Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.6

How far, then, must we submit to such commands? So far as is expedient; that is, so far as I am true to what is becoming and consistent. 

 

There are, however, some severe and sour-tempered persons who say, “I cannot dine with this fellow, and put up with his daily narrative of how he fought in Mysia. ‘I told you, brother, how I mounted the hill: now I begin again at the siege.’”

 

Another says, “I would rather dine and hear him babble on to his heart's content.” 

 

It is for you to compare these estimates: only do nothing in the spirit of one burdened and afflicted, who believes himself in an evil case: for no one compels you to this. 

 

Suppose someone made the room full of smoke. If the smoke is moderate I will stay; if excessive, I go out: for one must remember and hold fast to this, that the door is open. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

How much can I handle? At what point might the pressure break me? 

 

While I may try to ignore it, that question is still nagging at me, and it leaves me with a sort of cold terror. For all the mind’s power of self-determination, there comes a time when the system can take no more, and the constraints of the body will no longer permit the soul to do its work. 

 

But why should this be so troubling? When that moment arrives, and it will most certainly arrive, it can be met with dignity and conviction. Even though it will be my final circumstance, it still remains a circumstance, and like all the others what matters is how I choose to face it. It happens on its own terms, and I in turn resolve to act on mine. 

 

When I can no longer live according to my conscience, then it is right for me to go. Providence does not ask me to endure anything that is impossible for me to bear. 

 

Furthermore, I catch myself seriously underestimating my strength to carry on, and most of the things I believe to be intolerable are only so because of my distorted attitude; I call them obstacles when they should be opportunities. 

 

If, as the Stoics argue, I am defined by the content of my character, which is exclusively within my authority, how do I suffer harm from any other occurrence? Only my own inhibitions are keeping me from total liberty.

 

I might say that I cannot put up with a man’s foolish ramblings, but I know on the inside why that isn’t true. His words offend me because I allow them to do so; in themselves they are just words. Let him have his say, and I can then practice the arts of patience and compassion. 

 

I might complain that a pain, whether physical or emotional, is killing me. Well, if it does, then I am done with it, but if it doesn’t, I retain the option to keep it in its place. Let the impression unfold as it must, and I can then unfold as I should, paying some much-needed attention to the increase of my fortitude and constancy. 

 

This is not a matter of grinding my teeth and clenching my fists, but of going with the flow of events, not against them. I am never in an evil case, only in a despondent mindset. 

 

It may seem an odd thing to say, but I feel oddly comforted by the image of the smoky room. If it is merely an inconvenience, I commit to staying put. Once I can no longer breathe, I make my exit. There is no shame in having done one’s best, and then the honorable departure is a relief. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

IMAGE: Egbert van der Poel, Peasant Fleeing a Burning Barn (c. 1655)