“What,” you say, “am I now to be put on my trial?”
Is another then to have a fever, another to go a voyage, another die, another be condemned? I say it is impossible in a body like ours, in this enveloping space, in this common life, that events of this sort should not happen, one to this man and another to that.
It is your business then to take what fate brings and deal with what happens, as is fitting.
Suppose then the judge says, “I will judge you to be a wrongdoer”; you reply, “May it go well with you! I did my part, and it is for you to see if you have done yours: for the judge's part too, do not forget, has its own danger!"
Is another then to have a fever, another to go a voyage, another die, another be condemned? I say it is impossible in a body like ours, in this enveloping space, in this common life, that events of this sort should not happen, one to this man and another to that.
It is your business then to take what fate brings and deal with what happens, as is fitting.
Suppose then the judge says, “I will judge you to be a wrongdoer”; you reply, “May it go well with you! I did my part, and it is for you to see if you have done yours: for the judge's part too, do not forget, has its own danger!"
—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.5
Many people will implicitly assume that the happy life is meant to be the life without difficulties, and yet I have found that hardship has been a necessary component to anything that has ever been good in me. I say this not because I somehow prefer the suffering, but because the trial itself becomes the very opportunity to earn some peace of mind.
In practice, far removed from any elegant abstractions, there is no such thing as an uncontested serenity, and the man who wishes to seek out an ivory tower is driven more by his fears than he is by his hopes. I have renounced my duty to myself the moment I have made demands for the world to do it my way.
As with any relationship, the connection is mutual, with each part complementing the other. Still, I find myself tempted to pursue a ridiculously contradictory model, where I take the credit when Fortune is gratifying, and I cast the blame when Fortune is disagreeable—my standard of right and wrong changes with the weather. It becomes even more absurd when I nevertheless condemn others around me for doing the exact same thing.
Let me step back from doing their jobs, and then let me finally be consistent about doing mine. A judge, whether he be severe or merciful, will act upon his own conscience, however much I try to influence him, and he will have to face the consequences of his convictions. I, in turn, will have to do exactly the same. Ultimately, he decides nothing about me, and I decide nothing about him; we pay our money, and we make our choices.
“But I have been wronged!”
No, I have faced another who has done a wrong, and I will now determine whether I can bring myself to respond with a right. There is a good reason why the Stoic repeats his mantra over and over: “This is within your power, and this is beyond it, and that is as it should be.” I am only miserable because I am being careless about my business.
Nobility is not a peace from the circumstances, but a peace despite the circumstances: work through them, not against them.
Many people will implicitly assume that the happy life is meant to be the life without difficulties, and yet I have found that hardship has been a necessary component to anything that has ever been good in me. I say this not because I somehow prefer the suffering, but because the trial itself becomes the very opportunity to earn some peace of mind.
In practice, far removed from any elegant abstractions, there is no such thing as an uncontested serenity, and the man who wishes to seek out an ivory tower is driven more by his fears than he is by his hopes. I have renounced my duty to myself the moment I have made demands for the world to do it my way.
As with any relationship, the connection is mutual, with each part complementing the other. Still, I find myself tempted to pursue a ridiculously contradictory model, where I take the credit when Fortune is gratifying, and I cast the blame when Fortune is disagreeable—my standard of right and wrong changes with the weather. It becomes even more absurd when I nevertheless condemn others around me for doing the exact same thing.
Let me step back from doing their jobs, and then let me finally be consistent about doing mine. A judge, whether he be severe or merciful, will act upon his own conscience, however much I try to influence him, and he will have to face the consequences of his convictions. I, in turn, will have to do exactly the same. Ultimately, he decides nothing about me, and I decide nothing about him; we pay our money, and we make our choices.
“But I have been wronged!”
No, I have faced another who has done a wrong, and I will now determine whether I can bring myself to respond with a right. There is a good reason why the Stoic repeats his mantra over and over: “This is within your power, and this is beyond it, and that is as it should be.” I am only miserable because I am being careless about my business.
Nobility is not a peace from the circumstances, but a peace despite the circumstances: work through them, not against them.
—Reflection written in 6/2001
IMAGE: Adolph Tidemand, Scene Before a Magistrate in the Country (c. 1850)
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