The Greek philosopher Epictetus said, “He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.”¹ When we achieve this kind of contentment, it is truly ours, because it comes from within us, independent of our circumstances.
An old Jewish folktale tells of a man who lived in a small house with six children, his parents, his in-laws, and four grandchildren. The noise, clutter, and confusion finally got the best of him and he went to his rabbi pleading for advice.
The rabbi told him to bring chickens into his house. This, of course, only made matters worse. When the man came back for more advice, the rabbi instructed him to bring in sheep, goats, cats, dogs, ducks, and a donkey.
Finally, the man returned to the rabbi barely holding onto his sanity. He had done what the rabbi had asked, but now everything was worse—much worse.
This time the rabbi told him to remove the animals. Once he did, he could not believe the order and serenity he felt inside his little house. He was, at last, content.
His house was still crowded—filled with the same noise, clutter, and confusion he had complained about before. But while the chaos surrounding him remained, the chaos inside him was gone.
Anyone who is determined can find hundreds of reasons to be miserable. It isn’t hard to find chaos in our lives. But aren’t there just as many wonderful reasons to be content?
In the end, what we focus on determines whether we live in chaos or contentment. The next time we feel miserable and unhappy, rather than dwelling on the discord and confusion in our lives, perhaps instead we can remember the words of Anne Frank, who, during her own time of trial, wrote, “Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.”²
Program #4047
¹Epictetus, fragment, 129, tr. George Long, 1890? Quoted in “Quotationary”, Leonard Roy Frank, Random House, New York, October 2001, p. 929
²http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/1858.htmlDiary entry March 7, 1944.