The Game of Life

1. This above all is the task of Nature—to bind and harmonize together the force of the appearances of the Right and of the Useful.

1. Above all, Nature’s task is to unite and harmonize the pull of what seems right and what seems useful.

2. Things are indifferent, but the uses of them are not indifferent. How, then, shall one preserve at once both a steadfast and tranquil mind, and also carefulness of things, that he be not heedless or slovenly? If he take the example of dice players. The numbers are indifferent, the dice are indifferent. How can I tell what may be thrown up? But carefully and skillfully to make use of what is thrown, that is where my proper business begins. And this is the great task of life also, to discern things and divide them, and say, “Outward things are not in my power; to will is in my power. Where shall I seek the Good, and where the Evil? Within me—in all that is my own.” But of all that is alien to thee call nothing good nor evil, nor profitable nor hurtful, nor any such term as these.

2. Things themselves are neither good nor bad, but how we use them matters. How, then, can we stay steady and calm while handling things carefully, without becoming careless or sloppy? We can follow the example of dice players. The numbers are neither good nor bad, and neither are the dice. How can I know what I will roll? But using whatever I roll carefully and skillfully is where my real responsibility begins. This is also the great task of life, to distinguish things and separate them into categories. We must say, “External things are not in my control. My choices are in my control. Where should I look for good and evil? Within myself, in everything that is truly mine.” But call nothing outside your control good or evil, helpful or harmful, or anything of that kind.

3. What then? should we be careless of such things? In no wise. For this, again, is a vice in the Will, and thus contrary to Nature. But be at once careful, because the use of things is not indifferent, and steadfast and tranquil because the things themselves are. For where there is aught that concerns me, there none can hinder or compel me; and in those things where I am hindered or compelled the attainment is not in my power, and is neither good nor evil; but my use of the event is either evil or good, and this is in my power. And hard it is, indeed, to mingle and reconcile together the carefulness of one whom outward things affect, with the steadfastness of him who regards them not. But impossible, it is not; and if it is, it is impossible to be happy.

3. What then? Should we be careless about such things? Not at all. This, too, is a fault in our will, and so goes against nature. Be careful, because how we use things matters morally. But remain steady and calm, because the things themselves are neither good nor evil. Where something is up to me, no one can hinder or force me. Where I can be hindered or forced, the outcome is beyond my control and is neither good nor evil. But how I use what happens is either good or evil, and that is within my control. It is indeed hard to combine two attitudes. We must show the care of someone affected by external things and the steadiness of someone unconcerned with them. But it is not impossible. If it were, happiness would be impossible.

4. Give me one man that cares how he shall do anything—that thinks not of the gaining of the thing, but thinks of his own energy.

4. Show me one man who cares how he does things. He thinks not about what he will gain, but about his own actions.

5. Chrysippus, therefore, said well—“As long as future things are hidden from me, I hold always by whatever state is the most favorable for gaining the things that are according to Nature; for God Himself gave it to me to make such choice. But if I knew that it were now ordained for me to be sick, I would even move to it of myself. For the foot, too, if it had intelligence, would move of itself to be mired.”

5. Chrysippus therefore put it well. “As long as the future is hidden from me, I always choose the course most likely to secure what accords with Nature. God himself gave me the ability to make that choice. But if I knew I was now destined to be sick, I would willingly move toward sickness myself. For a foot, too, if it had intelligence, would willingly move into the mud.”

6. For to what end, think you, are ears of corn produced? Is it not that they may become dry and parched? And the reason they are parched, is it not that they may be reaped? for it is not to exist for themselves alone that they come into the world. If, then, they had perception would it be proper for them to pray that they should never be reaped? since never to be reaped is for ears of corn a curse. So understand that for men it is a curse not to die, just as not to be ripened and not to be reaped. But we, since we are both the things to be reaped and are also conscious that we shall be reaped, have indignation thereat. For we know not what we are, nor have we studied what concerns humanity as those that have the care of horses study what concerns them. But Chrysantas, when just about to smite the enemy, forbore on hearing the trumpet sounding his recall; so much better did it seem to him to obey the commander’s order than to do his own will. But of us not one will follow with docility the summons even of necessity, but weeping and groaning the things that we suffer, we suffer, calling them our doom.⁴³ What doom, man? If by doom you mean that which is doomed to happen to us, then we are doomed in all things. But if only our afflictions are to be called doom, then what affliction is it that that which has come into being should perish? But we perish by the sword, or the wheel, or the sea, or the tile of a roof, or a tyrant. What matters it by what road thou goest down into Hades? they are all equal. But if thou wilt hear the truth, the way the tyrant sends thee is the shortest. Never did a tyrant cut a man’s throat in six months, but a fever will often be a year killing him. All these things are but noise, and a clatter of empty names.

