On Anxiety 3

. . . "For this reason when Zeno was going to meet Antigonus, he was not anxious, for Antigonus had no power over any of the things which Zeno admired; and Zeno did not care for those things over which Antigonus had power. But Antigonus was anxious when he was going to meet Zeno, for he wished to please Zeno; but this was a thing external. But Zeno did not want to please Antigonus; for no man who is skilled in any art wishes to please one who has no such skill." . . .

--Epictetus, Discourses 2.13 (trans Long)

Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, was well known for his modesty, simplicity, and humility. It is often said that his specific flavor of philosophy differed from that of the Cynics, specifically that of his teacher, Crates of Thebes, in his rejection of their shamelessness.

Antigonus, King of Macedonia, and a descendant of one of Alexander's generals, was a great admirer of the philosophers, and of Zeno in particular. The story has it that whenever the king visited Athens, he always made certain to attend Zeno's lectures, and he repeatedly invited the philosopher to his court.

I often imagine what must have happened when Antigonus spoke with Zeno, or when Alexander spoke with Diogenes. We know only the tales told about these meetings, but what makes these encounters so wonderful is the odd pairing of a the king and a philosopher. Diogenes apparently told Alexander to step out of his light, and Zeno apparently declined an offer to move to Macedon.

As egalitarian as we think we are, we still nervously scrape and bow to the rich, powerful, and famous. It seems only natural to pay homage to those we think are greater than ourselves, and we are anxious to please our supposed betters. It seems that for Zeno or Diogenes the roles were wonderfully reversed. Epictetus tells us that Zeno was not anxious to meet Antigonus, but that Antigonus was quite anxious to meet Zeno.

We can only understand this if we consider the measure of their power. Antigonus had great power of externals, and admired Zeno for his wisdom. Because, like so many rulers of men, he saw the world through his circumstances, he wished to impress the philosopher. This made him anxious.

Zeno had no power over any externals, but he had power over himself. Because, like so many great philosophers, he saw the world through his character, he had no reason impress a king. This gave him no anxiety at all.

I still sometimes see the great worldly successes of some of my peers, and I will still feel jealous. I feel anxious because I did not become what they did. Then I need think only of Zeno, or of Diogenes. I need not measure myself by such standards. I can be blessed only with the satisfaction of myself, while I see others grappling for influence and importance.

I once felt very nervous, because I was about to be scolded by a powerful superior. I had, like any impetuous young would-be philosopher, done something to upset correct sensibilities. I recall the moment well, because I had a sudden realization that I had no reason to be fearful or concerned at all.

I immediately knew that I ruled myself, and I needed to care for nothing more. The beautiful irony was that the man who had power over all the externals was the fellow that squirmed and stuttered in worry during our conversation. I told him I would follow my conscience, and he could do as he pleased.

I haven't always managed to do something that well, but it remains a reminder that any one of us can be like Zeno, or like Diogenes. We need not be anxious about the Antigonus, or the Alexander, in our lives.

Written in 11/1998

Image: Edvard Munch, Anxiety (1894)