M. The whole cause, then, is in opinion; and this observation applies not to this grief alone, but to every other disorder of the mind, which are of four sorts, but consisting of many parts.
For as every disorder or perturbation is a motion of the mind, either devoid of reason, or in despite of reason, or in disobedience to reason, and as that motion is excited by an opinion of either good or evil; these four perturbations are divided equally into two parts: for two of them proceed from an opinion of good, one of which is an exulting pleasure, that is to say, a joy elated beyond measure, arising from an opinion of some present great good; the other is a desire which may fairly be called even a lust, and is an immoderate inclination after some conceived great good without any obedience to reason.
Therefore these two kinds, the exulting pleasure and the lust, have their rise from an opinion of good, as the other two, fear and grief, have from an opinion of evil. For fear is an opinion of some great evil impending over us, and grief is an opinion of some great evil present; and, indeed, it is a freshly conceived opinion of an evil so great that to grieve at it seems right: it is of that kind that he who is uneasy at it thinks he has good reason to be so.
Now we should exert, our utmost efforts to oppose these perturbations—which are, as it were, so many furies let loose upon us and urged on by folly—if we are desirous to pass this share of life that is allotted to us with ease and satisfaction.
But of the other feelings I shall speak elsewhere: our business at present is to drive away grief if we can, for that shall be the object of our present discussion, since you have said that it was your opinion that a wise man might be subject to grief, which I can by no means allow of; for it is a frightful, miserable, and detestable thing, which we should fly from with our utmost efforts—with all our sails and oars, as I may say.
For as every disorder or perturbation is a motion of the mind, either devoid of reason, or in despite of reason, or in disobedience to reason, and as that motion is excited by an opinion of either good or evil; these four perturbations are divided equally into two parts: for two of them proceed from an opinion of good, one of which is an exulting pleasure, that is to say, a joy elated beyond measure, arising from an opinion of some present great good; the other is a desire which may fairly be called even a lust, and is an immoderate inclination after some conceived great good without any obedience to reason.
Therefore these two kinds, the exulting pleasure and the lust, have their rise from an opinion of good, as the other two, fear and grief, have from an opinion of evil. For fear is an opinion of some great evil impending over us, and grief is an opinion of some great evil present; and, indeed, it is a freshly conceived opinion of an evil so great that to grieve at it seems right: it is of that kind that he who is uneasy at it thinks he has good reason to be so.
Now we should exert, our utmost efforts to oppose these perturbations—which are, as it were, so many furies let loose upon us and urged on by folly—if we are desirous to pass this share of life that is allotted to us with ease and satisfaction.
But of the other feelings I shall speak elsewhere: our business at present is to drive away grief if we can, for that shall be the object of our present discussion, since you have said that it was your opinion that a wise man might be subject to grief, which I can by no means allow of; for it is a frightful, miserable, and detestable thing, which we should fly from with our utmost efforts—with all our sails and oars, as I may say.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 3.11
Given how easily we permit our emotions to rule us, we remain remarkably ignorant of how they function, and of why they come about. Instead of perceiving them as a confused whole, it is more prudent to distinguish them, and instead of deferring to them without question, there is power in knowing their source.
Cicero here follows the Stoic wisdom, though it is really a matter of common sense, that the nature of our feeling is shaped by the patterns in our thinking, and so a disordered passion is ultimately the result of a disordered judgment. Whatever the immediate force of the impression, behind it always stands a habitual estimation of benefit and harm.
Do I feel an urgent desire to make money? It is because I believe wealth to be the highest good. Were I to decide otherwise, I would not be so tempted.
Am I terrified of losing her? It is because I believe my own happiness depends upon what she will give me. Were I to decide otherwise, I would be at peace.
It is no accident that the more my reason strays from the truth, the more I am burdened with sadness and doubt. Only an effort to change my understanding, however painstakingly, can restore a balance to my emotions.
Emotivism, which is a fashionable presumption of our times, wishes to have it the other way, but the irony is how the claim that reason should be subject to the passions is itself an act of judgement.
My Uncle Loisi used to tell me to fix my head if I wanted to fix my heart, and I oddly associate that with George Clinton of Funkadelic proclaiming “Free you mind. . . and your ass with follow!”
Different opinions inform different passions, whether healthy or unhealthy. Now there are many ways to classify the emotions, based upon a variety of distinctions, yet I have discovered the Stoic categories, which Cicero partially repeats here, to be the most helpful in managing my life from day to day.
To begin with, I work from either correct or mistaken perceptions of the good. Then I find myself feeling either an attraction or an aversion toward the things around me, and I further find myself concerned about what is now present or about what might come to be in the future.
