One of Michel de Montaigne’s shortest essays, On Idleness includes some of his most striking statements. Such as:
… so too with our minds. If we do not keep them busy with some particular subject which can serve as a bridle to reign them in, they charge ungovernably about, ranging to and fro over the wastelands of our thoughts; Then, there is no madness, no raving lunacy, which such agitations do not bring forth.
So Montaigne decided to just set his mind free, let it roam where it may and he would write down wherever it took him:
It seemed to me then that the greatest favour I could do for my mind was to leave it in total idleness, caring for itself, concerned only with itself, calmly thinking of itself. I hoped it could do that more easily from then on, since with the passage of time it had grown mature and put on weight. But I find – that on the contrary it bolted off like a runaway horse, taking far more trouble over itself than it ever did over anyone else; it gives birth to so many chimeras and fantastic monstrosities, one after another, without order or fitness, that, so as to contemplate at my ease their oddness and their strangeness, I began to keep a record of them, hoping in time to make my mind ashamed of itself.
That analogy of the runaway horse is really interesting, in large part because at 39, he had a terrifying personal experience that led to a concussion that he will discuss in a latter essay. But the ending line, the one about making the mind ashamed of itself, is even more striking.
Over time, I’ve come to believe that it’s the most important sentence in his project, the place where he draws the first and most important distinction between himself and the stoics. I believe the difference comes down to a subtle difference in the definition of mental strength. Marcus Aurelius defined it this way:
You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.
This is the core concept of stoicism, that you have control over your own mind. But Montaigne decided to put this to the test and let his mind roam free over whatever ideas attracted him. He discovered something radically different from the stoics, that the mind is a runaway horse.
The reason why this is the case is emotion. Montaigne will write later about all of us being composed of bits and pieces, and what he’s getting at here is the extreme effect that emotions have over our thoughts.
What I have learned in the course of writing about Montaigne as long as I have is that gaining control over your mind is less about building mental strength than it is building emotional strength, and the process of making yourself emotionally strong is no different than the process for becoming physically strong.
To put on muscle and become physically stronger, you have to keep challenging your limits, shocking the body into bursting past its limits so that fibers break down and regrow stronger. Likewise, the only way to become emotionally stronger is to make your mind ashamed of itself.
But, just as all workout routines have their ebbs and flows, periods where great gains occur, but also times due to illness or simple fatigue one needs to pull back a bit, it’s exhausting to keep looking for new ways to make your mind ashamed of itself on a regular basis. Montaigne did not self reveal at every turn, he tempered the emotional moments.
And there are other reasons to pull back at times. Yesterday, I posted a comment on a popular Instagram humanities influencer’s reel about a quote he featured from Montaigne. As a speechwriter, I’m always on the lookout for fake quotes, they are rampant on the internet these days, and the one this influencer featured wasn’t just a misquote of Montaigne, it made a point that was 180 degrees in opposition of what he believes about friendship and romantic relationships. Anyway, my comment received a massive amount of likes, and some reached out and asked about how I know about Montaigne, so I pointed them here.
This also provided me the opportunity to do some housekeeping and clear away some segments of my work that I felt were a little too personal for a mass audience. I received about a day’s influx of new traffic to my site, but that seems to have died down now.
But the incident reinforced to me that comfort levels over the course of a long-term project like this ebb and flow for a variety of reasons, and I’m sure Montaigne dealt with his own share of issues as well, especially after his first volume of essays became popular beyond his wildest dreams. Montaigne showed in the course of his work that you must be willing to confront and challenge your feelings, in whichever manner feels safest for you. But the level of that confrontation and challenge varies. Why Montaigne was so unwilling to discuss his romantic feelings is a continuing question for me. One Instagram commenter asked me about the speculation that Montaigne and La Boetie had a sexual relationship, and all I could do is acknowledge the speculation, say that there’s no way for us to ever know, and add that he certainly seemed to be unhappy with the course of his married and romantic life, so who knows? I think Montaigne would ultimately approve of my Pyrrhonist response.
We are all searching for the right ways to express what needs to be said, to stretch ourselves when necessary, but also to limit our time on the runaway horses lest we just put ourselves in constant danger. Eventually, in some manner, words need to come out or they will take control of you.
Or to put it more succinctly, the only way to become truly rational is also to become deeply emotional. This is something the stoics never understood and why Montaigne, even in his more guarded moments, is a more valuable sherpa through the challenges of life.
Leave a Reply