From everything that happens in the universe it is easy to praise providence, if one has within him two things: the faculty of taking a comprehensive view of the things that happen to each person and a sense of gratitude. For, otherwise, one will either fail to recognize the usefulness of what has come about, or else fail to be truly grateful if one does in fact recognize it. (Discourses 1.6.1-2)
Psychological resilience is a by-product of Stoic practice; it is part of the good flow or well-being (eudaimonia) a Stoic practitioner experiences as a result of developing an excellent character (virtue). In his expression of the dichotomy of control, found in Enchiridion1, Epictetus contrasts the psychologically resilient Stoic with those who have a troubled mind—those who will be hindered, lament, and blame gods and humans for their troubles. Simultaneously, Epictetus declares that “no harm can affect” the Stoic who has developed a resilient mind. Nevertheless, as he points out, the development of a resilient mind requires significant effort and change in our lives. People have troubled minds because of their thoughts, desires, and intentions. As I have written before, Stoicism is not a topically applied balm we can use occasionally to make us feel better. Instead, it is internal medicine and it requires constant attention and practice. Stoicism works from the inside out, beginning with our thoughts, desires and aversions, and intentions to act. Progress depends on our willingness to turn over the soil of our psyche to disrupt the roots of our entangled thoughts, so we can plant new seeds that can grow into new patterns of thinking. In the above passage from the Discourses 1.6, we see two elements that are necessary to develop psychological resilience: a comprehensive view of things, and gratitude.
A Comprehensive View of Things
The first part of Epictetus’ prescription for psychological resilience involves developing a cosmic viewpoint. The cosmic viewpoint allows us to escape our human-centered view of things and events and the judgments associated with that limited perspective. Life is not easy. Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet, we all must face the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” However, there is good news. Stoic practice equips us to “take arms” against that “sea of troubles” we call life; it prepares us “to be” despite life’s vicissitudes that may cause us to question whether it is better “not to be.” To begin, we must abandon our limited human perspective and view events as if from above. The “view from above” is more than a view from a distance that trivializes things and events on Earth. The cosmic viewpoint teaches us to accept the cosmos as a holistic organism, where events have a purpose that is larger than our human-centered view of things typically allows us to see.[1] From this cosmic perspective, seemingly tragic events are neither good nor evil. Instead, these events are simply the way our purposeful cosmos is bringing about what is best for the whole. As practicing Stoics, we can use the cosmic viewpoint to transcend the false expectations which cause a troubled mind. As I wrote in a previous post,
Once we understand the nature of the cosmos and our place in it, we begin to understand that external events are neither good nor bad, in a moral sense, because they are beyond our control. The only events that have moral implications for us are those we can control—our judgments. External events cannot harm our inner Self; only our thoughts about events can.[2]
Epictetus makes this point succinctly:
It isn’t the things themselves that disturb people, but the judgements that they form about them. (Enchiridion 4)
Pierre Hadot considers the cosmic viewpoint the beginning of Stoic practice. He writes,
Putting theory into practice begins with an exercise that consists in recognizing oneself as a part of the Whole, elevating oneself to cosmic consciousness, or immersing oneself within the totality of the cosmos. While meditating on Stoic physics, we are able to see all things within the perspective of universal Reason. To achieve this, we must practice the imaginative exercise which consists in seeing all human things from above.[3]
When we are confronted with events that might appear unsettling, disturbing, or even tragic, we are wise to take a step back and try to envision those events from a cosmic viewpoint. From the perspective of the whole cosmos, those events can take on an entirely different meaning. No matter how tragic the events may appear, we will be wise to recall the famous aphorism:
Things turn out best for those who make the best of the way things turn out. (source unknown)
If we make the best of the way things turn out, we may be able to see purpose in those events. From the cosmic viewpoint we can relinquish our anthropocentric judgments of those events and learn to develop an attitude of gratitude for everything that happens in our lives. For those who may be inclined to claim, “That’s just a placebo!” Maybe, but what is the alternative? While others are stomping their feet, screaming, crying, and venting their anger at the universe and humans (Enchiridion 1), the Stoic who adopts a cosmic viewpoint can assume all events have some greater purpose and make the best of them. Will they not be far better off for doing so? If this is nothing more than a placebo, it is a damn good one. To those who then claim, “Well, I can’t make myself believe the world is providentially ordered.” Agreed, but you can allow yourself to live as if it is and see what happens. After all, you are probably quite familiar with what it feels like to believe that tragic events are random, meaningless accidents. Or have you fully considered what you actually believe and the ramifications of those unexamined beliefs? Are you living as if the universe is a random accident? How is that working out for you? Are you willing to consider an alternative approach? What if you could replace the anger and sadness you still carry from those unsettling, disturbing, and tragic events that occurred in your life? What if you could see those events from a perspective that allowed healing and provided a sense of meaning because those events actually had a purpose? That is what the cosmic viewpoint can do for you if you are willing to adopt it.
