Trapped!

Anonymous French, A Courtier Standing Between Covetousness and Dissimulation (c. 1514) 

Simplicius, Commentary on Epictetus 11.2

. . . Well, but what is properly our own excellence, upon the account of which we may be admitted to look upon ourselves? As better and happier than we were before? 

At the beginning of this book, the first thing he mentioned of this kind, was a just and true opinion; but here he calls it a right use and management of ideas; so that opinion in that place, and ideas in this, signify one and the same thing. For we judge of things by the different representations of them to our minds, and those judgements are sometimes true, and sometimes false. 

Now the right management of ideas is, when what appears to us, agrees exactly with the nature of things themselves; and when we proceed upon these appearances, so that the judgments we form upon them, carry nothing in them that is false and inconsistent; as it would be if we should affirm, that intemperance is good, and temperance evil. 

But the most proper sense of this use of ideas, as nature and reason direct, I look upon to be a desire of those things that are good, and an aversion and detestation of those that are evil. When we have not only a bare speculative notion, what is good and what is evil, but desire and pursue that which we think to be good, and decline and abhor that which we think to be evil. 

And this may very well be called our own proper excellence; because the regulation of our desire and aversions, according to reason and nature, is always in our own power; though the exerting these, and making them effectual by outward acts, is not always so. 

And yet it is highly probable, that Epictetus may intend something farther still, by this right use of ideas, which is, that our practice and behavior should express a constant conformity to these true opinions and regular desires: that we should not think it sufficient to declare it our sense, that temperance is a virtue, but should be actually temperate, and make all our actions speak the conceptions of our minds, and the regularity of our desires upon this occasion; not to satisfy ourselves with the empty commendations of justice, nor with a few faint and feeble desires of this virtue; for this is what follows of course, and whatever we apprehend as desirable too at the same time, and yet allow ourselves in acts of injustice. 

This is the case of impotent and incontinent persons; they desire virtue, but that desire is overborne by a stronger, which inclines to pleasure. Their reason discerns what should be done, though not so clearly and powerfully as it might and ought, and for a while stands up in its vindication; and the virtuous desires and aversions, which are rightly disposed, but weak and confused, strike in, and take its part; but presently the brutish inclinations, like an impetuous torrent, bear down all before them, distract and divert the man from his cooler purposes, and drive him to what is most agreeable to his present heat. 

This is just the description before of Medea, when the tragedian brings her in with these words, which I have so oft had occasion to repeat. 

Remorse and sense of guilt pull back my soul, 
But stronger passion does her powers control; 
With rage transported, I push boldly on, 
And see the precipice I cannot shun. 

So then, it is by no means sufficient, that a man’s judgment is rightly informed, and that his desires be virtuously inclined in many instances, unless he be all of a piece; unless he takes care, the commendableness of his practice holds correspondence with the truth of his opinions. 

This is the right and best use of our ideas, and this we may think our own peculiar excellence; but no external advantage can ever be so. 

For, as the particular commendation of a carpenter, considered as a carpenter, is his working according to the rules of art and proportion, so the peculiar excellence of a philosopher, depends upon the ideas and affections of the mind being just and good; and exerting this excellence is calling these out into act, and demonstrating them to the world by a virtuous conversation. 

Dio Chrysostom, On Covetousness 2

Illustrations are at hand: Did not the sons of Iocasta, when they became at variance in their desire for more, the one wishing to be sole ruler, and the other seeking by fair means or foul to secure his portion of the kingdom—did they not, though brothers, slay each the other and bring the greatest evils, both of them, upon those who espoused their causes, since the invaders of the land straightway perished, while those who fought to defend it were worsted soon after because they would not allow the corpses to be buried? 

And again, on account of the greed of one man who carried off Helen and the possessions of Menelaus, the inhabitants of Asia's greatest city perished along with their children and wives, for harboring one woman and a little property they paid so huge a penalty. 

Then take the case of Xerxes, the master of the other continent. When he cast covetous eyes upon Greece too, and collected and brought against her so mighty a fleet and so many myriads, he shamefully lost all his armament and with difficulty saved his own person by taking to flight himself; and afterwards he was forced to endure the ravishing of his country and of his cities on the seacoast. 

