premeditatio malorum
Over the years, my wife and I have found ourselves asking, “Why are we like this?” To varying degrees, we both want things to stay new or as close to perfect for as long as possible. Once upon a time, we’d return new items for slight imperfections that nobody other than us would notice. It’s gotten better. We remind ourselves that our possessions are meant to be used. Our home is meant to be lived in. Our offroad vehicles are meant to get up close and personal with trees and rocks.
Instead of asking why we’re so particular, we’ve transitioned to saying, “The cup is already broken.” I’m not sure where I first learned of the phrase, but here’s a a version of the story it’s derived from:
“Do you see this cup?” he asked us. “I love this cup. It holds the water admirably. When the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring. Yet for me, this cup is already broken. When the wind knocks it over or my elbow knocks it off the shelf and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ But when I understand that this cup is already broken, every minute with it is precious.”
It feels a bit like the stoic idea of premeditatio malorum, mentally preparing for potential for negative things to happen. Seneca wrote that the unexpected blow lands the heaviest, that “strangeness adds to the weight of calamities, and every mortal feels greater pain as a result of that which also brings surprise.” But we’re not even talking about things that are all that important. It’s just stuff.
I’m sure the stoics would go a step further and redirect their focus to the idea of feeling attached to things altogether. There’s a story where Epictetus witnessed his prized, iron lamp being stolen. He was upset for a moment, then got curious to understand what might have caused the initial feeling. Of course, it was attachment was at the root of the response. He replaced the iron lamp with one made of clay, something he would not feel attached to. In the end, he believed the thief suffered a greater loss, the corruption of their character.
Both lessons feel relevant.
First, it’s just stuff.
Second, it’s already broken.