Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 60

Good in general is that from which some advantage comes, and more particularly what is either identical with or not distinct from benefit. 

Whence it follows that virtue itself and whatever partakes of virtue is called good in these three senses—viz. as being (1) the source from which benefit results; or (2) that in respect of which benefit results, e.g. the virtuous act; or (3) that by the agency of which benefit results, e.g. the good man who partakes in virtue. 

Another particular definition of good which they give is "the natural perfection of a rational being qua rational." To this answers virtue and, as being partakers in virtue, virtuous acts and good men; as also its supervening accessories, joy and gladness and the like. 

So with evils: either they are vices, folly, cowardice, injustice, and the like; or things which partake of vice, including vicious acts and wicked persons as well as their accompaniments, despair, moroseness, and the like. 

Again, some goods are goods of the mind and others external, while some are neither mental nor external. 

The former include the virtues and virtuous acts; external goods are such as having a good country or a good friend, and the prosperity of such. Whereas to be good and happy oneself is of the class of goods neither mental nor external. 

Similarly of things evil some are mental evils, namely, vices and vicious actions; others are outward evils, as to have a foolish country or a foolish friend and the unhappiness of such; other evils again are neither mental nor outward, e.g. to be yourself bad and unhappy. 

Again, goods are either of the nature of ends or they are the means to these ends, or they are at the same time end and means. 

A friend and the advantages derived from him are means to good, whereas confidence, high-spirit, liberty, delight, gladness, freedom from pain, and every virtuous act are of the nature of ends. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.94-96 

IMAGE: Adriaen van Nieulandt, The Battle of Virtue Against the Vices (1655) 

Fractals 40

Delphic Maxims 23

Σοφίαν ζήλου 
Long for wisdom 

IMAGE: Nicolas Regnier, Allegory of Wisdom (1626) 

Michael Leunig 49

Epictetus, Discourses 2.1.6

“Well then, when a man turns his slave round before the praetor, does he do nothing?”
 
He does something. 
 
“What?” 
 
He turns his slave round before the praetor. 
 
“Nothing else?” 
 
Yes, he is bound to pay the twentieth for him. 
 
“What follows? Has not the man to whom this is done gained freedom?”
 
No more than he has gained peace of mind. For do you who can confer this freedom own no master? Have you not a master in money, a girl lover or a boy lover, the tyrant, or a friend of the tyrant? If not, why do you tremble when you go away to face a crisis of this sort? 
 
Therefore, I say many times over: What you must practice and have at command is to know what you ought to approach with confidence, and what with caution; all that is beyond the control of the will with confidence, and what is dependent on the will with caution. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.1 
 
The context of this section is the legal process whereby a Roman master could choose to free his slave. There was a specific ritual, which included a magistrate laying a rod on the slave’s head, which was shaved for the occasion, but covered with a felt cap. 
 
After the proper words were spoken, the owner would turn the slave around and release him, while the official was more than happy to receive a payment of tax for his services. 
 
The man was now technically a free citizen, and though certain legal restrictions remained, a former slave could do quite well for himself in Roman society. At the very least, he was no longer at the constant beck and call of another. 
 
Surely the ceremony of manumission had bestowed liberty where once there was bondage? 
 
Epictetus, who was himself a former slave, didn’t seem to think so. No one grants a man his freedom, and no one can take it away. The outside circumstances are not to be confused with the inner character. 
 
If you put a lock on the door or a chain on my leg, you may hinder where I can walk, but you do not hinder how I choose to think or what I choose to love. Likewise, if you issue me all the right documents or award me a key to the executive washroom, it does not emancipate my soul. 
 
I may happen to acquire wealth and influence, and so find myself with access to the corridors of power, and that still says nothing about whether I have gained any power over myself. 
 
The priest might be enslaved to his whiskey, and the politician to his corporate donors, and the businessman to his mistress. I will know that I too remain in bondage if I am constantly anxious about the schemes of covetous men.
 