As a further illustration take Polycrates: They say that so long as he was ruler of Samos alone he enjoyed the greatest felicity of any man in the whole world; but that when he wished to meddle somewhat in the affairs of the people of the opposite mainland and sailed across for the purpose of getting money from Orestes, he met with no easy death, but was impaled by that barbarian prince and thus perished. 

These instances, in order that they be warning examples to you, I have taken not only from exceedingly ancient, but also from subsequent times, and as related both in poetry and in narrative prose. 

Then it is worth your while to call to mind the attitude of the god likewise, that he also by his very nature punishes the covetous. When, for instance, the Spartans consulted his oracle to ask if he gave Arcadia to them, he not only refused them, but rebuked their insatiable greed in the following words: 

Arcadia thou askest of me? 'Tis much! Nay, give it I'll not, 

but also imposed a penalty upon them and foretold the future, yet in such a way that they did not understand, but marched against Tegea to meet with disasters known of all men. And yet, while plainly denying Arcadia to them, he would not give them Tegea either. For this was the strongest and most important place in Arcadia. But, speaking generally, the majority of mankind are so covetous that they have not even ears to hear, nor do they so much as understand words of warning when spoken. 

At another time, when the Athenians asked about the island of Sicily, the oracle answered that they should annex to their city "Sicily," this being the name of a hill near the city. But they paid no attention to what was near at hand and before their eyes; so bereft of sense were they on account of their lust for more, that they imagined the god was telling them to enclose without one wall Athens and an island some ten thousand stades distant. 

As a result they sailed thither, and not only failed to get Sicily, but lost Attica as well, and saw their city itself in the hands of her enemies. 

And if you should wish to enumerate all such examples as these, it is clear that not even in a year's time would you run out of them. Then consider, I beg of you, that most men regard physical strength as one of the blessings of life; yet I believe that in the case of those who have the greatest physical strength and greatly excel in bodily vigor, it is of advantage to sacrifice a part of this; for in my opinion what exceeds the right proportion is very troublesome. 

In the same manner wealth which may be put to use does not, if it be moderate, injure its possessor, but makes his life easier and certainly frees it from want; but if it becomes excessive, it causes far more worries and troubles than that which passes for pleasure; and many have rued the day when they acquired enormous wealth, while some for this very reason have come to lack even the barest necessities. 

So far so good! But let us take our own selves: If each element that makes up our being should wish to have the advantage, would it be possible for us to keep alive for the shortest time? 

I mean, for example, if the blood should increase a little beyond the proper proportion, or even if something or other in us should increase the pressure of the warm breath beyond its due and proper proportion, do you not know that serious and dangerous illnesses inevitably come on? And in the harmonies of these instruments of our bodies, if any one of the strings should get more than its share of tension, in Heaven's name must not the harmony as a whole be destroyed? 

As for me, I wonder greatly how we should have acted if we had not received the shortest span of life from the gods! However, just as if we were making our plans for an endless life, we strive earnestly each to have more than his neighbor. 

Just as any man, then, who knowing that he has a voyage of only two or three days' duration at the most before him, should nevertheless put enough provisions on board to last a year, will be regarded as a fool; in the same way, any man who, being fully aware that he could not live more than the allotted span of seventy years, should provide himself with substance to last him a thousand years would he not be equally and in the same way insane? 

Indeed there are some who lay in stores so great that, if they were out at sea, their ship would founder at once. And I swear it does happen to countless numbers. 

So much for that. Well then, if a man has invited ten or fifteen guests to a banquet and although needing to satisfy only so many, should then go on and make ready food enough for five hundred or a thousand, will he not be thought to be quite out of his mind? 

In like manner we also, although we know that the needs of the body are easy enough to count—for clothing, I suppose, and shelter and nourishment we do need—nevertheless strain ourselves to the utmost as if we were gathering supplies for an army and, I swear, there is good reason for our doing so; for the great majority are feeding in their hearts a whole army of desires. 

As for clothing, nobody wants to have it too large for his body, knowing that it would be inconvenient to wear; but property altogether too large for their needs all men crave, not understanding that this is more objectionable than the other. 

I think, too, that Croesus the Lydian, when he wanted to expose the insatiable greed of men, did this admirably. He conducted a group of men into his treasure-house and permitted them to take away just as much gold as each man could carry on his person. 

