Above
all, however, avoid dismal men who grumble at whatever happens, and find
something to complain of in everything. Though he may continue loyal and
friendly towards you, still one's peace of mind is destroyed by a comrade whose
mind is soured and who meets every incident with a groan.
Sometimes
a cigar is just a cigar, and sometimes complaining to our friends is just a way
to help relieve our immediate frustrations. Share the burden with someone you
trust and care for, and the weight will suddenly not seem so bad.
Yet I am
painfully aware of my own tendency to cross a certain line, where I am no
longer seeking comfort and support, but I am rather spouting resentment and vengeance.
That line is drawn by my intentions, and expresses itself in the tone of my
concerns. Have I merely noted that something is bringing me grief, or am I now demanding
that the world live up to my expectations?
The distinction
may seem subtle, yet whether I go one way or another makes a world of
difference for my moral health. Do I wish to improve my own character, and make
myself better and stronger, or am I wallowing in my dislike of my
circumstances, consumed by my vanity? The one still comes from love, while the
other comes from hatred.
I will shamefully
catch myself, on each and every day, thinking or even saying something condescending
and dismissive about other people. It comes so readily, because it is so easy
to blame the world for my misery, and expect it to fix itself in order to make
me happy. I will even grow angry when other people are angry, somehow foolishly
thinking that they have no right to burden me with their problems, that they
have no right to trample on my sacred privileges.
I cannot
be a good friend to others if my thoughts, words, and actions are grounded in any
sort of disdain for any of my neighbors. Others cannot be good friends to me if
they only encourage me in my arrogance and bitterness. The poison will flow
both ways if all we do is use one another as mirrors for our own sense of
entitlement.
The vice
of complaining calls for a Stoic cure, because it speaks to one of the most fundamental
Stoic principles: we are all responsible for ourselves, and for our own
happiness. The world will be as it will be, as Providence made it, and the people
around me will act as they will act, according to their own sense of right and
wrong.
I have
no power over Nature, and I have no power over my neighbor’s conscience. I do
have power over myself, and if I do wish to affect the world in a good way, let
me start by giving of my own love, the only worthy thing I have to give. My requirement
to receive should be replaced by my willingness to give.
Whining about
the flaws of others is the refuge of someone who is not accountable to himself;
I no longer wish to be that sort of person.
Written in 8/2011
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