Stoicism does not ask you to stop grieving. Seneca, who wrote three whole works of consolation as well as several letters on loss, says plainly that tears are natural and that they ease the soul. What he warns against is adding to grief: performing it, feeding it, or letting it push out the memory of the person you have lost. His advice comes down to this: let the tears come, keep the person close in memory, and in time let the memory be a good thing rather than a wound.
He wrote about this in five main places: two letters to his friend Lucilius (Letters 63 and 99) and three formal consolations, to Marcia after the death of her son, to Polybius after the death of his brother, and to his own mother Helvia while he was in exile. Below is what those texts actually say, quoted from public-domain translations.
Tears are allowed
This surprises people who expect Stoicism to mean a stiff upper lip.
We, however, may be forgiven for bursting into tears, if only our tears have not flowed to excess, and if we have checked them by our own efforts. Let not the eyes be dry when we have lost a friend, nor let them overflow. We may weep, but we must not wail.
Seneca, Letters 63.1 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
That would mean lack of feeling rather than virtue – to behold the burial ceremonies of those near and dear to you with the same expression as you beheld their living forms, and to show no emotion over the first bereavement in your family. But suppose that I forbade you to show emotion; there are certain feelings which claim their own rights. Tears fall, no matter how we try to check them, and by being shed they ease the soul.
Seneca, Letters 99.15 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
He also separates two kinds of tears: the ones that are forced out of us by the first shock, and the ones that come later with memory.
And there is in them a certain sweet sadness when we remember the sound of a pleasant voice, a genial conversation, and the busy duties of yore; at such a time the eyes are loosened, as it were, with joy.
Seneca, Letters 99.19 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
What Seneca warns against
His concern is grief that has become a performance or a habit, kept going past what the loss itself demands.
Let us, indeed, add nothing to natural grief, nor augment it by following the example of others. The display of grief makes more demands than grief itself: how few men are sad in their own company!
Seneca, Letters 99.16 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
Nevertheless, the mourning which public opinion enjoins is more than nature insists upon.
Seneca, To Marcia, On Consolation 7 (trans. Aubrey Stewart)
Yet there is a great difference between allowing and forcing yourself to grieve.
Seneca, To Marcia, On Consolation 8 (trans. Aubrey Stewart)
The distinction is useful. Nobody chooses the first wave of grief. But some of what keeps it going is chosen: rehearsing the loss, avoiding anything that might lift the mood, or feeling that easing up would be disloyal to the person who died.
Seneca admits he got it wrong
The most human passage in his writing on grief is about himself. His close friend Annaeus Serenus, much younger than him, died first, and Seneca was overwhelmed.
He who writes these words to you is no other than I, who wept so excessively for my dear friend Annaeus Serenus that, in spite of my wishes, I must be included among the examples of men who have been overcome by grief.
Seneca, Letters 63.14 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
His explanation is that he had never pictured Serenus dying first:
It was just because I did not do this that I was unprepared when Fortune dealt me the sudden blow. Now is the time for you to reflect, not only that all things are mortal, but also that their mortality is subject to no fixed law.
Seneca, Letters 63.15 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
This is the Stoic practice of remembering mortality, aimed at the people we love. It is not meant as something to do in the middle of fresh grief. It is meant for the ordinary days before, so that love is less taken for granted. There is more on the practice itself in the guide to memento mori.
Keeping the memory
The part of Seneca's advice that people find most helpful is about memory. He does not want the dead forgotten. He wants them remembered without bitterness.
Believe me, a great part of those we have loved, though chance has removed their persons, still abides with us.
Seneca, Letters 99.4 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
You may, however, speak often concerning the departed, and cherish his memory to the extent of your power. This memory will return to you all the more often if you welcome its coming without bitterness
Seneca, Letters 99.23 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
he should continue to remember, but should cease to mourn.
Seneca, Letters 99.24 (trans. Richard M. Gummere)
In the consolation to Marcia, Seneca holds up the example of Livia, the wife of Augustus, after the death of her son Drusus:
She did not cease to make frequent mention of the name of her Drusus, to set up his portrait in all places, both public and private, and to speak of him and listen while others spoke of him with the greatest pleasure: she lived with his memory
Seneca, To Marcia, On Consolation 3 (trans. Aubrey Stewart)
And to Polybius, who had lost his brother, he suggests writing:
At the same time, prolong the remembrance of your brother by inserting some memoir of him among your other writings: for that is the only sort of monument that can be erected by man which no storm can injure, no time destroy.
Seneca, To Polybius, On Consolation 18 (trans. Aubrey Stewart)
Elsewhere he puts the same idea in one line about his own friends who had died: "I have had them as if I should one day lose them; I have lost them as if I have them still" (Letters 63.7). There are more of his lines on this in Seneca's quotes on friendship.
Where Seneca is hard to read
It is fair to say that parts of these texts are difficult. Letter 99 includes a letter Seneca wrote to a father who had lost a young son, and by his own description it is a scolding rather than a comfort. He also makes remarks about women's grief that read badly now. You do not need to accept his tone to find the core of the advice useful: feel what you feel, do not add to it, and keep the person in memory as someone you were lucky to have.
A few practices from the texts
- Let tears come without staging them. Seneca's line is between grief that is felt and grief that is performed (Letters 99.16). Crying alone is fine. So is not crying in front of people.
- Talk about the person. Say their name, tell their stories, and let others tell theirs. This is what Seneca praises in Livia (To Marcia 3) and recommends in Letters 99.23.
- Write something about them. A page, a letter, a list of things they said. Seneca's suggestion to Polybius was a memoir (To Polybius 18).
- Later, and only later, notice the gratitude. Letters 99.4 asks whether the years you had count for nothing. When you are ready, list what that person gave you that you still carry.
Seneca was writing letters to friends, not offering treatment. If grief feels overwhelming, or is not easing with time, please talk to your GP or a bereavement support service.
Sources
- Seneca, Letters 63.1, 63.7, 63.14, 63.15, 99.4, 99.15, 99.16, 99.19, 99.23, 99.24, trans. Richard M. Gummere (Loeb, 1917–25).
- Seneca, To Marcia, On Consolation 3, 7, 8, and To Polybius, On Consolation 18, trans. Aubrey Stewart (1889).
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