For we see that most of them not only filled the bosoms of their clothing, but carried away some of the dust upon their heads and in their mouths and that they could scarcely walk, cutting a ridiculous figure, all twisted out of shape as they were. 

In life also, methinks, certain men walk along in an unseemly posture and cut a ridiculous figure on account of their greed. 

Simplicius, Commentary on Epictetus 11.1

Suffer not yourself to be exalted with any excellence not properly your own. 

If your horse should be transported with his beauty, and boast of it, this would be tolerable in him: but when you value yourself, and brag of his beauty, consider, that you are not proud of an excellence in yourself, but in your horse. 

You will say then, what is a man’s own? 

I answer, a right use of his ideas. And when you manage these as you ought, then you may be allowed to please yourself. For this is being exalted with some excellence that is properly yours. 

Comment: 

The foregoing chapters acquainted us, what method must be taken to deliver ourselves from grief and fear and confusion, when any calamitous circumstances from without threaten our peace: this directs us, how to preserve an even and composed mind, when any external advantages would shake our moderation. 

Now these advantages he calls none of ours, in agreement with what he said at the beginning of his book, that the things out of our power are feeble, and servile, and liable to opposition, and not ours, but another’s. And upon the being conscious to ourselves of any such seeming advantages, he forbids us to be exalted. 

By this exaltation, I understand here, not any insolence, or haughtiness, or arrogance of humor, as the word is sometimes used in an ill sense; for sure we are not allowed to be exalted in such a manner as this, upon the account of any advantage whatsoever, though never so real a good, though never so truly our own, but, as I apprehend, this exaltation signifies the being satisfied with ourselves; and imagining, that we are better or happier upon the account of some additional good, which now we have, but had not formerly. 

So that he says, we must not think ourselves ever the better, for that good which belongs not to us; nor imagine, that another’s excellence adds anything to ours. For every good belongs to his own proper subject, in which it subsists, and whose quality it is; and no other can pretend to any right in it. 

The goodness, for instance, of a horse, belongs to the horse himself, and not to us; for if he be bold, and fleet, and manageable, he hath indeed the proper excellencies of a horse; but which way does this make for our commendation? How is this the excellence of a man? Or what augmentation can the virtue or the happiness of his owner receive from it? 

Yes, you will say, the excellence of any possessions redounds to the possessor, and the goodness of the instruments to the benefit of the artificers that use them. According to the common opinion of the world, it is acknowledged they do. 

But pray, is the excellency of an axe, suppose, able to make him a good carpenter, who was not one before? In this case therefore we would distinguish, between the excellencies peculiar to the tool, and those peculiar to the workman, with relation to the trade he professes. 

The proper excellence of an axe is to carry a good edge, and to be made neat and true; this renders it fit for service, and for the work to be cut out by it: for every instrument is commended by its work. 

But this contributes nothing to the perfection of the carpenter; for his excellence, and proper commendation, consists in observing proportions, and rules of art; and he is judged by this, and not by the work done by him, because that may happen to fail, from some defect, either in the stuff he wrought upon, or the tools he wrought with, or twenty other accidental obstructions. . . . 

Dio Chrysostom, On Covetousness 1

The majority of men think that they should speak only on those subjects concerning which the common man has not the true opinion, in order that they may hear and get guidance on the matters whereof they are ignorant; but regarding what is well known and patent to all alike they think it superfluous to instruct. 

Yet for my own part, if I saw that we were holding to what we believe to be right and were doing nothing out of harmony with the view we already have, I should not myself hold it necessary to insist on matters that are perfectly clear. 

However, since I observe that it is not our ignorance of the difference between good and evil that hurts us, so much as it is our failure to heed the dictates of reason on these matters and to be true to our personal opinions, I consider it most salutary to remind men of this without ceasing, and to appeal to their reason to give heed and in their acts to observe what is right and proper. 

For instance, just as we see physicians and pilots repeating their orders time and again to those under their command, although they were heard the first time—but still they do so when they see them neglect­ful and inattentive—so too in life it is useful to speak about the same things repeatedly, when the majority know what is their duty, but nevertheless fail to do it. 

