When things seem to fall apart 

“Everything just feels like it’s falling apart, like we’re spinning out of control,” lamented an otherwise typically cheerful friend as we stared at each other over Zoom. “I’m tired of trying to fight the good fight. It used to seem like if I tried to be good and do good, it would make a difference. Now, I’m just tired.” 

Virtue fatigue 

I think a lot of us are feeling virtue fatigue against the backdrop of the pandemic’s ineluctable tragedies and uncertainty mixed with political chaos. 

As for myself, I’ve been uncommonly angry. Puzzled, I sought the source of this emotion for which in better times I’d have a ready corrective Stoical perspective. I discovered the root, and it’s not pretty. 

Waiting for virtue’s rewards 

I’m embarrassed to admit, but deep down I put stock in the perennial fairy tale that if we are good girls and boys, we will receive some kind of just reward doled out by God, the universe, Nature —call it what you will—who is figuratively writing down the quality of our actions in some big ledger then telling Herb in Accounting to cut us a check. I’d love to seem more philosophically sophisticated, but pandemics can really test us. 

Time for an Epictetus inoculation 

So, it’s time for an Epictetus inoculation. 

For every event that happens in the world it is easy to give thanks to Providence, if a person has but these two qualities in himself: a habit of closely considering what happens to each individual, and a grateful temper. Without the first, he will not perceive the usefulness of things which happen; and without the other, he will not be thankful for them. 

Epictetus, The Discourses, 1.6 

Hmm, what does Epictetus mean by the usefulness of things? That phrase sounds coldly utilitarian, even ghoulishly opportunistic. What is the usefulness of this injustice, this tragedy, this loss, this sorrow? Epictetus furthermore links this inquiry into the usefulness of things to gratitude. Excuse me? 

We are not victims of circumstances 

But deeper consideration yields clarity. Of course: When we consider the usefulness of events, our attention shifts and with it our perspective in a more beneficial direction. Instead of being the passive target of events, we regain our agency. We are restored to a sense of wideranging possibility with all the optimism and alacrity that follow in its wake. 

Considering the usefulness of things, their application, perhaps the lessons contained in them, we are no longer hapless victims of circumstance. We shift from “what if?” to “suppose.” The what-ifs, as in “what if this happens?” or “what if that happens?” tend to draw us to calamitous conclusions. But suppose, its more relaxed cousin, is a positive, generative place to dwell; it’s dreamy and optimistic. It moves us forward to resourcefulness, to the potential for action that upgrades rather than degrades. 

With hope comes vigor 

When we move into action, hope returns. With hope comes vigor. With hope and vigor we can make things: we can make music, make art, make money, make love, make social change, make someone happy, make amends, make peace. We have moved into caring. Caring is a powerful place to hang out. What does caring produce? It yields quality craftsmanship, loving relationships, excellence in whatever you are doing in the moment. Caring vanquishes meaninglessness. 

And when life is once again filled with meaning, regardless of what is going on around us or in the world at large, gratitude springs forth leaving a song in our hearts. 

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Sharon Lebell is the author of The Art of Living and is a member of our Advisory Board. 

 

 

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