If
you are pained by any external thing, it is not this thing that disturbs you,
but your own judgment about it. And it is in your power to wipe out this
judgment now.
But
if anything in your own disposition gives you pain, who hinders you from correcting
your opinion? And even if you are pained because you are not doing some
particular thing that seems to you to be right, why do you not rather act than
complain?
“But
some insuperable obstacle is in the way!”
Do
not be grieved then, for the cause of its not being done depends not on you.
“But
it is not worthwhile to live, if this cannot be done!”
Take
your departure then from life contentedly, just as one who dies in full
activity, and well pleased too with the things that are obstacles.
—Marcus Aurelius,
Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)
The Stoic claim
that it is within our power to modify our feelings by modifying our judgments
may seem quite absurd, especially when we are so accustomed to defining
ourselves as creatures dominated by passion. But we need not appeal only to
some noble theory here, as the proof is in the pudding. I must only observe
that the degree of how much I choose to value something in my thinking will
determine the degree to which I am affected by a feeling.
If I don’t like
cake, I won’t be angered when someone takes the last slice. If I’m into bird
watching, I will get quite excited when I spot an ivory-billed woodpecker.
I once knew a
fellow who was hopelessly enamored of a girl we knew. He would do anything he
could to win her attention, and tried again and again to make her jealous by
flirting with other women. The object of his affections wouldn’t bite, however,
and the reason was quite clear to all of us, thought it was hardly clear to
him: what he thought and did were not all that important in her estimation, and
so she hardly felt jealous about someone she didn’t consider seriously. How she
felt about him was in direct proportion to what she thought about him.
I will only
feel loss for something I think is valuable to me, and I will only feel desire
for something I think I need. Alter the judgment about what I believe to be
worth possessing, and I will alter the power of my want.
Now I never
think of this as being something as simple as turning feelings on and off, but
rather a matter of directing or giving meaning and purpose to how I feel. Both
the mind and the emotions can be complex, subtle, and mysterious, and it will
take focus and care to understand their ways.
A pain in my
body, arising from injury or disease, or a pleasure in my passions, arising
from my deepest instincts, may not be in my power to somehow stop and start.
But it is within my power to understand them, to put them in their place, to
control my reactions to them. I often think of this as the art of tempering how I feel.
It will indeed
often seem like something is blocking my way from contentment and serenity, but
I must simply ask myself if what I am doing, or what I am leaving undone, is
itself the obstacle. If so, I am more than able to remove it by my own
decision. If not, I should not allow what I cannot determine to trouble me.
Is the weight
of circumstances actually too much to bear? Then all that remains is for them
to destroy me, and even there I am more than able to bear the end with courage
and dignity. Even on my deathbed, or swallowed up by a broken heart, I remain
my own master.
Do I find
myself feeling discouraged because I am poor? Then I can stop thinking that
being rich is itself a worthy thing. Do I find myself distracted by lust? Then
I can assure myself that I am a man and not an animal. Do I find myself
saddened because I am not loved? Then I can start remembering that giving love
is greater than receiving it. The thinking will moderate the feeling.
The last
ivory-billed woodpecker has probably already passed away, but I’d like to think
he did so completely content with himself. I should want no less for myself.
Written in 5/2008
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