the school hosted a career panel. On it were people representing academia, corporate law, public service, and more. The idea was to give us an idea of where our studies could take us.
Perhaps like many others, I arrived at law school not really knowing what being a lawyer entailed. No one in my family was a lawyer, and so my conception of the profession was fed largely by books, TV, and movies. Needless to say, those sources didn’t provide the most accurate depiction of what the job looks like day-to-day.
As helpful as the panel was for me personally in better understanding the various potential career paths open to me after graduation, what stuck with me the most, and what still sticks with me, was a comment made by one of the people who had gone into public service.
“Many of you here tonight,” he began, “came to law school with lofty ideals and ambitions of the good work and good deeds you will do.”
There were more than a few nods.
“Many of you are also now coming to terms with the debt burden you will carry after graduation,” he continued.
Even more nods now.
“Most of you might already be telling yourself that you will go to the “dark side” and do high paying corporate work for a few years so you can pay off that debt.”
He looked around and even I could see more than a few sheepish looks of being found out.
“That can actually work,” he went on. “It’s possible to go from high paying corporate to the much less remunerative public sector.”
There was more hope in the audience.
“But,” and this is where the other shoe dropped, “if you are really going to do it, if you are really going to be able to walk away from the higher pay, then from the very first day you will need to live like you are on that lower salary you will end up with.”
“The thing is,” he shared, “when you put on that expensive suit, it feels better. When you taste that expensive bottle of wine, it tastes better. When you sit in Business Class on a long-haul flight or stay in a five-star resort, it is nicer. There are reasons people pay more for these things.
“If you grow accustomed to them, there is almost no chance you will take that step back financially when the time comes. It will just feel too painful.”
Gloom had now overtaken the audience once more.
“But if you never get used to them, if you never build a life that includes them, you won’t miss anything when you go down to that lower salary. If you start from the beginning where you know you will be, know you want to be at the end, you never have to go backwards. I am not saying it can’t be done, I am just saying in my decades of experience, I have found the latter path infinitely more successful in leading people to doing the work they truly want to do with their lives.”
All of this I listened to well before I became acquainted with Stoic philosophy. However, the timeless wisdom of the panelist really hit home for me when I read the following from Epictetus: “If you wish to be rich, do not add to your store of money but subtract from your desires.” Then I learned the other side of the equation reading Seneca: “It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.”
As with so much else, the Stoics said it thousands of years earlier, and far more succinctly. The person who goes into public service is not and never was “poor.” It is only the person is in public service who constantly craves “more” who feels poor. The panelist knew and had seen over and over that these cravings are far easier to satiate if we never develop a taste for them, or perhaps even an awareness of them in the first place.
We can be rich, we can be fulfilled not when we reach or accumulate some specific thing or quantity of things, but rather at the time when we decide that what we have is already enough.
This is a lesson I must continually remind myself of. We live in a materialist culture. Our measure of success is GDP growth: how much more can we produce and consume? We are inundated with advertisements scientifically designed to trigger cravings for things we would not otherwise even know about or care about. Knowing the innate truth behind the Stoics’ words is one thing. Living that same truth, for me at least, is more difficult.
This is why as I sit and meditate in the morning, especially when Talulla wakes up early and comes and sits in my lap as I do so, I remind myself that no matter what amount of money is in my bank account, or whatever else I get or achieve, this is exactly what I would choose to do. I don’t need or want any more. In that moment, I have everything.
The same is true when I am swimming. For that activity all I need is a basic pair of goggles and an old swimsuit. As I swim, I remind myself that this is what I would choose to do, would want to do, regardless of any additions to my store of money. There is nothing more I crave.
None of this is “natural” for me. None of it is easy. I believe the same was true even for Epictetus and Seneca. There is a reason they had to call this out. Our default is to crave more. In our attention economy, where well-funded companies are working hard to make sure we constantly crave more, what we face is even more daunting than what they had to deal with. However, even if the specifics of the challenges may have changed, the remedy remains the same. Better understanding our human nature gives us the ability to override it when our natural tendencies are no longer serving us.
It likely won’t ever be easy, but it is certainly the surest path to “riches” for all of us.