Epictetus, Discourses 1.11.8

And if things had looked different to us, we should still have done what we were minded to do, and nothing else. 

 

So when Achilles mourned, his reason was, not the death of Patroclus—for another man, when his comrade dies, is not thus affected—but that he was so minded. 

 

So in your case, you ran away just because you were so minded; and again, if you stay it will be because you are so minded. 

 

And now you return to Rome, because you have a mind to do so; and if your mind changes, you will not depart thither. 

 

And, in a word, it is not death nor exile nor pain nor any such thing which is the cause of our action or inaction, but thoughts and judgements of the mind. Are you convinced of this or not?

 

“I am,” he said.

 

Having wandered through the halls of academia for some time now, I observe how eager many social scientists are to establish a general theory of human behavior. If we could only precisely tabulate all the factors in the environment, they believe, then we could account for anything that anyone ever does. 

 

I admire their enthusiasm, but I’m afraid they are missing the most important part, the fact that we are creatures of reason and of will, and that we will ultimately do what we have set our minds to. 

 

We are not mindless chunks of matter, tossed about by forces of fate. Even when the many have chosen the easiest or the most pleasurable path, they have still made their own choices. 

 

We will do so on our own terms, such that my response to an event can be radically different from that of another. Yes, there are dispositions, and there are habits, and there are a multitude of pressures, and behind them all stands the final arbiter of individual judgment. 

 

And that, in the end, is the measure of a man that counts the most. 

 

Achilles managed his grief according to his own attitude, and so it was not just that the loss of Patroclus “made” him act. I have known some who decided to face a hardship with incredible fortitude, and others who allowed themselves to be overwhelmed by the exact same situation. 

 

Unless I am to live under the illusion that I am powerless, which is itself a choice, I must remember that I am the captain of my soul. 

 

I smile when I hear someone say, “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll change his mind!” There can be advice or there can be coercion, and it can be sincere or it can be deceptive, but the best anyone can do is to encourage someone to change his own mind. 

 

Achilles settled on his rage, and the official settled on his fear, and I have often settled on my melancholy. Yet Achilles also chose compassion, if only for a moment, and the official later chose to seek the help of Epictetus, and I am slowly choosing to transform my own losses into opportunities. 

Written in 12/2000

IMAGE: Nikolai Ge, Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus (1855)