Stoics do not simply attempt to put a positive spin on events. Instead, Stoics seek to understand the nature of reality, human nature, and humankind’s place within Nature. The cosmic perspective helps us deal with life’s vicissitudes. How? By teaching us to limit our concerns to what is “up to us”—our judgments of events—and to love what we cannot control. We can learn to love, rather than simply tolerate, the events of Nature by trusting they have a purpose and thereby provide our human lives with inherent meaning. From that perspective, we can transform our anger and resentment from past events into gratitude for all the events that occur in a rationally ordered, divine cosmos.
An Attitude of Gratitude
The second part of Epictetus’ prescription for psychological resilience in Discourses 1.6 involves developing a “sense of gratitude” for everything that happens. An attitude of gratitude distinguishes a love of fate (amor fati) from mere resignation and fatalism. How does a Stoic avoid resignation and learn to love fate? By choosing to see challenging events as opportunities for growth in virtue (excellence of character). Trials either make us bitter or they can make us better. The choice is ours. Consider this: What would Stoics do without the people on Facebook who annoy us, the inconsiderate drivers who cut us off in traffic, the thoughtless actions of our loved ones, the unreasonable demands of a boss or customer who does not appreciate us, the pains in our bodies, or the occasional tragedies visited upon us? How would we grow in virtue without these dispreferred indifferents to shape our character? How would we test or measure our growth without them? Finally, how much would we value virtue (arête) and well-being (eudaimonia) if they came easy, without much effort?
If we accept that unsettling, disturbing, and apparently tragic events beyond our control are going to happen, what would it look like to take our Stoic practice to the next level? What if we adopt an attitude of gratitude toward all those events that are “not up to us”? Imagine the psychological strength and equanimity that would spring from such an attitude. Marcus provides us with a wonderful example of an attitude of gratitude:
Everything suits me that suits your designs, O my universe. Nothing is too early or too late for me that is in your own good time. All is fruit for me that your seasons bring, O nature. All proceeds from you, all subsists in you, and to you all things return. (Meditations 4.23)
Marcus had that attitude of gratitude because he trusted that, “Nothing happens to anyone that he is not fitted by nature to bear” (Meditations 5.18.1). Epictetus also highlights that same attitude of gratitude toward what happens when he instructs us:
Don’t seek that all that comes about should come about as you wish, but wish that everything that comes about should come about just as it does, and then you’ll have a calm and happy life. (Enchiridion 8)
As Robert Emmons, professor of psychology at UC Davis, wrote in his book on the practice of gratitude:
In modern times gratitude has become untethered from its moral moorings, and collectively we are worse off because of this. When the ancient Roman philosopher Cicero stated that gratitude was the queen of the virtues, he most assuredly did not mean that gratitude was merely a stepping stone toward personal happiness. Gratitude is a morally complex disposition, and reducing this virtue to a technique or strategy to improve one’s mood is to do it an injustice.[4]
He argues that gratitude is typically considered a “feeling” in modern times. He refers to this as “gratitude lite” and argues this conception of gratitude diminishes its ability to positively affect our lives. He writes:
Accumulating evidence documents the wide array of psychological, physical, and relational benefits associated with gratitude. Yet I have come to the realization that by taking a “gratitude lite” approach we have cheapened gratitude. Gratitude lite does not do justice to its complexities. Gratitude is important not only because it helps us feel good but also because it inspires us to do good. Gratitude heals, energizes, and transforms lives in myriad ways consistent with the notion that virtue is its own reward and produces other rewards.[5]
Emmons relies on ancient as well as modern wisdom to support his assertion that gratitude allows us to step outside of our personal interests so we can see our part in a larger whole. This is reminiscent of Stoic cosmopolitanism.
