Musonius Rufus, Lectures 10.6

Socrates, you remember, was clearly of this frame of mind who, though publicly ridiculed by Aristophanes, was not angry, but when he happened to meet him, asked him if he would like to use him for some other role.

 Can't you imagine how quickly he would have flared up in anger at some petty abuse, this man who showed no concern even when abused in the public theater?

And the good Phocion, when his wife had been reviled by someone, so far from prosecuting the fellow when he came in fear and asked forgiveness of Phocion, saying that he did not know it was his wife whom he had offended, merely replied, "But my wife has suffered nothing at your hands, though perhaps some other woman has, so you have no need to apologize to me." 

I immediately think of Epictetus, who said that if someone spoke poorly of him, the fellow clearly did not know him well enough, because otherwise he would also have pointed out all of his other flaws.

Thinking like that does not come easy, but it can certainly be achieved, and once the habit has been formed it serves as a truly powerful liberation.

Some people tell me that Stoicism means not caring about what other people think, but I feel the need to qualify that claim. I do indeed care what other people think, simply because I care about them as people. But I do not choose to define myself by what they think of me, as much I may respect them.

There is, I would argue, a great danger in turning self-reliance into a sort of arrogant dismissiveness. I try desperately to avoid swinging from one extreme to another, from being enslaved to the opinions of others to completely ignoring the opinions of others.

I suppose one of the few things that I have really learned, through all blunders and the frustrations, is that I’m not as great as I think I am. Following from this, I have learned that I can also laugh at myself.

I have recently gotten to know some new friends from our local VFW, and my old Boston friends snicker and tell me that I have become a redneck. I have no problem with that, though I do feel a bit of a sting when they throw around terms like “white trash”.

But you know what? Even when they say such things, they are mistaken. Their assumptions about my character are on them, not on me. I prefer the company of people who are kind, thoughtful, and genuine. I care nothing for the color of your skin, or your politics, or your bank account. I care about who you are, not what you are.

Providence recently gave me a small chance to be myself, and to have no need of proving it to anyone else. A fellow I know brought his new girlfriend to an event, and for some reason she latched on to me. Not at all in a good way.

“Do you know how weird you are? Man, you read all those crazy, useless books. You’re just weird.”

“Yes, you’re right. I know.”

“You’re pretty ugly looking too. I’d never do you.”

“Yes, totally. I could never deserve to win a girl like you.”

This confused her deeply. It also required me to control my temper in a way I have not had to for many years. If I could treat her with decency after what she’d said, I could still be my own man.

She was right, of course. I am weird, and I am ugly.

She clearly did not know all of my many other faults. 

Written in 10/1999