Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.3

When you have instructions and commands from Zeus such as these, what commands would you have from me? Am I greater or more trustworthy than He? Do you need any other commands if you keep these of His? Has He not laid these commands upon you? 

 

Look at the primary conceptions. Look at the demonstrations of philosophers. Look at the lessons you have often heard, and the words you have spoken yourself—all you have read, all you have studied.

 

“How long, then, is it right to keep these commands and not break up the game?”

 

As long as it is conducted properly. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

When rightly attuned, my conscience has its authority from the order of Nature itself. 

 

Where I am patiently willing to see things as they are, and not merely as I might wish them to be, the touchstone for the good life is found in a conformity to being, not merely in the vanities of seeming. 

 

If this is indeed true, why am I looking to the prestige of the doctor, the lawyer, or the politician to guide my way? It is quite possible for them to possess wisdom, and yet that would be completely accidental to the prominence of their professions, just as being either rich or poor has no direct correlation to any moral worth. 

 

Even the mysterious allure of the priest or the sage is like a cheap parlor trick when compared to the strength of genuine character. Why bow to the words of pundits and specialists, when the one thing that truly matters can be found by looking at the reflection of God in my own soul? 

 

The only philosophy that counts is the kind committed to virtue in action, completely indifferent to posturing and dictating. 

 

While the task might seem overwhelming at first, and the language largely alien, the task at hand is refreshingly simple: what choices are best if I want to be happy? 

 

I am well advised to listen attentively to what others have to say about it, though I should not be fooled when they flash their supposed credentials, and in the end each and every one of us has the same inner capacity to arrive at a functional answer. 

 

If I exercise the mind as if it were a muscle, day to day, I will no longer be so impressed by the braggart who poses and flexes. 

 

Observe carefully. Make a note of the patterns. Ask how and why it unfolds as it does. Work backwards, so to speak, from the effects to the causes. When I can go no further, the chances are I have arrived at something substantial, a set of first principles that underlies the diversity of what I see. 

 

I find I am a creature made to understand and to love. I find that I must consider all my other circumstances as relative to that end. I find that nothing is ever in vain. I find my particular way to serve in a Universe charged with Providence. 

 

Is there some limit to following these rules? When do I stop? 

 

As these are the hallmarks of my humanity, I don’t stop, unless continuing onward would itself require me to compromise that dignity. Then I can depart in the knowledge of a job well done. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

IMAGE: Heinrich Füger, Jupiter Enthroned (c. 1800)