For it is not the main thing that the sick should know what is beneficial to them, but, I suppose, that they should use the treatment; since it is this that will bring them health; nor that men in general should learn what things are helpful and what are injurious to their lives, but that they would make no mistake by their choice between these. 

For just as one may see persons who are suffering from ophthalmia and know that it hurts to put their hands to their eyes, but still are unwilling to refrain from so doing, so likewise in regard to matters in general, the majority, even though they know perfectly well that it is not advantageous to do a certain thing, none the less fall to doing it. 

Who, for instance, does not know that intemperance is a great evil to its victims? But for all that you can find thousands that are intemperate. Yes, and idleness everybody must certainly know is not only unable to provide the necessaries of life, but, in addition, is destructive to what one already has; and yet in very truth you can find more idlers than men willing to work. 

Consequently, in my opinion it devolves upon the more thoughtful on all occasions and continually to speak of these matters, in the hope that it may prove possible to make men change their ways and to force them to the better course. 

For just as in the Mysteries the initiating priest more than once explains beforehand to those who are being initiated each single thing that they must do, in like manner it is profitable that the words concerning things beneficial be repeated often, or rather, all the time, just like some sacred admonition. 

We know, for instance, that inflamed parts of the body do not yield at once to the first fomentation, but that if the treatment is continued, the swelling is softened and relief is given. So in a like manner we must be well content if we are able to assuage the inflammation in the souls of the many by the unceasing use of the word of reason. 

So I maintain in regard to covetousness too, that all men do know it is neither expedient nor honorable, but the cause of the greatest evils; and that in spite of all this, not one man refrains from it or is willing to have equality of possessions with his neighbor. 

And yet you will find that, although idleness, intemperance and, to express it in general terms, all the other vices without exception are injurious to the very men who practice them; and although those who are addicted to any of them do deservedly, in my opinion, meet with admonishment and condemnation, still you certainly will find that they are not hated or regarded as the common enemies of all mankind. 

But greed is not only the greatest evil to a man himself, but it injures his neighbors as well. And so no one pities, forsooth, the covetous man or cares to instruct him, but all shun him and regard him as their enemy. 

If, then, each of those here present wishes to know the enormity of this wickedness, let him consider how he himself feels toward those who attempt to overreach him; for in this way he can get an idea as to how other men must feel toward him if he is that sort of man. 

And further too, Euripides too, a poet second to none other in reputation, brings Iocasta on the stage addressing Eteocles and urging him to refrain from trying to overreach his brother, in some such words as these: 

At greed, the worst of deities, my son, 

Why graspest thou? Do not; she is Queen of wrong. 

Houses many and happy cities enters she, 

Nor leaves till ruined are her votaries. 

Thou art mad for her!—'tis best to venerate 

Equality, which knitteth friends to friends, 

Cities to cities, allies to allies. 

Nature gave men the law of equal rights, 

And the less, ever marshalled against 

The greater, ushers in the dawn of hate. 

I have quoted the iambics in full; for when a thought has been admirably expressed, it marks the man of good sense to use it in that form. 

In this passage, then, are enumerated all the consequences of greed: that it is of advantage neither to the individual nor to the state; but that, on the contrary, it overthrows and destroys the prosperity of families and of states as well; and, in the second place, that the law of men requires us to honor equality, and that this establishes a common bond of friendship and peace for all toward one another, whereas quarrels, internal strife, and foreign wars are due to nothing else than the desire for more, with the result that each side is deprived even of a sufficiency. 

For what is more necessary than life, or what do all men hold as of more importance than this? But nevertheless men will destroy even that for money, and some too have caused even their own fatherlands to be laid waste. 

The same poet then goes on to say that there is no greed among the divine beings, wherefore they remain indestructible and ageless, each single one keeping its own proper position night and day and through all the seasons. For, the poet adds, if they were not so ordered, none of them would be able to survive. 

When, therefore, greed would bring destruction even to the divine beings, what disastrous effect must we believe this malady causes to human kind? And he aptly mentions measures and weights as having been invented to secure justice and to prevent any man from over-reaching another. 

And Hesiod says that the half is even more than the whole, having in mind, I presume, the injuries and losses resulting from greed. For what king or potentate or people has ever attempted to transgress the principle of justice and grasp at the greater share but he has lost all his former felicity and has suffered great and over­powering disasters, bequeathing to all men thereafter unmistakable examples of folly and wickedness? 

