Surrender

   As I've been honing my Stoic thinking process, the idea of surrender has thrust itself in my consciousness. Without delving too deep into this idea, let me show how I've begun to do it. Imagine a situation comes along where I make an incorrect judgement and feel the resulting emotion inside. My problem in the past is that I've dwelt on the mistake and feeling after they happen.

   The truth is that I was meant to make that mistake and feel that emotion because I had not corrected my thinking beforehand. (And sometimes your imagination just hurls false judgements upon you!) So instead of beating myself up, I am now trying to simply surrender to those thoughts/feelings and allow them to process and move along. This allows me to move forward with time and keep my mind clear.

    The lesson for me being that we can't avoid the backlash for living in discord with our nature. So just surrender to the consequences. What else can you do? If you don't wish to go down that path again, then set your mind to become what it wasn't before that happened.

Philosophical Punch in the Mouth Vol.3

From Epictetus' Discourses, Book 4  1:99-106

- 'How do you mean, attach himself?' So that whatever god wills, he wills too, and what god does not will, he does not will either. 'How, then, can this be achieved?' - Why, how otherwise than by considering god's purposes and his governance? What has he given to me to by my own and subject to my own authority? What has he reserved for himself? He has given to me whatever lies within the sphere of choice, and made that over to me free from all hindrance and restraint. This body formed of clay, how could he make that free from hindrance? And so he has made subject to the circulation of the universe my property, my furnishings, my house, my children, my wife. Why, then, shall I fight against god? Why do I will what is outside the reach of my will, to possess absolutely what is not granted to me absolutely? So how long shall I possess them? As they were granted to me, and for as long as possible. But he who gave takes away again. Why, then, do I resist? Not to say that I shall be a fool contending with one stronger than myself; but prior to that, I shall be doing wrong. For where did I get things when I came into the world? My father gave them to me. And who gave them to him? And who made the sun, who the fruits, who the seasons, and who the fellowship and intercommunion between men? And then, when you have received everything, even your very self, from another, are you angry with the giver and do you reproach him if he takes anything away from you? Who are you, and for what purpose have you come? Was it not he who brought you here? Was it not he who showed you the light? Has he not given you fellow-workers? Has he not given you senses? Has he not given you reason? And as what did he bring you here? Was it not as a mortal? Was it not as one who would live, with a little portion of flesh, upon this earth, and behold his governance and take part with him, for a short time, in his pageant and his festival? Are you not willing, then, for the time that is granted to you, to behold his pageant and his solemn assembly, and then, when he leads you out, will you not pass on your way, after paying him obeisance and offering him thanksgiving for what you have heard and what you have seen? 'No, but I wanted to enjoy the festival still longer.' So would initiates into the Mysteries like to be longer in their initiation, so perhaps would the spectators at Olympia like to see more athletes. But the festival is over. Leave it and depart like a grateful and modest person; make room for others. Others too must be born, as you were, and when they are born must have land and houses and the necessities of life. But if those who come first do not withdraw, what room is there left? Why are you insatiable? Why are you never satisfied? Why do you crowd the world?

A couple points:

1) I am a Pantheistic Stoic in that wherever I see God in Stoic text I just substitute Universe.

2) I see so many Stoic ideas in Christianity that it sometimes seems more than just a coincidence. IE: "But he who gave takes away again." (The lord giveth and the lord taketh away)

3) I love the oratory style of Epictetus. He pins you in a corner with rapid fire questioning that you simply don't have a counter answer for. 

Pain Analogy

     Pain. It needs no introduction. I just thought of an interesting way to think of it. Imagine a gasoline can or water can for plants. The can represents an incident of some kind that inspires pain. The water of the can represents the accumulated pain of that incident. The flow of the water out of the bucket represents the intensity of our pain. If we take some of the worst events of our lives, we will imagine that bucket being filled to the brim. Take that bucket and start pouring the liquid out of the spigot.

    Initially, the water flows out in a large and unsteady stream. The water can be whitish from all the air and jostling. Sometimes it will flow out in chunks because of air displacement. This opening period is when you feel the full fury and violence of the pain. 

    Then the water calms somewhat. However, there is still a very reliable and steady stream. You can see the transparency of the water as the flow remains consistent and strong. At this point in the pain game, people can get frustrated because of the persistence of sensation. There have been times in my life when I've wondered when it might end. 

    The next phase is when we still have a transparent stream but it breaks up into droplets towards the end. This signifies to me the light at the end of the tunnel where relief can be found.

    The second to last phase is when there are only droplets coming out of the bucket. The pain is just intermittent at this point. Life becomes just a little bit easier.

    And finally, the end has come when you take the bucket and turn it completely upside down to even see if you  can find any water at all. I've come to learn that this is not the time for celebration or satisfaction. Never own up to the fact that your pain is a bad thing. It is simply a challenge. An endurance challenge for the mind. One we can all win.

Hanging By a Thread

    By most accounts, I believe people are comfortable with accepting the pleasant side of what comes their way from fortune or fate. However, the reverses of fortune are not met with such an embrace. Why is this? One theory is that we suspend our belief about what reality has to offer us because, in the mean time, we don't want to think about the things we would prefer did not happen. This approach I will argue (as have others before me) is the worst of both worlds. The two criteria I will use to evaluate this approach are by how we see and treat a thing, a relationship, or an entity while we still share space and time with it and how we deal with its almost eventual absence.

    Let's look at the first situation or how I will call it, how much we appreciate something. The inevitable and literal outcome of thinking that something will always be yours (by denying you will ever be parted when you must) is simply taking something for granted. This is the state of not appreciating or enjoying something. The second scenario is what the response will be when we do lose something. Seeing that this occurrence is a broad departure from what we conceptualize, there is undoubtedly a shock in accepting these events.


    This is where the Stoic technique of negative visualization comes in. The premise of this technique is that we imagine the negative outcomes in our fates in order to prepare ourselves for these eventualities. Seneca argues that the shock is half the battle. On a side note, I don't think that negative visualization is the most apt term. What we're really doing is just realistically visualizing events. It's not a stretch to suppose that we envision the things we would prefer to happen without prompting ourselves. By creating mental space for the other possibilities, we are simply balancing our view of the future. We get the best of both worlds by being realistic since we can appreciate what we have when we have it and we can  prepare ourselves to be without it.


     The analogy that I use in balancing my thoughts is to imagine there being a tiny, thin thread that either holds something in my life or something (or myself) in existence altogether. This thread could snap at any moment and take everything and anything away at any moment...