Epictetus, Discourses 1.20.4

“Tell us then what is ‘God,’ and what is ‘impression,’ and what is nature in the individual, and what in the Universe.” 

 

That is a long story.

 

Again, if Epicurus should come and say, that the good must be in the flesh, that too means a long discussion; it means we must be taught what is the commanding faculty in us, what constitutes our substantial and true nature.

 

If it is not probable that the good of the snail is in the shell, is it probable that man's good is in his body? 

 

Take yourself, Epicurus. What is the more masterful faculty you possess? What is it in you which deliberates, which examines everything, which examines the flesh itself and decides that it is the principal thing? 

 

Why do you light a lamp and toil for us, and write such big volumes? Is it that we may not be ignorant of the truth? Who are we? What concern have we with you? So the argument becomes a long one. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.20 

 

Ah yes, the “Explain it ALL to me, right NOW!” challenge. If it’s so easy, then surely there must be a quick soundbite, or a pretty image, which will set everything straight. 

 

For myself, however, I have found that being impatient is about my resentments, and it has nothing to do with a willingness to learn. Furthermore, whenever I demand immediate answers, it is the gratification of my gut talking, not a longing for serenity of the heart and mind. 

 

It reminds me of the “If you’re so smart, why aren’t you rich?” challenge. How can I explain that being smart is not the same as being wise, and why the love of riches is one of the very indicators of ignorance? 

 

The good life is certainly simple, though it is not necessarily easy, which isn’t the same thing. Where there is sincerity, a constant commitment flows on and on; where there is contempt, the resistance will be violent. The story unfolds as Nature intends, not as man pretends. 

 

Getting a proper start means not skipping over the basic elements, somehow hoping to rush forward to the supposedly “bigger and better” bits. Build a firm foundation, stone by stone. Plant and nurture the tiny seed for it to later grow into a mighty tree. 

 

Once I know that caring for my own awareness is the key, the rest starts to fall into place. Once I trust why character comes first, the seeming obstacles in the world begin to melt away. Certain judgments serve as the bedrock for anything else that happens to come around. 

 

No amount of academic bickering about details will matter without such first principles. The good Stoic, I believe, must be courteous to other points of view, and yet he must respectfully take a stand where he discerns an underlying error. As much as he might admire the discipline of the Epicurean, for example, he also knows he must draw a line. 

 

If Epicurus claims that pleasure is the greatest good, there is no use in nibbling at the edges. Go back to the first principles, so straightforward, while so readily overlooked.  

 

Are all pleasures inherently good? Even the child knows it not to be true, and the adult who insists otherwise is deluding himself, for he knows full well how many things that have gratified him have also harmed him deeply. 

 

So does that mean that all pleasures are inherently bad? No, stop with the jostling in line. It depends, doesn’t it? Now what does it depend upon? The source and the context of the pleasure. What measures this? The power of reason, which is able to distinguish the true from the false, the right from the wrong. 

 

That’s the express version, perhaps not presented eloquently, but it gets the job done. How odd, and how crippling, it is when we cling to a conclusion we hadn’t thought out carefully from square one. 

 

It is only a “long argument” when human stubbornness gets in the way. 

—Reflection written in 2/2001