Or of those who were willing to receive the lesser share and to endure cheerfully the seeming defeat, what man has not gained more than the others many times over, things that accrued to him automatically and without effort on his part, and has gained for the longest time fair prosperity and in the greatest security has enjoyed Fortune's blessings? 

IMAGE: Herman Han, Allegory of Covetousness (1604) 

Festina Lente

Make haste slowly. 

Maxims of Goethe 91

It is very rare to find pure and steady activity in the accomplishment of what is good and right. We usually see pedantry trying to keep back, and audacity trying to go on too fast. 

IMAGE: Arthur Rackham, The Hare and the Tortoise (1912) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.14.4

“At what point, then, must we begin?” 
 
If you attempt this task, I will tell you, that you must first understand terms. 
 
“What? Do you imply that I do not understand terms now?” 
 
You do not. 
 
“How then do I use them?” 
 
You use them as illiterate persons deal with written sounds, as cattle deal with impressions: for it is one thing to use them, and another to understand. If you think you understand them, let us take any term you like and put ourselves to the test, to see if we understand. 
 
“But it is vexatious when one is getting old, and has served, if it so chance, one's three campaigns, to be put through an examination.” 
 
I know that as well as you. You have come to me now as if you were in want of nothing: and indeed what could you be imagined as wanting? You are rich, you have children, it may be, and a wife and many servants, the Emperor knows you, you possess many friends in Rome, you perform the acts appropriate to you, you know how to return good for good and evil for evil. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.14 
 
I don’t much like being told that I don’t get it, until I realize why the offense is not about the exposure of my ignorance, but rather about my hasty presumption of understanding. I feel insulted because of my vanity, when I should actually feel grateful because of my humility. 
 
Naso’s weakness is such a widespread weakness. He is convinced he has it all figured out, and he is then ashamed to learn how he skipped over the most important bits. Which of us has not been blindsided by such a rude awakening? Which of us has not responded with outrage, in order to mask the vulnerability? 
 
In so many cases, going right back to the beginning is the best choice; it will only seem degrading and tedious if I remain hung up on my standing, as if such claims of expertise have any authentic merit. I may brag that I have an advanced degree, that I possess years of professional experience, or that my credentials are impeccable, but it won’t make a spot of difference if I haven’t the slightest clue about the workings of my own nature.
 
Though I do worry about the performative language on LinkedIn creeping its way into daily speech, it is a relief to see Naso spouting similar nonsense, just in the style of ancient Rome. We are not alone in believing that a list of fancy titles can somehow take the place of genuine competence. 
 
We also try to hide behind old age as an excuse for avoiding the legwork, as if seniority gives us the privilege to cease forming rudimentary judgments. The old man tells the middle-aged man to fix it, and the middle-aged man tells the young man to fix it, and the young man lacks a training to fix it, so in the end, shockingly, nothing gets fixed. 
 
Behind the specialized words, there are the simple words, the ones that express the most basic concepts in daily living. As often as I use them, do I truly understand what these terms represent? I speak of what is appropriate, and yet I have never questioned the fashion. I claim it is a fair decision, and yet I have no definition of justice. I insist it will bring us a profit, and yet I lack a description of benefit. 
 
In kindergarten, we had books that taught us the letters of the alphabet, and how those letters were then joined together to build common words. But as we grew older, was it enough to point at some colorful picture for an explanation of the meaning? We sadly neglect the critical and the reflective components, settling for the dull awareness of a pretty parrot. 
 
Like all of us, Naso needs to ask himself what he really wants out of life. Fortune has smiled on him—now what can be said about his character? He rewards his friends and he punishes his enemies, without ever challenging the rules of the game. 

—Reflection written in 9/2001 

Jacob's Ladder 12

Frans Francken the Younger, Jacob's Ladder (1574) 

Jacob Wrestling with the Angel 23

Pietro Ricchi, Jacob Struggles with the Angel (c. 1655) 

Netherlandish Proverbs 16

"He has more in him than an empty herring." 

There is more to it than meets the eye. 