Cicero, Seneca, Kant, and the other philosophers knew long ago what modern social science is now demonstrating. Gratitude takes us outside our scope so we see ourselves as part of a larger, intricate network of sustaining relationships, relationships that are mutually reciprocal.[6]
B. L. Hijmans Jr., the Dutch author of a detailed work on askesis in Epictetus’ educational system, highlights the connection between gratitude and the Stoic practice of following the will of divine Nature. He wrote:
If one attaches oneself to God he will be a faithful fellow-traveller (IV 1, 97-98). This attachment should show itself in applause and gratitude… This culminates in an attitude of complete surrender. Gratitude, however, is Epictetus’ strongest feeling toward God, and he often urges his pupils to it.[7]
We see in this passage that gratitude is more than a feeling for Epictetus; it is a by-product of a life lived in agreement with divine Nature (God). As Hijmans points out, while Epictetus notes that it is easy to praise providence if one adopts a cosmic viewpoint and develops an attitude of gratitude, “Conversely not to honor God’s workmanship is one of the most disgraceful things Epictetus can conceive of (cf. II 8, 21).”[8]
Secularized versions of Stoicism that ignore or redact the providential nature of the cosmos will have an extremely difficult time making sense of this attitude of gratitude toward all of the events of Nature. If the universe is truly the result of accidental collisions and pairings of mere matter, then all events that occur in our lives are truly the result of a long chain of accidental events. The universe is purposeless, and our lives are absent of any inherent meaning. In such a universe, when tragedy strikes, it is truly an accident. Under the influence of this worldview, whether it is assented to consciously or unconsciously, it is extremely difficult not to be upset or angry at the death of loved one, a diagnosis of terminal illness, a car accident that leaves us in a wheelchair, etc. The best we can hope for with this worldview is the strength to “bear and forbear” the unstoppable chain of causes that lead to the tragedy. However, anyone who reads the Stoic texts quickly realizes that is not where the Stoics stopped. As I argued in a previous episode, bear and forbear only gets us half the way there.
Grin and bear it “stoicism” is not the Stoicism Epictetus offers us in this prescription for psychological resilience. He claims we can “praise providence” for “everything that happens” if we follow his prescription. Let’s take a look at how that is possible.
The Stoics loved and embraced fate and the seemingly tragic events it brought into their lives. How? By trusting that the order we see so clearly in nature and within the cosmos entails some form of intelligence or universal Reason (logos) that orders it. If that is the case, then the cosmos has inherent purpose that is determined by that universal Reason. Therefore, it is reasonable for rational-minded humans to attempt to understand and live in agreement with the purpose of the cosmos. To accomplish that requires us to assume all events—even those that appear tragic—have a larger purpose. If that is the case, we are wise to embrace, love, and follow all events because they provide opportunities for character development and they are good for the whole even though they may be a dispreferred indifferent to us. That describes the fundamental attitude of the Stoic and developing that attitude of gratitude toward all events is one of the primary goals of Stoic practice.
How can we learn to adopt a cosmic viewpoint? Where do we begin to develop this attitude of gratitude? We begin where we are, with the events that occur in our lives. When a dispreferred event occurs, we must stop our typically instantaneous judgment of the impression that this event is something bad. Then, we can consider how we might be able to use this event to develop our moral character and thereby increase the virtue in the whole of cosmos in a small way. The event is neither good nor bad; however, our response to the event may be either. Our response to the event is the only thing “up to us.” Since we choose our response to the event, we determine whether that event is either good or bad for us. Finally, since we are part of the whole, our choice has a small impact on the whole of humanity and the cosmos. History highlights the fact that some of those who had the most profound impact on humanity as a whole are those who chose to take a seemingly tragic event or circumstances and make the best of it. Heroic figures turn apparent tragedy into transformational opportunities for themselves, and in some cases for a large segment of humanity as a whole. Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi provide us with two twentieth-century examples. That is cosmopolitanism in action and it begins with each of us as individuals as we face the events and circumstances in our lives and choose to step into a relationship of trust with the order and universal Reason of the cosmos.