My disordered emotions, which are those in conflict with sound reason, are therefore as follows:
Exulting pleasure or gratification: satisfaction in a false good
Lust: desire for a false good
Pain or grief: distress at a false evil
Fear: expectation of a false evil
In contrast, my ordered emotions, which are those in harmony with reason, are therefore as follows:
Joy: satisfaction in a true good
Wish: desire for a true good
[there can be no such thing as rational grief, i.e. a distress at a true evil]
Caution: expectation of a true evil
This only began to make sense to me after I spent a lengthy amount of time observing my own actions and reactions, and I knew it was starting to sink in when I could manage to identify a feeling at the very moment I was experiencing it. This is still incredibly difficult for me at times of intense excitement, so it remains a work in progress.
This model must also be understood within the proper context of the Stoic notions of good and evil. Since virtue is the sole human good and vice the sole human evil, by which all other circumstances are measured, we are setting ourselves up for grief and fear whenever we define ourselves by anything beyond the merits of character.
Hence we should take joy in doing what is right, be cautious about ever doing what is wrong, and sincerely wish to continue along the correct path. There are, moreover, no grounds for ever bemoaning any evils we claim to be suffering, for it is entirely within our power to remove them at our discretion, as soon as we will it.
Once I explore more about why I am feeling the way I do, I do not have to be a victim of my raging passions. Emotions are not to be denied, excised, or repressed—they are to be guided by awareness. There is a remedy for grief of mind, as there is more broadly for any kind of affliction within the soul.
Given how easily we permit our emotions to rule us, we remain remarkably ignorant of how they function, and of why they come about. Instead of perceiving them as a confused whole, it is more prudent to distinguish them, and instead of deferring to them without question, there is power in knowing their source.
Cicero here follows the Stoic wisdom, though it is really a matter of common sense, that the nature of our feeling is shaped by the patterns in our thinking, and so a disordered passion is ultimately the result of a disordered judgment. Whatever the immediate force of the impression, behind it always stands a habitual estimation of benefit and harm.
Do I feel an urgent desire to make money? It is because I believe wealth to be the highest good. Were I to decide otherwise, I would not be so tempted.
Am I terrified of losing her? It is because I believe my own happiness depends upon what she will give me. Were I to decide otherwise, I would be at peace.
It is no accident that the more my reason strays from the truth, the more I am burdened with sadness and doubt. Only an effort to change my understanding, however painstakingly, can restore a balance to my emotions.
Emotivism, which is a fashionable presumption of our times, wishes to have it the other way, but the irony is how the claim that reason should be subject to the passions is itself an act of judgement.
My Uncle Loisi used to tell me to fix my head if I wanted to fix my heart, and I oddly associate that with George Clinton of Funkadelic proclaiming “Free you mind. . . and your ass with follow!”
Different opinions inform different passions, whether healthy or unhealthy. Now there are many ways to classify the emotions, based upon a variety of distinctions, yet I have discovered the Stoic categories, which Cicero partially repeats here, to be the most helpful in managing my life from day to day.
To begin with, I work from either correct or mistaken perceptions of the good. Then I find myself feeling either an attraction or an aversion toward the things around me, and I further find myself concerned about what is now present or about what might come to be in the future.
My disordered emotions, which are those in conflict with sound reason, are therefore as follows:
Exulting pleasure or gratification: satisfaction in a false good
Lust: desire for a false good
Pain or grief: distress at a false evil
Fear: expectation of a false evil
In contrast, my ordered emotions, which are those in harmony with reason, are therefore as follows:
Joy: satisfaction in a true good
Wish: desire for a true good
[there can be no such thing as rational grief, i.e. a distress at a true evil]
Caution: expectation of a true evil
This only began to make sense to me after I spent a lengthy amount of time observing my own actions and reactions, and I knew it was starting to sink in when I could manage to identify a feeling at the very moment I was experiencing it. This is still incredibly difficult for me at times of intense excitement, so it remains a work in progress.
This model must also be understood within the proper context of the Stoic notions of good and evil. Since virtue is the sole human good and vice the sole human evil, by which all other circumstances are measured, we are setting ourselves up for grief and fear whenever we define ourselves by anything beyond the merits of character.
Hence we should take joy in doing what is right, be cautious about ever doing what is wrong, and sincerely wish to continue along the correct path. There are, moreover, no grounds for ever bemoaning any evils we claim to be suffering, for it is entirely within our power to remove them at our discretion, as soon as we will it.
Once I explore more about why I am feeling the way I do, I do not have to be a victim of my raging passions. Emotions are not to be denied, excised, or repressed—they are to be guided by awareness. There is a remedy for grief of mind, as there is more broadly for any kind of affliction within the soul.
—Reflection written in 9/1996
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