Delphic Maxims 100

Πρᾶττε ἀμετανοήτως 

Act without regret 

IMAGE: Hermann Stilke, Joan of Arc's Death at the Stake (1843) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.14.3

The philosophers say that the first thing one must learn is this: that God exists and provides for the Universe, and it is impossible for a man to act or even to conceive a thought or reflection without God knowing. 
 
The next thing is to learn the true nature of the gods. For whatever their nature is discovered to be, he that is to please and obey them must needs try, so far as he can, to make himself like them. 
 
If God is faithful, he must be faithful too; if free, he must be free too; if beneficent, he too must be beneficent: if high-minded, he must be high-minded: he must, in fact, as one who makes God his ideal, follow this out in every act and word. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.14 
 
As soon as there is any mention of God, the postmodernists go into a panic. The abject terror of anything Divine can quickly translate into an extreme belligerence, even if the consequent burning at the stake is merely symbolic. 
 
For example, the majority of folks who now describe themselves as “Stoics” are atheists, or at the very least agnostic, on the grounds that the ancient teachings must be updated for contemporary sensibilities. This is disturbing, not because of which side currently happens to be winning in the culture wars, but because a philosophy ceases to be that philosophy once you excise one of its underlying principles. 
 
I have no interest in waging tribal warfare, so I will only suggest that some might feel far more at home among the Epicureans. There is plenty of room for many different views, though we shouldn’t obscure them by attaching the wrong labels. 
 
If it’s any consolation, I too have an immediate aversion to the sanctimonious zealots, for whom religion involves little more than admiring themselves in the mirror. I only get beyond the bitterness when my conception of God becomes so very big that my petty preferences now appear so very small. Let’s not forget who was made in whose image and likeness. 
 
When Epictetus builds his philosophy on the presence of God, he is not concerned with sectarian loyalties or extravagant imaginings. At the most basic level, it is a question of where we find the absolute, that by which all other things are measured. If we remove this, we make any judgment impossible, for then there ceases to be a standard, and we are left with the contradiction of claiming that everything is relative to everything else. 
 
Given my background, it helps me to express this in the language of the Scholastics. There can be nothing complex without something simple. There can be no degrees without a perfection. That which has limits exists within the infinite. Here and there are only possible through that which is everywhere. The changing must proceed from the unchanging. For there to be many, there must first be a one. . . . 
 
Whatever name you wish to apply to it, this is the fullness of the Divine. It follows that, however meager our human awareness might be, all of our thoughts, words, and deeds will only become good by a participation with what is ultimate. From the one end, all beings are but an expression of Being, and from the other end, all creatures aspire to the ideal of their Creator. 
 
There can be no philosophy, not of any sort, in the absence of an anchor, a benchmark, or a touchstone. Some will seek to twist themselves into a measure, at which point an effect is mistaken for a cause, and others will seek to dispose of any measure entirely, at which point reason has been abandoned, regardless of how much we call it science. It is perhaps best to attribute such errors to confusion instead of malice. 
 
Before we can even speak of something as true, or good, or beautiful, we must first establish the norm. 

—Reflection written in 9/2001 

IMAGE: William Blake, Angel of the Revelation (c. 1805) 

Jottings on Marcus 4

Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet you do not use it. . . . 

—from Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 2.4 

The fashionable pundits, the gurus of success, are right to tell me how the Universe will always give me exactly what I need, though they are sadly mistaken about what is necessary to my nature. 

I complain when I don't get the job, or I fail to win back her affections, or I receive derision instead of praise. But those things were never needed. 

In each case, I had the chance to practice humility, or to offer love without condition, or to be constant in my convictions. Those things were always needed. 

Be less like Oprah. Be more like Marcus. 

IMAGE: Gerbrand van den Eeckhout, A Hermit Praying (1663) 

Abandoned Places 70

IMAGE by Keith Dotson 

Nature 72

IMAGE by Rajarshi Banerji 

Stockdale on Stoicism 58

On the tactical side, the main idea I bring away from Epictetus is to "stay off the hook." 

If a prisoner demands conveniences, accepts favors, pleads for relief, aspires to status, attempts to prove something about himself to others, this means giving a manipulator an opening through showing need for "externals." 

The smart inmate makes it his business to find his tormentor’s exact limits, to know his own, and to demonstrate a commitment his adversary finds it unprofitable to challenge. 