6. What do you think ears of grain are produced for? Isn't it to grow dry and ripe? And isn't the purpose of ripening to be harvested? They do not come into the world to exist for themselves alone. If they could think and feel, would it be right for them to pray never to be harvested? For ears of grain, never being harvested is a curse. So understand that never dying is a curse for human beings, just like never ripening or being harvested. But we are both the crop to be harvested and aware that we will be harvested. So we resent it. We do not know what we are. Nor have we studied human life as those who care for horses study their needs. But Chrysantas, just as he was about to strike an enemy, stopped when he heard the trumpet calling him back. He thought obeying his commander's order was far better than following his own wishes. Yet not one of us willingly answers even the call of necessity. Instead, we endure our suffering with tears and groans, calling it our doom.⁴³ What doom, man? If by doom you mean what is destined to happen to us, then everything that happens is our doom. But if only our sufferings count as doom, what is so terrible about something that began to exist coming to an end? But we die by the sword, the wheel of torture, the sea, a falling roof tile, or a tyrant. What does it matter which road you take down to Hades? They are all equal. But if you want the truth, the road the tyrant sends you down is the shortest. No tyrant ever took six months to cut a man's throat. But a fever will often take a year to kill him. All these things are just noise, a clatter of empty words.

7. But let us do as in setting out on a voyage. What is it possible for me to do? This—to choose the captain, crew, the day, the opportunity. Then a tempest has burst upon us; but what doth it concern me? I have left nothing undone that was mine to do; the problem is now another’s, to wit, the captain’s. But now the ship is sinking! and what have I to do? I do only what I am able—drown without terror and screaming and accusing of God, but knowing that that which has come into being must also perish. For I am no Immortal, but a man, a part of the sum of things as an hour is of the day. Like the hour, I must arrive, and, like the hour, pass away. What, then, can it matter to me how I pass away—whether by drowning or by a fever? for pass I must, even by some such thing. Now, this is what you shall see done by skillful ball-players. None careth for the ball as it were a thing good or bad; but only about throwing it and catching it. In this, then, there is rule, in this art, quickness, judgment: so that I may fail of catching the ball, even if I spread out my lap, and another, if I throw it, may catch it. But if I am anxious and nervous as I catch and throw, what kind of play is this? how shall one be steady? how shall he observe the order of the game? One will call “Throw,” “Do not throw,” and another, “You have thrown once.” But this is strife and not play.

7. But let us act as we would when setting out on a voyage. What can I do? I can choose the captain, the crew, the day, and the right opportunity. Then a storm breaks over us. But what does that have to do with me? I have done everything that was mine to do. The problem now belongs to someone else, namely the captain. But now the ship is sinking! What am I to do? I do only what I can. I drown without terror, screaming, or blaming God. I know that whatever comes into being must also perish. For I am not immortal, but a human being. I am part of the whole, just as an hour is part of the day. Like the hour, I must come, and like the hour, I must pass away. What difference, then, does it make to me how I die, whether by drowning or by fever? For I must die by something of that kind. Now, this is what you will see skilled ballplayers do. None of them treats the ball itself as something good or bad. They care only about throwing and catching it. Here there is discipline, skill, speed, and judgment. I may fail to catch the ball even if I spread out my clothes to catch it. Yet another player may catch it when I throw it. But if I am anxious and nervous while catching and throwing, what kind of play is that? How can anyone stay steady? How can anyone follow the order of the game? One player will shout, “Throw,” “Do not throw,” and another, “You have already thrown once.” But this is a quarrel, not a game.

8. Thus Socrates knew how to play ball. How? When he jested in the court of justice. “Tell me, Anytus,” he said, “how say you that I believe there is no God? The Dæmons, who are they, think you? Are they not sons of God, or a mixed nature between Gods and men?” And when this was admitted—“Who, do you think, can hold that mules exist, but not asses?”⁴⁴ And thus he played with the ball. And what was the ball that was there thrown about among them? Life, chains, exile, a draught of poison, to be torn from a wife, to leave children orphans. These were the things among them that they played withal; yet none the less did he play, and flung the ball with proper grace and measure. And so should we do also, having the carefulness of the most zealous players, and yet indifference, as were it merely about a ball.

8. So Socrates knew how to play ball. How? By joking in the court of justice. “Tell me, Anytus,” he said, “how can you say I believe there is no God? Who do you think the Dæmons are? Are they not sons of God, or beings of a mixed nature between gods and humans?” When this was admitted, he asked, “Who can believe that mules exist, but donkeys do not?”⁴⁴ This was how he played ball. And what was the ball they were tossing among them? Life, chains, exile, a cup of poison, being torn from his wife, leaving his children orphaned. These were the things they played with. Yet he still played, throwing the ball with grace and control. We should do the same. We should take as much care as the most dedicated players, yet remain indifferent, as though playing with a ball.