The Stoics often sought to demonstrate the importance of accepting events and circumstances that don’t depend on us.
To do the opposite, they said—to be discontented by things we can’t change—is to block our own progress. In other words, if we can’t accept a situation that we have no influence over, then we’ll be stuck. In more words, we’ll have given that situation the power to influence us.
The ancient teacher Epictetus explained this issue as follows:
How are people who don’t accept their situations punished? By remaining as they are.
Does someone find it hard to be contented on his own? Let him remain lonely.
Does someone find it hard to be contented with his parents? Let him remain a bad son and disconsolate.
Does someone find it hard to be contented with his children? Let him remain a bad father.
Throw him in prison. What prison? The one he’s in now. I mean, he doesn’t want to be where he is, and any place where someone doesn’t want to be is a prison for him.
We often wish we could control more in our lives—our relationships, our circumstances, our reputations, even the weather or the news. The irony is that we’re actually fortunate we can’t. If we were responsible for everything, our burden would be endless.
Per Epictetus, the fact that we only control our own use of thoughts and impressions is not a limitation but a gift:
Shouldn’t you rather give thanks to the gods for having allowed you to be beyond the reach of everything they made not up to you, and for making you accountable only for things that are up to you?
They released you from accountability for your parents, your brothers, your body, possessions, death, life. So for what have they made you accountable? Only for what’s up to you, which is the proper use of impressions.
So why are you taking on things for which you’re unaccountable? You’re just making trouble for yourself.
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These meditations are designed to be short enough to complete in ten minutes, but focused enough to enable useful self-reflection.
Over time, they build into a practice—a way of turning philosophy from something you occasionally think about into something you actually live.
This Stoic lesson—that our well-being depends not on our circumstances but on our response to them—finds a modern echo in the life of Frida Kahlo, the renowned Mexican painter who lived from 1907 to 1954.
Kahlo is widely recognized for her vivid, often haunting self-portraits, which conveyed the physical and emotional pain she endured throughout her life.
Despite facing immense challenges, including a near-fatal accident that left her with lifelong health problems, she refused to let her suffering define her. Her courage and determination in the face of adversity have made her a powerful symbol of perseverance and hope.
While enduring years of pain in her right leg—eventually amputated due to gangrene—Kahlo wrote in her diary:
Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?
In this line is the same inner strength the Stoics praised. Rather than lamenting what was beyond her control, she focused on what remained within her power: her spirit, her creativity, her will.
Even when bedridden, she adapted, using an adjustable easel to paint while lying down. She showed that even in confinement, our minds can still soar.
Epictetus, too, knew physical limitation. His leg was permanently damaged during his time as a slave, and yet he later taught not from bitterness, but from insight, experience, and wisdom:
Just bear in mind the distinction between what is and isn’t yours. Don’t ever lay claim to anything that isn’t yours. A podium and a prison are two different places, one lofty and the other low, but, in whichever of the two you find yourself, your will is unchanged if you’re prepared to keep it unchanged.
Kahlo and Epictetus, separated by centuries, demonstrated the same principle: we are not defined by what happens to us, but by how we respond. Both were forced into physical “prisons” of a sort—but neither allowed themselves to become prisoners of despair.
If we’re to take anything from their examples today, perhaps it’s this: no matter how Fate tries to tie you down or hold you back, thanks to your will—your wings—your ability to control yourself, there’s always a way to fly.