With a Stoic perspective on life, freedom and slavery take on very different meanings. Though I have wasted many years fretting over the situations that surround me, I must now learn to concentrate on the merits of my judgments. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001 

IMAGE: A Roman relief depicting the manumission of slaves (1st century BC) 

Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 22

Returning to the charge at another time, this same Antiphon engaged Socrates in conversation thus: 

Antiphon: "Socrates, for my part, I believe you to be a good and upright man; but for your wisdom I cannot say much. I fancy you would hardly dispute the verdict yourself, since, as I remark, you do not ask a money payment for your society; and yet if it were your cloak now, or your house, or any other of your possessions, you would set some value upon it, and never dream, I will not say of parting with it gratis, but of exchanging it for less than its worth. 

"A plain proof, to my mind, that if you thought your society worth anything, you would ask for it not less than its equivalent in gold. Hence the conclusion to which I have come, as already stated: good and upright you may be, since you do not cheat people from pure selfishness; but wise you cannot be, since your knowledge is not worth a cent." 

To this onslaught Socrates: "Antiphon, it is a tenet which we cling to that beauty and wisdom have this in common, that there is a fair way and a foul way in which to dispose of them. The vendor of beauty purchases an evil name, but supposing the same person has discerned a soul of beauty in his lover and makes that man his friend, we regard his choice as sensible. 

"So is it with wisdom; he who sells it for money to the first bidder we name a sophist, as though one should say a man who prostitutes his wisdom; but if the same man, discerning the noble nature of another, shall teach that other every good thing, and make him his friend, of such a one we say he does that which it is the duty of every good citizen of gentle soul to do. 

"In accordance with this theory, I too, Antiphon, having my tastes, even as another finds pleasure in his horse and his hounds, and another in his fighting cocks, so I too take my pleasure in good friends; and if I have any good thing myself I teach it to them, or I commend them to others by whom I think they will be helped forwards on the path of virtue. 

"The treasures also of the wise of old, written and bequeathed in their books, I unfold and peruse in common with my friends. If our eye light upon any good thing we cull it eagerly, and regard it as great gain if we may but grow in friendship with one another." 

As I listened to this talk I could not but reflect that he, the master, was a person to be envied, and that we, his hearers, were being led by him to beauty and nobility of soul. 

Again on some occasion the same Antiphon asked Socrates how he expected to make politicians of others when, even if he had the knowledge, he did not engage in politics himself.

Socrates replied: "I will put to you a question, Antiphon: Which were the more statesmanlike proceeding, to practice politics myself single-handed, or to devote myself to making as many others as possible fit to engage in that pursuit?" 

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 1.6 

Sayings of Ramakrishna 211

Have you got, O preacher, the badge of authority? 

As the humblest subject wearing the badge of the King is heard with respect and awe, and can quell the riot by showing his badge; so must you, O preacher, obtain first the order and inspiration from God. 

So long as you have not this inspiration, you may preach all your life, but that will be mere waste of breath. 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.1.5

What then is the fruit of these judgements? A fruit which must needs be most noble and most becoming to those who are truly being educated—a mind tranquil and fearless and free. For on these matters you must not trust the multitude, who say, “Only the free may be educated”, but rather the philosophers who say, “Only the educated are free.” 
 
“What do you mean by that?” 
 
I mean this. What else is freedom but power to pass our life as we will? 
 
“True.” 
 
Tell me, fellow men, do you wish to live doing wrong? 
 
“We do not.” 
 
Is no one free who does wrong? 
 
“No one.” 
 
Do you wish to live in fear, in pain, in distress of mind? 
 
“By no means.” 
 
Well, no man who suffers fear or pain or distress of mind is free, but whoever is quit of fears and pains and distresses is by the self-same road quit of slavery. How then shall we go on believing you, dearest lawgivers? 
 
Do we allow none but the free to get education? 
 
Nay! philosophers say that we do not allow any to be free except those whose education is complete: that is, God does not allow it. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.1 
 
For any of this passage to make sense, I need to rid myself of the commonly accepted definitions of what it means both to be free and to be educated. This isn’t as easy as it sounds, because for so many years I have been taught that freedom is about a liberty from external restrictions, and learning is about acquiring the skills necessary to make more money. 
 
That’s all nice and well if I wish to confine myself to being a creature ruled by impressions, but if I consider my nature more closely, I find that I am made to be so much more. True freedom is in a self-mastery over the mind and the will, and genuine learning is in forming the discipline of self-awareness.
 
