Epictetus, Discourses 1.16.5

More than that: since most of you are walking in blindness, should there not be some one to discharge this duty and sing praises to God for all? 

 

What else can a lame old man as I am do but chant the praise of God? 

 

If, indeed, I were a nightingale I should sing as a nightingale, if a swan, as a swan: but as I am a rational creature I must praise God. 

 

This is my task, and I do it: and I will not abandon this duty, so long as it is given me; and I invite you all to join in this same song. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.16

 

Observe what we usually ask when we meet someone new: “What do you do?” and “Where are you from?” This is hardly just a formal social convention, as we continue to refer to such benchmarks in all aspects of our lives, from the cradle to the grave. We define ourselves through our jobs, by the supposed worth of who we are bound to for our money, and through our pedigree, by the perceived merit of who provides us with our status. 

 

Those of us who take the time to reflect may hear those questions differently, in terms of “What is your purpose in life?” and “Where is your center?”, but I have been met with awkward silence when I say that my work is to become a more decent human being, or that Nature will always be my home and Providence will always be my guide. They’ll say that you’re quite mad. 

 

Don’t let yourself be intimidated; you are actually quite sane. Epictetus understood this, and he was not ashamed to be that odd fellow who improved upon his virtues and so served God. The things we care about the most are the things we will attend to the most, and so it would be a contradiction to praise the cultivation of character while spending all our time and effort on accumulating property and increasing fame. 

 

I have had to learn that I am competent at a very few worldly tasks, useless at very many, and brilliant at none at all. At first this seemed discouraging, since this meant it was unlikely that I would ever become esteemed or rich, and yet my concerns arose from confused thinking. Whatever else I might or might not possess, I should first be busying myself with improving the goods of my soul, and approach everything else only as a means to that end. 

 

Am I committed to becoming more prudent, brave, temperate, and just? Then I do indeed have a proper sense of “what I do”. Am I conscious of my place within the whole, and willing to express gratitude to the Divine for the opportunity to live well? Then I do indeed have a proper sense of “where I am from”. The rest is secondary. 

 

If I could ask a nightingale why it sings the way it does, I can only imagine that it would tilt its head in amusement, and then respond that it is simply doing what is within its nature. I would be well advised to follow that example, to examine my own nature, and from that awareness of myself to practice the love of God and the love of neighbor. That should be my song, my life’s calling. 

—Reflection written in 1/2001