Stoic Vespers for Sunday, November 15, 2026


Return to This Day's Index
The Enchiridion of Epictetus
V

Men are disturbed not by things, but by the views which they take of things. Thus death is nothing terrible, else it would have appeared so to Socrates. But the terror consists in our notion of death, that it is terrible. When, therefore, we are hindered or disturbed, or grieved, let us never impute it to others, but to ourselves—that is, to our own views. It is the action of an uninstructed person to reproach others for his own misfortunes; of one entering upon instruction, to reproach himself; and one perfectly instructed, to reproach neither others nor himself.

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

Return to This Day's Index