That step is taken the moment we begin to embrace events and love them as if they are the product of a benevolent, providential cosmos. Then, we can ask ourselves how to make the most of each event even if it appears tragic from our limited human perspective. We step squarely into the greater good when we adopt the cosmic perspective and assume that all events can be meaningful and helpful to the development of our moral character (virtue). By doing so we help transform those apparently tragic events into fuel for the good of the whole. At first, we may be successful applying this practice only with small annoyances like a rude driver or a Facebook troll. However, with practice and development of our virtue, we can create transformational opportunities for ourselves, our family, local community, nation, or the whole of humanity.
Try out these attitude adjusters for common “dispreferred indifferents” we all face:
- Thank you, universe, for that annoying Facebook post. It was an opportunity for me to practice the dichotomy of control. (Enchiridion 1)
- Thank you, universe, for that aggressive driver, the pushy person in the checkout line, and the loud celebration at the park where I was attempting to meditate. They provided an opportunity for me to test my equanimity. (Discourses 4.24-27)
- Thank you, universe, for my inconsiderate loved one and ungrateful boss. They are teaching me how to accept all humans as my kin, because we all share fragments of the same divine mind and must learn to live together as we live in agreement with Nature. (Meditations 2.1)
- Thank you for that pain in my body, universe. It reminds me my existence is brief. It inspires me to live fully in each moment with focused attention on my thoughts and actions. It helps me remember that even though the song of my life is short, its melody will continue to reverberate in the lives that remain after my music stops. (Enchiridion 21; Meditations 4.23)
You can follow the examples above to create your own attitude adjusters. Additionally, as you go about your day and face the many “dispreferred indifferents” that will inevitably challenge your virtue and equanimity, keep Seneca’s words close at hand:
To fashion a [Stoic] who can genuinely be called a [Stoic], a stronger fate is needed. For him, the way will not be flat: he must go up and down, he must be tossed by waves, and must guide his vessel on a stormy sea. He must hold his course against fortune. Many things will happen that are hard and rough—but things he can soften and smooth out himself. Fire proves gold; misery, brave men [and women]. (On Providence 5.9)
Psychological resilience is a promise of Stoicism. As Epictetus teaches:
From everything that happens in the universe it is easy to praise providence, if one has within him two things: the faculty of taking a comprehensive view of the things that happen to each person and a sense of gratitude. For, otherwise, one will either fail to recognize the usefulness of what has come about, or else fail to be truly grateful if one does in fact recognize it. (Discourses 1.6.1-2)
This psychological resilience does not come quickly or easily; nothing of value does. The Stoic path teaches us to abandon our judgments of events that are derived from our limited human perspective. Only then, we can develop an attitude of gratitude for all the events that occur in our life. The choice is ours; we can allow life’s challenges to make us bitter or we can use them to make us better. Remember,
Whatever may come about, it is within [your] power to derive benefit from it. (Enchiridion 18)
ENDNOTES:
[1] See my interview with professor Tim Mulgan about his book Purpose in the Universe for a modern version of the philosophical argument that proposes cosmic purpose as an essential foundation for normative ethics.
[2] Chris Fisher, “Providence or Atoms,” Traditional Stoicism (blog), February 8, 2016, https://traditionalstoicism.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Providence-or-Atoms-a-very-brief-defense-of-the-Stoic-worldview.pdf.
[3] Pierre Hadot, What Is Ancient Philosophy? (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 2002), p. 136
[4] Robert A. Emmons, Gratitude Works!: A 21-Day Program for Creating Emotional Prosperity, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2013), p. v
[5] Emmons, pp. vi-vii
[6] Emmons, p. vii
[7] Benjamin Lodewijk Hijmans, Askesis: Notes on Epictetus’ Educational System (Van Gorcum, 1959), p. 16
[8] Hijmans, p. 16
