Chapter 28: That we must not be angry with men, and concerning what things are small and what are great among men.
What is the reason that we assent to a thing? Because it seems to us that it is so. It is impossible that we shall assent to that which seems not to be. Why? Because this is the nature of the mind—to agree to what is true, and disagree with what is false, and withhold judgement on what is doubtful.
What is the proof of this?
“Feel now, if you can, that it is night.”
It is impossible.
“Put away the feeling that it is day.”
It is impossible.
“Assume or put away the feeling that the stars are even in number.”
It is not possible.
When a man assents, then, to what is false, know that he had no wish to assent to the false: “for no soul is robbed of the truth with its own consent,” as Plato says, but the false seemed to him true.
“Feel now, if you can, that it is night.”
It is impossible.
“Put away the feeling that it is day.”
It is impossible.
“Assume or put away the feeling that the stars are even in number.”
It is not possible.
When a man assents, then, to what is false, know that he had no wish to assent to the false: “for no soul is robbed of the truth with its own consent,” as Plato says, but the false seemed to him true.
—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.28
As I have grown older, my sense of what will constitute a successful life has changed considerably. I have longed to win the perfect romantic love, I have dreamed of making some great mark on the world, and, in my lowest moments, I have wallowed in selfish gratification.
I will still grapple with such temptations from time to time, but now I focus on something far simpler, and also far more challenging: I wish to leave this world without being consumed by resentment.
While it is likely no one will notice, and it certainly won’t bring me any riches, I have made the improvement of my own soul the priority, so that I can learn to be happy with my own thoughts and deeds, however humble, and I can then face any obstacle or suffering with acceptance and compassion.
As long as I remain angry with anyone, or with anything in my state of affairs, I will fall short of the goal. If I can offer charity without conditions, pity without condescension, and forgivingness without any expectation of a return, I am doing my work. Where my heart and mind are still twisted, nothing else can amount to a hill of beans.
Why do I assume I must hate a man for the evil he has done? Stoicism helps me here on two levels.
First, this philosophy teaches me how the only absolute damage we can do is to ourselves, for the ultimate benefit and harm lie in our own character, regardless of other circumstances.
Second, this philosophy urges me to remember why wickedness comes to us out of ignorance, and even the most vicious malice is still presumed by the perpetrator, however recklessly, to be something good.
This chapter from Epictetus specifically offers many insights on the latter point.
Why do I desire it? Because I somehow believe it to be good. Why do I think it? Because I have somehow judged it to be true. Now I am quite possibly mistaken, but at the moment of my decision, I am convinced of the propriety of my acts.
How often have I blundered so terribly that my regret makes me desperately wish I could turn back time? Why am I failing to give my neighbor the same latitude I crave for myself?
Just as my will is naturally drawn to the perception of the good, so my intellect, in turn, is naturally drawn to the awareness of the true. Don’t ask me to assert that it is day when I sense that it is night. The way around any limitations of awareness is to inform, not to lash out in rage. Reveal my error, and only then will I understand.
Love resolves, while hatred merely compounds.
This is hardly an excuse, though it is an explanation, and it should inspire a solidarity with our brothers and sisters. As much as I may well be responsible for the very ignorance that drags me down, dwelling on the offense alone doesn’t address the cause. Assist me in fixing my thinking, and then you have become a piece of the solution.
Do I remain obstinate? You have done your proper part in providing a cure. However harsh you must be, please continue to steer me right instead of damning me to hell.
As I have grown older, my sense of what will constitute a successful life has changed considerably. I have longed to win the perfect romantic love, I have dreamed of making some great mark on the world, and, in my lowest moments, I have wallowed in selfish gratification.
I will still grapple with such temptations from time to time, but now I focus on something far simpler, and also far more challenging: I wish to leave this world without being consumed by resentment.
While it is likely no one will notice, and it certainly won’t bring me any riches, I have made the improvement of my own soul the priority, so that I can learn to be happy with my own thoughts and deeds, however humble, and I can then face any obstacle or suffering with acceptance and compassion.
As long as I remain angry with anyone, or with anything in my state of affairs, I will fall short of the goal. If I can offer charity without conditions, pity without condescension, and forgivingness without any expectation of a return, I am doing my work. Where my heart and mind are still twisted, nothing else can amount to a hill of beans.
Why do I assume I must hate a man for the evil he has done? Stoicism helps me here on two levels.
First, this philosophy teaches me how the only absolute damage we can do is to ourselves, for the ultimate benefit and harm lie in our own character, regardless of other circumstances.
Second, this philosophy urges me to remember why wickedness comes to us out of ignorance, and even the most vicious malice is still presumed by the perpetrator, however recklessly, to be something good.
This chapter from Epictetus specifically offers many insights on the latter point.
Why do I desire it? Because I somehow believe it to be good. Why do I think it? Because I have somehow judged it to be true. Now I am quite possibly mistaken, but at the moment of my decision, I am convinced of the propriety of my acts.
How often have I blundered so terribly that my regret makes me desperately wish I could turn back time? Why am I failing to give my neighbor the same latitude I crave for myself?
Just as my will is naturally drawn to the perception of the good, so my intellect, in turn, is naturally drawn to the awareness of the true. Don’t ask me to assert that it is day when I sense that it is night. The way around any limitations of awareness is to inform, not to lash out in rage. Reveal my error, and only then will I understand.
Love resolves, while hatred merely compounds.
This is hardly an excuse, though it is an explanation, and it should inspire a solidarity with our brothers and sisters. As much as I may well be responsible for the very ignorance that drags me down, dwelling on the offense alone doesn’t address the cause. Assist me in fixing my thinking, and then you have become a piece of the solution.
Do I remain obstinate? You have done your proper part in providing a cure. However harsh you must be, please continue to steer me right instead of damning me to hell.
—Reflection written in 4/2001
IMAGE: James Ward, Ignorance, Envy, and Jealousy, Filling the Throat and Widening the Mouth of Calumny, Endeavoring to Bear Down Truth. . . (1837)
No comments:
Post a Comment