Moderation

In his essay, "Of Moderation, " the sixteenth century writer Michel de Montaigne begins by saying:

"As if we had an infectious touch, we, by our manner of handling, corrupt things that in themselves are laudable and good: we may grasp virtue so that it becomes vicious, if we embrace it too stringently and with too violent a desire."

I find this a curious line. After all, if Socrates is right when he says that "Virtue does not come from wealth, but wealth, and every other good thing men have, comes from virtue," is it then possible to pursue a virtuous course so vigorously as to render it unvirtuous?

Experience may offer some clues. When I am hungry for example I find much pleasure in eating, particularly foods for which at the time my pallet craves. If I eat nothing the desire for food typically grows until it is not only unpleasant, but also threatening to life. Yet when my appetite is sated it is plainly torturous to eat more, even food which at another time might inspire pure delight. The same appears true for thirst. While running my first marathon last year I made sure to drink at every aid station, which so happened to appear at the start of every mile. By mile 9 I felt terribly bloated, and could not bring myself to drink another sip. By mile 15 I could no longer continue running, a condition which continued another 2 hours without drinking, after which I felt well enough to race once more. Yet in a training run earlier that summer, during which I became fatigued and had to walk the long way back to the house, I became so thirsty that I could think of little else beyond a glass of pleasantly chilled and exquisitely fresh water.

 As such one might conclude that food and drink--like virtue--are good when delivered in the right form, at the right time, and in the right amount; both scarcity and excess somehow miss the mark of nourishment and happiness, or as Montaigne describes later in his essay, "The archer that shoots over, misses as much as he that falls short, and 'tis equally troublesome to my sight, to look up at a great light, and to look down into a dark abyss."

Yet as plain as the value of moderation seems to be, it is not the easiest way for most of us to act. I do not know why this is, but it is true for many (myself included). Sometimes we eat more than our bodies tell us is required. Sometimes we exercise intensely, despite the pain we feel in our muscles. And sometimes we pursue goals which our rational minds have long ago decided cost more to achieve than the expected benefit to be gained.

I suspect it is also true that, of the many messages, ideologies, and sayings we daily hear, many compel us away from moderation. Growing up, I remember hearing one story about diligent ants and a lazy grasshopper. It went something like this:

Once upon a time there was a colony of diligent ants, and a lone, lazy grasshopper living by a pond. That year summer proved particularly beautiful, and the land was fat with food. The grasshopper revelled in the easy living, and spent his days eating and enjoying the sunshine. On the other hand, the ants spent the summer in back-breaking labor, gathering food, repairing the colony, and generally ignoring the sun and the weather. Their purpose in preparing for winter was singular--relentless you might say--and nothing would distract them from that purpose.

Finally winter did arrive, and the ants settled down to a cozy, comfortable position. The grasshopper, on the other hand, found himself without food, shelter, or warmth of any kind. Now he bemoaned his lack of diligence during the time of plenty, and only survived by asking charity of the ants, who provided him with food and a warm place to sleep. From that winter forward, the grasshopper declared he would too would be diligent when summer came again.

I've long found that story interesting, though also a bit odd. Yes the grasshopper probably would have benefited by working a bit more during the summer, but unlike the ants he enjoyed life in a nice place while he could. And for all their efforts, the ants seemed to miss something about that warm and wonderful summer. That they made out well in the end does not mean they did not lose something too. One wonders if the ants and the grasshopper might have been happier had the former worked a little less and the latter worked a little more. But then who are we to judge how anthropomorphic animals live their lives?

On the other hand, the grasshopper's lazy ways did leave him hungry and cold when the air got cold. Sure, he had a great summer full of plenty and good times, but when winter came he found himself in a bad position. Say what you will about the ants and their hard-nose ways, but at least they were ready and comfortable winter came, and on top of that had enough to spare some for their less-prepared neighbor.

So we see that by observing both sides of the story, advantages and disadvantages can be derived from each. Which is the "better" course would almost certainly depend on your perspective and what you value. Yet since the course followed by the ants and that followed by the grasshopper are extremes in diligence and laziness, it seems possible that a healthy measure of each may result in a mixture of favorable outcomes from each side. One might characterize such a course as "moderate."

It can be difficult to follow such a course, for it requires an appreciation of the advantages and disadvantages derived from various possible actions. We may go this way and enjoy this benefit, or go that way and enjoy another. Sometimes we wish we could go one way and enjoy the full benefits of the other possibilities, yet most of the time this does not seem feasible. Instead it would seem we must judge how much of one good we are willing to give up in order to enjoy some portion of another good, such that we may end up enjoying many small pleasures, but rarely anything grandiose or transcendent; or to put it like an old music teacher once put it to me, "You'll only get good at music by committing to that, and maybe one another thing. But if you do music, sports, and say schoolwork, the most likely outcome is you'll be mediocre at everything, and great at nothing." This was curious advice, and it took many years before I began to see how a plethora of commitments can leave a person spread thin.I think it is something to remember perhaps as we figure out what exactly we want to do with the life we've been given.

So it seems we have a rather muddled conclusion, perhaps best encapsulated in the old saying "All things in moderation...including moderation." Something to think about maybe.

Happy Sunday, friends :)



p.s. Happy Birthday to my friend, DK