Once I become free, any circumstance, however much it may hinder the body, is an occasion for tranquility within the soul. Once I become educated, getting rich no longer means what it used to mean. 
 
For as long as we can remember, an education has usually been the privilege of those who already possess power and influence; even when we attempt to introduce some equality of opportunity, the best is reserved for the ones who have the luxury of paying. 
 
Hence, we are caught in a trap where only the gentleman of leisure receives the fine schooling, while the man bound to labor in the gentleman’s factory must settle for the scraps. 
 
For the Romans, of course, the formula also assumed that a slave, who was no more than a piece of property, didn’t deserve to learn to like the free man who owned him. The specifics are different, though the assumptions are much the same. 
 
The Stoic, however, in reassessing the priorities of life, flips the cause and the consequence. No, a man does not gain an education because he is free, rather a man gains freedom because he is educated. 
 
If I recall how Stoicism rightly understands the concepts of liberty and learning, as a peace of mind and the means to obtain it, then I will cease to measure myself by the adornments on the outside. 
 
Change the thinking, and you change the whole order of living. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001 

Howard Jones, Dream into Action 2

"Life in One Day" was the second single from the album in the USA, though it was the third in the UK, following "Look Mama". 

Lyrically and musically, It reminds me of "New Song", both upbeat and uptempo, and I imagine that may have been part of the intent. Howard Jones was always walking a precarious line between following his own muse and playing to the market, which reflects the many struggles we all face about maintaining integrity while working in the world. 

The story has it that Jones and Rupert Hine, back for a second run as producer, played a first mix of the album to the suits at the record label, and they were met with the usual response. Indeed, I think most every musician who gets a recording contract has heard some variation of it: 

"Where are the hits? This album doesn't have enough hits!" 

While the true artist is focused on producing a work of beauty and meaning, management is really in it to make some money, Now these two things don't necessarily have to be in conflict with one another, and I believe Jones is living proof of that, but a man can never really serve two masters. I suspect I would throw up my hands in despair, so I admire Jones for giving it his best. 

Under pressure to provide at least one more track suitable for radio airplay, Jones locked himself in a room for the weekend to write "Life in One Day". He has mentioned many times how there is a certain irony here, a song about taking it easy on yourself produced in a frantic rush to manufacture a marketable product. It isn't easy coming up with a three or four minute tune that's both smart and catchy. 

Why must I always be so busy? Why does everything have to be done now, or even yesterday? Why am I measuring the success of my life by how much noise I make? 

"Life in One Day" is a wonderful relief from the constant demand to do more and more, a little reminder that I don't have to run in the rate race. Let me find the joy in this moment, some peace in appreciating the little things, which actually turn out to be the big things. I will do the most good by fixing myself, not by trying to fix the rest of the world. 

Most attempts at "uplifting" songs from the 1980's fell into saccharine platitudes about "holding hands with the children to reach for the future" or whatnot. At least Jones kept it simple and humble. Less is more. Quality over quantity. All in due time. Slow and steady wins the race. 

—5/2007 

A few words of commentary from Howard Jones: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkLFhKozGbA

And the song itself: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkh1_Zpq8mQ

I swear I remember a music video for this song, though I now cannot find a copy of it anywhere. Perhaps it is caught up in some copyright issues? 

Howard Jones, "Life in One Day" from Dream into Action (1985) 

The old man said to me 
Said don't always take life so seriously 
Play the flute 
And dance and sing your song 

Try and enjoy the here and now 
The future will take care of itself somehow 
The grass is never greener over there 
Time will wear away the stone 
Gets the hereditary bone 

Don't try to live your life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 
Don't try to live your life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 

The old man said to me 
Said you can't change the world single-handedly  
Raise a glass enjoy the scenery 
Pretend the water is champagne 
And fill my glass again and again 
While the wolves are gathering round your door 
Time will wear away the stone 
Gets the hereditary bone 

Don't try to live your life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 
Don't try to live your life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 

The old man said to me 
Said don't always take life so seriously 
Play the flute 
And dance and sing your song 

Try and enjoy the here and now 
The future will take care of itself somehow 
The grass is never greener over there 
Time will wear away the stone 
Gets the hereditary bone 

I tried to live my life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 

I bit off more than I can chew 
Only so much you can do 

Wolves are gathering round my door 
Ask them in and invite some more 

I tried to live my life in one day 
Don't go speed your time away 

The Fallen Angel

Alexandre Cabanel, The Fallen Angel (1847) 

The expression in those eyes tells me everything I need to know about pride, anger, and regret. 

