"Be happy with them."

"Let not that which in another is contrary to nature be an evil to you: for you are not formed by nature to be depressed with others nor to be unhappy with others, but to be happy with them.

"If a man is unhappy, remember that his unhappiness is his own fault: for God has made all men to be happy, to be free from perturbations.

"For this purpose he has given means to them, some things to each person as his own, and other things not as his own: some things subject to hindrance and compulsion and deprivation; and these things are not a man's own: but the things which are not subject to hindrances are his own; and the nature of good and evil, as it was fit to be done by him who takes care of us and protects us like a father, he has made our own."

--Epictetus. Discourses 3.24 (tr Long)

I have long known the feeling of wanting to slap myself for being so foolish, and my continuous struggles with the Stoic Turn, with distinguishing between what is within my power and what is not within my power, is the most cringe-worthy of those moments.

It is always helpful to take a moral inventory, to take stock of where I stand. When have I been happy, and when have I been miserable, and what is the difference between those moments?

The easiest, and most misguided answer, is to say that I am happy when good things happen, and miserable when bad things happen. I may easily become resentful, because some people just seem to have the good fortune of having everything handed to them, and others always seem to get the short end of the stick.

It hardly seems fair, of course, but measuring myself by what happens to me has absolutely nothing to do with what is fair or unfair. These are simply the circumstances of existence, and they are in themselves indifferent. What matters is not what happens to me, but what I may choose to do.

"But I worked hard for everything I have! Look at my career, and my home, and my car, and all the good things I have earned!" No, you have worked hard to convince other people to give you everything you think you have, but these are things you don't possess at all. They have only been lent to you by circumstance. 

I may feel sad when people hurt me, or angry when they do me wrong, or frustrated when I haven't gotten the best slice of the cake. But what does any of that have to do with me? I am the one who decides what I think, how I choose, and what I will do. Anything else is entirely outside the scope of my power, and only that which is within my own power, within the field of my own actions, reflects on my own well-being.

The only way to overcome the sense of being a either a victim or a conqueror, of being determined, moved, and pushed around by the world, of being a slave to conditions, is to recognize that whatever anyone else in the world does may be good or bad, right or wrong, but it can in no way make me who I am. I make myself who I am.

Why be angry with someone else? They have done what they have done, and they will do what they will do, and instead of putting it all on them, I should put my response only on myself. Instead of crashing into conflict through recrimination, might I ask myself what I can do to help another be happy with me, not against me?

Each of us is given everything we need by Nature to live well. No amount of fancy trimmings or expensive options will make my life any better. The Stoic Turn is nothing less than recognizing where that measure of happiness truly lies, and why the actions of others should never determine my happiness.

This does not mean that I should not care for others. Quite the contrary, recognizing my own good, dependent on my own living, helps me to apprehend that the dignity of others mirrors my own. The game of resentment seeks to cast blame where it really doesn't belong.

Am I unhappy? I can fix that. Has another person acted poorly? I can't fix that, but I can, by fixing myself, perhaps help them to see how they can fix themselves. And that is the nature of love. Do not expect to receive, but give everything, because it is in giving and doing, not in receiving, that I may find my bliss.

Written 3/1997