What is up to us: the first lesson of Epictetus

Epictetus was born around the year 50 AD in Hierapolis in Phrygia, in today's Turkey, as a slave. His name in Greek simply means "acquired". In Rome his master allowed him to attend the lessons of the Stoic philosopher Musonius Rufus. Later, once freed, Epictetus opened his own school at Nicopolis, on the coast of Epirus, not far from today's Preveza.

He wrote nothing himself. His teaching was preserved by his student Arrian in two works: the Discourses and a short summary called the Enchiridion, meaning "handbook", a book you keep at hand.

The first sentence

The Handbook opens like this: "Some things are up to us, others are not." Up to us, Epictetus continues, are our judgements, our desires, our aversions; in a word, everything that is our own doing. Not up to us are our body, possessions, reputation, office; in a word, everything that is not our own doing.

The list may seem odd. How is the body not up to us? But Epictetus does not say we cannot influence these things. He says they are not entirely in our hands: we can look after our health and still fall ill; we can work honestly and still not be appreciated. What remains wholly ours is how we judge and how we act.

The archer chooses the bow, the arrow and the moment. Where the arrow lands is no longer up to him.

Cicero later used this image to explain Stoic ideas: the archer's aim is to shoot well, not necessarily to hit. He seeks the target, but he measures his success by the shot.

A common misunderstanding

Epictetus's distinction is often read as an invitation not to care: "it's not up to me, so it doesn't concern me". The Stoics thought the opposite. They looked after their families, took on public duties; Marcus Aurelius ran an empire. The aim was not to withdraw from the world but to put energy where it has an effect, and not to lose one's calm over what has none.

In our own time a version of this idea is known as the "Serenity Prayer", attributed to the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr: the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

An exercise for the evening

Epictetus and the other Stoics recommended reviewing the day. You can do it like this:

1. Write down one thing that troubled you today.
2. Split it into two columns: what in this situation was up to me (my words, my preparation, my reaction) and what was not (someone else's decision, the weather, the outcome).
3. For the first column, ask: did I act as I would have wished? What would I do differently tomorrow?
4. For the second column, tell yourself: this was not mine to decide.

The exercise does not make life easier. It makes it clearer. And for Epictetus, who knew the lack of freedom at first hand, that clarity was the deepest form of freedom a person can have.