Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.3

If, then, the philosopher cannot despise blows and insults, when he ought obviously to despise even death, what good would he be?

Well and good, you say, but the spirit of the man who does such things is monstrous, executing his purpose to insult by jeering and a slap in the face, or by abusive language or by some other such action. 

People have regularly told me to be tough, to get over it, to move on, to not let it get to me. I try to take such guidance in the best possible way, but I fear that I am often thinking of what is at stake from a very different place.

I am certainly not interested in being thoughtless and heartless, because however resilient that might make me, it would also be a denial of exactly what makes me human; ceasing to have concern would mean ceasing to live with any worth.

I also notice that many people are quick to demand, sometimes rather rudely, that the other fellow “grow a pair”, and yet they themselves become quite enraged and vindictive when they find themselves offended.

Is it perhaps aggressiveness they are actually preaching, not tolerance? It seems odd that we love to care so much about insisting that we don’t care.

I am hardly being indifferent, in the Stoic sense, or rising above my circumstances if I am consumed by rage and obsessed with payback. I have not mastered my passions, but I have allowed my passions to master me.

I will only be able to forgive and forget, as they say, when I recognize that all the terrible wrongs I think I suffer are not so terrible at all, that there are things far more valuable and important to cling to in this life.

There is nothing courageous, or principled, or philosophical in my thinking when I speak nobly about facing death, or I praise the merits of great sacrifice, and yet I still simmer with resentment when my neighbor rubs me the wrong way. All the big things will be meaningless without a willingness to manage the little things.

The temptation, of course, is to cast the greatest possible blame on the offender, to argue that the gravity of the transgression is too great. The wrongdoing is unbearable, the villain is unforgivable; look at how hateful and disgusting he is by degrading my name, stealing my goods, and stepping on my pride!

Yes, he causes me pain. Perhaps he is indeed consumed by ignorance and vice. Is it now my place to cause him pain? Shall I join him in his ignorance and vice?

You say he lives like a beast. It is still possible, then, for me to live like a human being. 

Written in 10/1999