Epictetus’s most powerful line is about how it’s not things that upset us, but what we think about things that does all the damage. What he really meant is that our sense of what an obstacle or a disadvantage or a trial is—our subjective understanding—is more powerful than the objective reality.
For instance, if you tell yourself that you were failed by your teachers and that’s why you’re not as smart as other people, for the rest of your life you’re going to have trouble learning and understanding things. It may be true that your teachers were less than adequate, but this story you’ve chosen to tell yourself is the true failure (and you can see how a person who tells themselves a different story about the same facts—’I attended underperforming schools but my hunger for learning allowed me to rise above it’ or ‘My street smarts make up for what I lack in education’—will do much better in life).
As Epictetus said:
“Sickness is an impediment to the body but not to the will unless the will wants to be impeded. Lameness is an impediment to the leg, but not to will. If you tell yourself this every time, you will find the impediment is to something else but not to yourself.”
And let’s not forget, he was saying this as a person whose leg was crippled (from his time as a slave no less)! He refused to see a physical impairment as something that changed who he was as a person. He refused to tell himself that depressingly myopic narrative, that he was somehow inherently broken or deprived as a result of this injury. Instead, you can see in his teachings that, over and over again, he chose to tell himself a bigger, better story: That he had learned how powerful he really was, that no person could stop or harm him, even if they tried.
That’s the narrative we want for ourselves. Yes, we have problems, but we are not the problem. We have flaws but we are not flawed. We might do something dumb but that doesn’t mean we are dumb. We decide what things mean. We decide what is actually an obstacle and what isn’t.