Stoic Snippets 199

If you are able, correct by teaching those who do wrong; but if you cannot, remember that indulgence is given to you for this purpose. 

And the gods, too, are indulgent to such persons; and for some purposes they even help them to get health, wealth, reputation; so kind they are. 

And it is in your power also; or say, who hinders you? 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.11 

IMAGE: Bernardo Strozzi, 

Eratosthenes Teaching in Alexandria

 (1635) 

The Wisdom of Solomon 17:1-21

[1] Great are your judgments and hard to describe;
therefore uninstructed souls have gone astray.
[2] For when lawless men supposed that they held
the holy nation in their power,
they themselves lay as captives of darkness
and prisoners of long night,
shut in under their roofs, exiles from eternal providence.
[3] For thinking that in their secret sins they were unobserved
behind a dark curtain of forgetfulness,
they were scattered, terribly alarmed,
and appalled by specters.
[4] For not even the inner chamber that held them
protected them from fear,
but terrifying sounds rang out around them,
and dismal phantoms with gloomy faces appeared.
[5] And no power of fire was able to give light,
nor did the brilliant flames of the stars
avail to illumine that hateful night.
[6] Nothing was shining through to them
except a dreadful, self-kindled fire,
and in terror they deemed the things which they saw
to be worse than that unseen appearance.
[7] The delusions of their magic art lay humbled,
and their boasted wisdom was scornfully rebuked.
[8] For those who promised to drive off the fears
and disorders of a sick soul
were sick themselves with ridiculous fear.
[9] For even if nothing disturbing frightened them,
yet, scared by the passing of beasts and the
hissing of serpents,
[10] they perished in trembling fear,
refusing to look even at the air, though it
nowhere could be avoided.
[11] For wickedness is a cowardly thing, condemned
by its own testimony;
distressed by conscience, it has always exaggerated
the difficulties.
[12] For fear is nothing but surrender of the helps
that come from reason;
[13] and the inner expectation of help, being weak,
prefers ignorance of what causes the torment.
[14] But throughout the night, which was really powerless,
and which beset them from the recesses of powerless Hades,
they all slept the same sleep,
[15] and now were driven by monstrous specters,
and now were paralyzed by their souls' surrender,
for sudden and unexpected fear overwhelmed them.
[16] And whoever was there fell down,
and thus was kept shut up in a prison not made of iron;
[17] for whether he was a farmer or a shepherd
or a workman who toiled in the wilderness,
he was seized, and endured the inescapable fate;
for with one chain of darkness they all were bound.
[18] Whether there came a whistling wind,
or a melodious sound of birds in wide-spreading branches,
or the rhythm of violently rushing water,
[19] or the harsh crash of rocks hurled down,
or the unseen running of leaping animals,
or the sound of the most savage roaring beasts,
or an echo thrown back from a hollow of the mountains,
it paralyzed them with terror.
[20] For the whole world was illumined with brilliant light,
and was engaged in unhindered work,
[21] while over those men alone heavy night was spread,
an image of the darkness that was destined to receive them;
but still heavier than darkness were they to themselves. 

IMAGE: Gustave Doré, The Ninth Plague: Darkness (1866) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.1.4

We ought then to turn our confidence towards death, and our caution towards the fear of death: what we really do is just the contrary; we fly from death, yet we pay no heed to forming judgements about death, but are reckless and indifferent. 
 
Socrates called such fears “bogies”, and rightly too. For just as masks seem fearful and terrible to children from want of experience, so we are affected by events for much the same reason as children are affected by “bogies”.
 
For what makes a child? Want of knowledge. What makes a child? Want of instruction. For so far as a child knows those things, he is no worse off than we are. 
 
What is death? A bogy. Turn it round and see what it is: you see it does not bite. The stuff of the body was bound to be parted from the airy element, either now or hereafter, as it existed apart from it before. 
 
