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Friday, July 5, 2024

Epictetus, Discourses 2.6.4


“In Caesar's presence my life is in danger.”
 
But am not I in equal danger, dwelling in Nicopolis, where earthquakes are so many? And you too, when you sail across the Adriatic, are you not in danger of your life?
 
“Yes, but in thought too I am in danger.”
 
Your thought? How can that be? Who can compel you to think against your will? The thought of others? How can it be any danger to you for others to have false ideas?
 
“Yes, but I am in danger of being banished.”
 
What is being banished? Is it being elsewhere than in Rome? 
 
“Yes, suppose I am sent to Gyara?”
 
If it makes for your good, you will go: if not, you have a place to go to instead of Gyara, a place whither he who is sending you to Gyara will also go whether he will or no. 
 
Why then do you go to Rome as though it meant so much? It is not much compared with your preparation for it: so that a youth of fine feeling may say, “It was not worth this price—to have heard so many lectures and written so many exercises, and sat at the feet of an old man of no great merit." 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.6 
 
What I might consider to be safety is hardly safe at all. I am confused about where to find any true security, looking on the outside instead of on the inside, and I boldly claim to know so many things for certain about which I am really only guessing.
 
My forays into academic philosophy were built largely around a defense of classical realism, the position that knowledge is directly grounded in an awareness of what is objectively real. This corresponds to the Stoic concept of katalepsis, or “grasping”, where the assent of the mind is true or false through its conformity to being. In this, the Stoics stood firm against the various schools of the Skeptics, just as nowadays the few of us who insist upon common-sense realism are desperately trying to stay afloat in a sea of subjectivism. 
 
Yet as I probed further and further into the topic, I found that I needed be extremely careful about what I could actually declare to be certain: the list seemed to get shorter by the day. While my commitment to wisdom greatly increased, my confidence in its scope sharply decreased. I held very many opinions about the world, and yet very few of them could be “tied down” by knowledge, as Socrates said, so I reduced myself to a small set of first principles and a cautious curiosity about all the rest. 
 
In daily practice, this meant that I had to tear down many old assumptions, including what I took to be constant and reliable in this world. While I was tempted to cling to possessions, I found that they did not define me. While I sought a diversion in social entanglements, they offered nothing substantial. While I relied upon my surroundings, I was neglecting what was essential within me. I had many plans for the outer trappings of my life, though I was quite clueless about the inner purpose of my life. 
 
It turned out that I could not turn to my circumstances for comfort, since there was nothing stable or reliable to them—Fortune marches to her own drum.  In contrast, however, I perceived why the very facts of my own nature clearly indicated my calling: as a creature of mind, I am made to know the truth, and as a creature of will, I am made to love the good. Anything else is fleeting, and hence it is negotiable. With apologies to Thomas Aquinas, the rest now seemed like straw. 
 
Why am I so troubled by the behavior of some petty tyrant, when the real problem is about ruling my own soul? It ultimately makes little difference if I am executed in Rome, or crushed by an earthquake in Nicopolis, or banished to the barren island of Gyara. Events will play themselves out on their own terms, and there will be an ending, one way or another; the world offers no guarantees. In the meantime, it is my responsibility to live with conviction and integrity, to build up what little virtue I can, and to thereby add my momentary spark to the all-consuming fire that is God. 
 
You ask how I am certain there “is” a God? Where there is any being, there is Being. Where there is action, there is purpose. Where there is meaning, there is Mind. From the beauty of the smallest thing, I perceive the glory of the greatest thing.
 
If I maintain I can no longer bear it, then I can opt out right now, but there is still so much for me to do, there are still so many opportunities to live with prudence, fortitude, temperance, and justice. This is why each moment is precious, and, dare I say, sacred. The duration or the location are insignificant in comparison to the dignity of the human vocation. 
 
The many worldly successes we are taught to revere are ridiculously overrated: they add nothing to what is at the core, and they can so very quickly become a distraction from the task at hand. They will tell you how this school, or that job, will bring you satisfaction, and then you see how it is all about putting on a show. Do not despair, as this means you are finally waking up! 
 
I don’t imagine any of the inhabitants of Pompeii expected to be smothered by volcanic ash on that fateful day, and they probably felt quite secure in their daily routines. Take nothing for granted, and by being indifferent to circumstances you are then free to focus on cultivating the peace of the soul. 

—Reflection written in 6/2001 



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