Stoic Lauds for Sunday, March 15, 2026


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The Enchiridion of Epictetus
XII

If you would improve, lay aside such reasonings as these: “If I neglect my affairs, I shall not have a maintenance; if I do not punish my servant, he will be good for nothing.” For it were better to die of hunger, exempt from grief and fear, than to live in affluence with perturbation; and it is better that your servant should be bad than you unhappy.

Begin therefore with little things. Is a little oil spilled or a little wine stolen? Say to yourself, “This is the price paid for peace and tranquillity; and nothing is to be had for nothing.” And when you call your servant, consider that it is possible he may not come at your call; or, if he does, that he may not do what you wish. But it is not at all desirable for him, and very undesirable for you, that it should be in his power to cause you any disturbance.

The Enchiridion of Epictetus - translated by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
Examination of Conscience
If this is your last Hour you plan to follow today, the now is a good time for the Examination of Conscience.
Also do this if it is the first Hour you are following today you forgot to do yesterday's Examination of Conscience - now is a good time to do that, as it is better late than never.
Examination of Conscience can be done in the form of a journal - but that is not the only way to do it. You can do it mentally -- as long as you can make sure, without any external actions, that you are in fact doing it. Also - for practice sake, it can be done in dialogue with a mentor. But doing it with a mentor is only recommended for practice sake - and may not even be available to everyone at all.
Above all -- remember that the Examination of Conscience done here is the Stoic version of the concept and none other.
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Poem by William Ernest Henley, - obtained from poets.org

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