Why then are you vexed if they are parted now? For if not parted now, they will be hereafter. Why so? That the revolution of the Universe may be accomplished, for it has need of things present, things future, and things past and done with. 
 
What is pain? A bogy. Turn it round and see what it is. The poor flesh is subject to rough movement, then again to smooth. If it is not to your profit, the door stands open: if it is to your profit, bear it. For in every event the door must stand open and then we have no trouble. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.1 
 
When I am in a poetic mood, I can ponder death in the abstract, and I can even conceive of it as coldly noble. Yet as soon as the practical possibility of my demise jumps into view, I am overcome by an almost paralyzing sense of dread. It looks much fiercer up-close. 
 
The same is true with the prospect of intense pain, and while death would properly involve the cessation of all sensation, I still place them together in my imagination, perhaps because they both involve the disturbing image of watching myself be eaten away by corruption. 
 
As powerful as such feelings may be, I must calmly note what it is I am actually facing—these are impressions, nothing more, and they will possess whatever significance I choose to grant them. 
 
It is not death or pain themselves that are troubling me, but rather my estimation of death and pain. My passions should be in my service, not holding me hostage. 
 
I have often seen crude and heartless men ridicule children for being frightened, and this frustrated me until I realized how their hectoring was itself just another mark of insecurity, as too was my temptation to be angry with them. 
 
I might say that I am scared of something, and yet it is only my ignorance of both its purpose and my own purpose that causes me anxiety. 
 
Once I reflect upon my own nature, I recognize that I was not made to be a permanent fixture, for everything in the whole of Nature is brought forth and passes away. I came to be, and soon I will cease to be, so that something else might come to be. 
 
I know that to be good and beautiful, so I do not need to feel any grief. It turns out that the whole point is not in living longer, but in living better. 
 
This is also true of pain. When it is too much, it may mean it is time to depart, though at this moment it remains within my power to put it to good use. The hardship is offered as the very opportunity for excellence. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001 

IMAGE: Francisco de Goya, Here Comes the Bogey-Man (c. 1798) 

As the Ruin Falls

"As the Ruin Falls" 

C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) 

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you. 
I never had a selfless thought since I was born. 
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through: 
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn. 

Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek, 
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin: 
I talk of love—a scholar's parrot may talk Greek— 
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin. 

Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making 
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back 
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking. 

For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains 
You give me are more precious than all other gains. 

IMAGE: Hubert Robert, Ruined Bridge with Figures Crossing (1767) 

The Art of Peace 98

Cast off limiting thoughts and return to true emptiness. 

Stand in the midst of the Great Void. 

This is the secret of the Way of a Warrior. 

Dhammapada 316, 317

They who are ashamed of what they ought not to be ashamed of, and are not ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, such men, embracing false doctrines enter the evil path. 

They who fear when they ought not to fear, and fear not when they ought to fear, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path.  

Epictetus, Discourses 2.1.3

Wherefore, as is likely with men who are mistaken in the greatest matters, we convert our natural confidence into something bold, desperate, reckless, shameless, whereas we change our natural caution and modesty into a cowardly and abject quality, full of fears and perturbations. 
 
For if a man transfers his caution to the region of the will and the operations of the will, with the will to be cautious he will find that the will to avoid lies in his control: while if he turns his caution to what is beyond the control of our will, inasmuch as his will to avoid will be directed to what depends upon others he will of necessity be subject to fear, inconstancy, and perturbation. 
 
For it is not death or pain which is a fearful thing, but the fear of pain or death. Therefore, men praise him who said: 
 
“Not death, but shameful death, is to be feared." 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.1 

 
It was Aristotle who most helped me to understand why an action only becomes fully good within the context of the intentions and the circumstances. If, for example, you tell me to be brave, all the willpower in the world will be useless without the prudence to grasp the end for which I am risking life and limb, and the judgment to discern my capacity for facing the danger. The absence of such awareness will swiftly trap me in the extremes of being either cowardly or foolhardy. 
 
Should I be confident or cautious? Yes. Let me be confident that the world will not throw anything at me that I cannot put to good use, and let me be cautious in the way I go about distinguishing the true from the false, the right from the wrong. 
 
