"When you see a man shedding tears in sorrow for a child abroad or dead, or for loss of property, beware that you are not carried away by the impression that it is outward ills that make him miserable.
"Keep this thought by you ‘What distresses him is not the event, for that does not distress another, but his judgement on the event’
Therefore do not hesitate to sympathize with him so far as words go, and if it so chance, even to groan with him; but take heed that you do not also groan in your inner being."
Epictetus, Enchiridion, 16 (tr Matheson)
Stoicism often seem cold and heartless to those unfamiliar with its teachings. I have always thought of Stoicism as a true expression of love and concern, but I can understand why some of the language seems misleading.
To say, as Stoics do, that all of our external circumstances should be considered as "indifferent" is not to be heartless, uncaring, or emotionless. Stoicism is not being Mr. Spock. A Stoic loves and cares for all his fellows and for all of creation. We are "indifferent" to all things outside of us not because we don't care, but because we recognize that the good or the bad in anything and everything that happens to us can equally be taken for right or for wrong.
In other words, what hurts me isn't what happens to me, but how I judge and consider what happens to me. The reality of the situation isn't the problem. My perception is the problem.
About a decade ago, I seemed to be putting my life back together. Things had gone poorly for some time. I had lost the love of my life, I was deeply disturbed by the corruption in my Church, and I was frustrated by the decadence of my chosen vocation. But things seemed to get better. I met a lovely girl, I found a Pastor I could trust, and I now had a decent job.
But I hadn't licked the problem. I had only been experiencing more favorable conditions in my life, and thought that this made my life better. It didn't.
On Christmas Day of 2000, I felt my life was so much improved. I was so convinced I had turned the corner. This day seemed so perfect. I took my wife to my old family home, and we had a wonderful time. It was one of those crisp, snowy New England days. I decided to take an afternoon walk in the new snow. Big mistake.
As I turned the corner of my street, a neighbor I had known for many years came out of her house. I assumed she was simply offering her Holiday greetings.
Yet she simply said to me, "I'm so sorry!"
"For what?"
"I don't know what she could have been thinking!" She pointed at a house across from hers.
It turned out that the lost love of my life, the girl I'd been getting over for years and years, had bought a house within spitting distance of my parent's home.
I was devastated, and at that point recognized something very important about myself. My sense of contentment at that time had nothing to do with my own character, but was only dependent upon my improved circumstances. I was only a footnote in that girl's life, though she had been the center of mine. She and her new husband bought a new house. Those were the facts. But what I made of it was entirely up to me.
A newly married couple buying a fancy house in a classy neighborhood. Good for them. Bad for me, only if I choose to make it bad for me. It was was it was. Only my judgement made it bad for me.
Written on 2/12/2010
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