The Art of Living Well

I just returned from The Oxford Club’s nine-day Financial Discovery Tour of France.

It was one for the books.

Our group of 50 took a private yacht cruise up the Seine, enjoyed a sumptuous seven-course dinner in the fabulous Jules Verne restaurant in the Eiffel Tower, savored the fruits of Burgundy and Beaujolais, spent a picture-perfect day touring Monte Carlo, and celebrated the end of our trip with a private banquet – accompanied by string quartet – in an eight-centuries-old seaside castle, the Château de la Napoule, near Cannes.

A different kind of highlight for me, however, was a 30-minute talk given by our tour guide, the estimable Fritz Satran, on “The Art of Living Well.”

In addition to being a successful businessman – he is the owner of AESU Travel – Fritz is a true bon vivant. His positive demeanor and dry sense of humor kept our group in high spirits the entire trip.

In his talk, Fritz discussed his view of “La Belle Vie.” He reminded us that it is only when we stop clinging to “things” that we are truly free. (Since you can never have enough of what you don’t really need.) He conceded that we may not always win in life but that winning isn’t everything. And he told us that it is not what we have but what we enjoy that constitutes our abundance.

That last line is from Epicurus (341-270 B.C.), founder of one of the major philosophies of ancient Greece.

Although just a few fragments of his written works remain, Epicurus offered practical insights into human psychology and helped lay the intellectual foundations of individualism, modern science and Western civilization itself.

We use the word epicurean today to describe someone who is unusually fond of eating and drinking and perhaps has luxurious tastes and habits. (Hmm. That would describe Fritz right down to his red Versace shoes.)

But in his school in Athens – called “the Garden” – Epicurus recommended a rational hedonism, one that emphasized the moderation of desires and the cultivation of friendships.

This was Fritz’s real point.

For Epicurus, the purpose of philosophy was not esoteric thoughts or protracted navel-gazing but something more practical: the attainment of a happy, tranquil life.

He cited three requirements:

1. The absence of pain

2. Freedom from fear

3. Close friendships.

Most of us are fortunate enough to be pain-free most of the time. Epicurus said that if we are not suffering physically, we should already be grateful since it is impossible to feel miserable and contented at the same time.

Not all pain is physical, of course. Some of us suffer from mental anguish. Epicurus suggests we can minimize that by reframing our perspective – or changing our behavior. After all, our own shortcomings may be the source of our unhappiness.

Epicurus warned that it is impossible to enjoy a pleasant life without living wisely, honorably and justly. Lapses of character nag at our conscience, costing us the very peace of mind we seek.

His second requirement – freedom from fear – presents a higher bar. Life is full of uncertainties. We cannot change that.

Yet Epicurus believed fear can often be reduced or eliminated through rational thought. Some of our anxieties are unwarranted. Many fears never come to pass.

Others, of course, are unavoidable. Take death, for example. The fear of dying is instinctive. Our species could not survive without this instinct.

Yet Epicurus said death should not terrify us.

“Death is nothing to us,” he wrote, “since when we are, death has not come, and when death has come, we are not. The absence of life is not evil; death is no more alarming than the nothingness before birth.”

He believed that death, even at its worst, is only perfect rest.

Mark Twain echoed this sentiment a couple thousand years later when he quipped, “I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”

Epicurus’ final and greatest requirement for a good life is friendships.

Without friends, life quickly loses its flavor, whatever material successes we enjoy. Look back at your life and you’ll almost certainly find that the most significant moments were births, deaths, weddings and celebrations.

Modern science confirms the many benefits. Close human connections have been found to be just as important – and possibly more important – than even diet and fitness in increasing longevity.

(An emergency room doctor reminded me that this is not for psychological and emotional reasons alone. It can be a life or death matter whether someone is around to dial 911.)

Epicurus believed the great purpose of education is to attune the mind and senses to the great pleasures of life. He pointed out the emptiness of endless striving – and revealed what is most gratifying and enduring.

The true Epicurean is not the supreme sensualist with gourmet appetites. It is the man or woman who prefers tranquil pursuits, savors the delights of everyday life, and takes the time to love and be loved in return.

It is about taking the time to reflect on our lives and appreciate the years we have left.

Epicurus – and his exemplary disciple Fritz – would say it’s really about casual afternoons or unhurried evenings, sitting with friends, listening to music, enjoying good food and wine, and musing about the stories of our lives.

This is the art of living well.

Carpe Diem,

Alex