What I find here is yet another application of the old Stoic maxim: when I focus on the clarity of my thinking, I no longer need to worry about the difficulty in my living. 
 
So much of the contemporary “self-help” movement stresses that we can be whatever we want to be, if we just put our minds to it. There is much truth to this, but as with any attempts at a quick fix, it neglects to distinguish about what is truly within our power. I will be sorely disappointed if I try to transform lead into gold, though my nature is quite well suited to transforming vices into virtues. 
 
I should commit myself to changing what is mine to change, and then be content with letting the rest go about its own business. Peace of mind will make me happy, not gold. 
 
The bitter irony is that we express the greatest confidence about forcing the circumstances to conform to our wills, when in reality we are absolutely terrified of what the world might do to us without a moment’s notice. As much as we don’t wish to admit it, we know full well that the slightest twitch of fate could immediately mean crippling poverty, excruciating pain, or irrevocable death. 
 
Yet none of that has to ruin us, once we recognize that our merit is in the dignity of what we do, regardless of what is done to us. 
 
I will have to die, whether today or tomorrow, and that leaves me with the liberty to die in good standing, fearing nothing except the failure of my own conscience. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001 

IMAGE: Joachim Patinir, Landscape with the Crossing of the River Styx (c. 1520) 

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 113

Tears gratify a savage nature, they do not melt it. 

Sayings of Heraclitus 71

And it is the same thing in us that is quick and dead, awake and asleep, young and old; the former are shifted and become the latter, and the latter in turn are shifted and become the former. 

IMAGE: Anonymous, Death and Life (19th century) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.1.2

However, we behave like deer: when hinds fear the feathers and fly from them, where do they turn, and in what do they take refuge as a safe retreat? They turn to the nets, and so they perish because they confuse objects of fear with objects of confidence. 
 
So it is with us. Where do we show fear? In regard to things outside our will's control. Again, when do we behave with confidence as though there were nothing to fear? In matters within the will's control. 
 
So if only we are successful in things beyond our will's control we think it is of no consequence to us to be deceived or to act rashly, or to do a shameless deed, or to conceive a shameful desire. But where death or exile or pain or infamy confronts us, there we show the spirit of retreat and of wild alarm. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.1 
 
On any given day, what do I find myself worrying about the most? What sorts of fears keep me tossing and turning at night? 
 
I wonder how I am going to pay the bills this month. I hope that creaking noise coming from the car isn’t too serious. I fret over why the doctors can do nothing to relieve my wife’s pain. By trying to ignore such nagging impressions, I somehow only end up fixating on them all the more. 
 
If I am in a more existential mood, which does not mix well with my Black Dog, I am troubled about why I seem to be surrounded by such petty and vindictive people, or I brood over the fact that someone I have loved had no use for me. 
 
No good ever comes from any of this, and it is because I am concerned about external conditions over which I have very little control. In the meantime, I am overlooking the improvement of my estimation, which is ultimately the only thing I can truly call my own. 
 
Would I not be better served by modifying my judgments instead of fiddling with the circumstances? That way, I might learn to be at peace with any events, not merely being bound to the most agreeable outcomes. 
 
I don’t come across a frightened deer too often in my neck of the woods, though I have gotten to know a jittery dog on my street, who slinks away with a look of abject terror in his eyes whenever I walk around the corner. I find him amusing, even as I am really no better when it comes to managing my foolish anxieties. 
 
I am still working on the bad habit of thinking I am “winning” when things go my way, and “losing” when I can’t seem to catch a break. My success or failure, as a human being, have nothing to do with what amounts to little more than luck. 
 
As I grow more and more cautious about the ways of the world, I am blindly supposing that my principles, my basic standards of meaning and value, are somehow sound. That confidence is unjustified, for I could fix so many of my problems, right here and now, if I were simply more vigilant about the content of my character. 
 
The other day, I suddenly caught myself feeling like a big man for being given a new class to teach. Before I knew it, I was spouting some snide remarks about those who had been passed over for the job. We think it is harmless to brag, but I should prefer to be happy with no work at all before I choose to degrade my fellows. 
 
Yet if the boss decides to change his mind, won’t I go back to feeling distressed? Once again, I have my confidence and caution thoroughly mixed up. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001