A man’s master is he who is able to confer or remove whatever that man seeks or shuns. Whoever then would be free, let him wish nothing, let him decline nothing which depends on others; else he must necessarily be a slave. 

Shun externals, yes. But a man must concern himself in the world of Epictetus and in the world of extortion and manipulation with "internals," or those matters that are "up to him," and only to him. 

 
Our opinions are up to us, our impulses, desires, aversions—in short whatever is of our own doing. 

Viktor Frankl, in Man’s Search for Meaning speaks of the "freedom" he found, even in the depths of terror in his Nazi prison, in realizing that there was one thing they could never take from him: his attitude and his opinion of what was going on. 

As Jean-Paul Sartre said to a priest in another Nazi prison, "Remember, the important thing in here is not what they do to you, but what you do with what they do to you." 

—from James B. Stockdale, Epictetus' Enchiridion: Conflict and Character 

IMAGE: Margaret Bourke-White, The Living Dead of Buchenwald (1945) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.14.2

So with philosophy; we picture to ourselves the work of the philosopher to be something of this sort: he must bring his own will into harmony with events, in such manner that nothing which happens should happen against our will, and that we should not wish for anything to happen that does not happen. 
 
The result of this is that those who have thus ordered their life do not fail to get what they will, and do not fall into what they will to avoid: each man spends his own life free from pain, from fear, and from distraction, and maintains the natural and acquired relations which unite him to his fellows—the part of son, father, brother, citizen, husband, wife, neighbor, fellow traveler, ruler, subject. 
 
Such is the business of the philosopher as we picture it. The next thing is that we seek how we are to achieve it. 
 
Now we see that the carpenter becomes a carpenter by learning certain things, the helmsman becomes a helmsman by learning certain things. May we, then, infer that in the sphere of conduct too it is not enough merely to wish to become good, but one must learn certain things? We have, then, to look and see what these things are. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.14 
 
We are happy to wear the fancy shoes, but we can’t be bothered to make them, or even to repair them, for ourselves. Our houses are filled with furniture, sometimes quite ornate and luxurious, and yet I have, in my many travels, met just one man who had built it all with his own two hands. 
 
Isn’t it much the same with philosophy, when we enjoy the leisure of pondering deep thoughts, while simultaneously feeling disgusted by the drudgery of establishing our principles? 
 
Those with intellectual aspirations will make sweeping claims about truth and justice, though you will rarely find anyone who is able to define such fundamental terms. Even those who have no use for abstractions, hostile to any life of the mind, can’t help but speak of the good and the bad, of the right and the wrong, in every choice they make. Both the nerds and the jocks are always appealing to ideas from philosophy, and never actually practicing the skills of philosophy. 
 
I think of the countless times someone was fascinated upon first learning of my vocation, only to quickly lose interest once it became clear that philosophy is almost as demanding as calculus. Contrary to common opinion, you can indeed meet beautiful people by quoting Marcus Aurelius, as long as you don’t mind them wandering off after a few minutes. 
 
I wonder if Epictetus is being a bit too generous in how he describes our perception of philosophy, because so very few will go through the trouble of ever questioning their desires: we are moved by a passion, and then, if challenged, we construct a convenient justification for it, as if the conclusion comes before the premises. In any case, there is still a pervasive image of the enlightened sage, who has somehow managed to bring himself into harmony with the Universe—though how he has done so remains suspiciously vague. 
 
However much I might admire the lofty goal, I will not find any liberation without a painstaking knowledge of the thorny path; mystical yearning will not be enough. I have a noble image of the captain standing at the helm, all the while forgetting how it is only his skill as a navigator, acquired through many years of hard experience, that permits him to bring his ship safely into port. 
 
I cannot do what is good without first understanding what is good, for the very concepts of benefit and harm are dependent on a clear grasp of my nature, and how this, in turn, relates to the whole of Nature. 

—Reflection written in 9/2001 

IMAGE: Albert Edelfelt, The Helmsman (1894) 

The Cheese

Henry David Thoreau 17

Nothing is so much to be feared as fear. Atheism may comparatively be popular with God himself. 

—from Henry David Thoreau, Journals (7 September, 1851)