“Be not angry with outward events, for they care nothing for it.” -Euripedes
Natural to the human experience inside a big, indiscriminate world is the sense of feeling out of control—of feeling that the reality of present circumstances is at direct odds with our desires. Our atomic existence on the grand scale makes us highly susceptible to such a feeling. Difficult as it can be to accept at times, life often dictates us—more specifically, the bounds within which we can operate (though not the degree to which we can operate within them), and is wholly uninterested in our plans or preferences. Living well in a brutally objective world requires acutely developed, routinely-evaluated clarity in two things: that which lies within our control, and that which lies outside of it. Once identified, the work then becomes to direct our energy accordingly.
For the person who’s been exposed to any amount of self-development material, the concept of focusing on what’s within one’s control is not a novel one. In fact, overexposure to a superficial version of the concept may desensitize us to it entirely, as it's not merely a matter of focusing on what you can control, but of actively choosing to not emotionally attach yourself to anything you can’t.
A high-functioning understanding of control looks as follows: emotionally aligning yourself only to that which directly relates to your own actions.
“In our school, we picture the philosopher’s goal more or less as follows: bring the will in line with events, so that nothing happens contrary to our wishes and, conversely, nothing fails to happen that we want to happen. Pursue it, and the reward is that neither desire nor aversion will fail in their aims; and we will fill all our roles in society—as son, father, brother, citizen, man, woman, neighbor, fellow voyager, ruler or ruled—without conflict, fear or rancor.” -Epictetus
One of the defining characteristics of the Stoics was an unwavering commitment to focusing only on what was in their direct control—their will, their actions, their effort. Epictetus, an enduring slave-turned-highly influential philosopher, furthers the concept in his discourses by positing that our goal is to bring the will in line with events. In other words, we’re to not only reserve our energy for that which is under our direct control, but to also strive to align our desires to whatever naturally occurs. We’d be hard-pressed to identify an approach to life more likely to enable contentedness.
At first reading, Epictetus’ quote can seem quite extreme, implying the possibility of a world in which "nothing happens contrary to our wishes and, conversely, nothing fails to happen that we want to happen.” The key here, as expressed in Sam Torode’s modern interpretation of Epictetus’ works, The Manual: A Philosopher's Guide to Life, is to only desire what is in your power to attain, and correspondingly, to only be resistant to what is in your power to avoid.
While assuming such a default state of acceptance is not easy, it starts with the critical task of identifying what is within our power and what is not, as specifically as possible. We then need to determine what certain realities mean for us, practically.
What does it mean for me if _____ does or doesn’t happen? What does it mean for what I do/how I operate now?
Projecting ourselves into the realities about which we’re anxious enables us to face the present more calmly and rationally, laying the obvious things bare. It’s worth emphasizing that effectively engaging the tool of projection in this way requires painstaking honesty and specificity about the matters we’re actually facing. In doing this, we expose the futility of fixating on that which is outside of our control (nothing changes, and you’ve only increased your stress), and the freedom granted by the opposite.
Chaos or calm, the question worth asking ourselves remains the same: what do my circumstances free me to do? Not what have they taken away, not what have they made harder—what do they free me to do? Affecting our sense of control starts with a simple inversion of what’s immediately presented to us. It’s easy to sulk over the obvious: what’s been taken from us, the plans that’ve been upended. Recognizing what your circumstances free you to do, however, requires more cognitive creativity, equipping you with a distinctly different appreciation lens. A healthy view of control allows you to look around and see what’s there, instead of what’s missing.
Few find the gift in catastrophe. The Stoics spoke of "invoking our own submerged inner resources" to turn circumstances to our advantage. In other words, we’re to devote our attention to the part of the catastrophe we control: what we do with whatever it brings. The well-documented concept of the locus of control and its impact needn’t be limited to catastrophic situations, however. A developed understanding of control allows for a detachment from the reception of others. Epictetus captures this concept well when he describes the performer who succumbs to nervousness before the audience, so consumed with how he’ll be perceived that his performance is compromised. We can extend this image beyond the traditional stage performer and into the corporate professional giving a presentation, nervously stumbling through what could’ve been a powerfully-communicated set of informative insights. "That’s natural," we’re inclined to think. "People get nervous!” As always, we can entrust philosophy with exposing the fault in our unchecked conditioning.
“Whenever I see a person suffering from nervousness, I think, well, what can he expect? If he had not set his sights on things outside man’s control, his nervousness would end at once.” -Epictetus
Think for a moment about the implications of the definition put forth by Epictetus above, that of nervousness being a byproduct of aligning yourself emotionally to that which is in the direct control of another: others' perception of you. And this is where the sphere of control crosses the threshold from conceptual to concrete. A well-developed understanding of control illuminates its relevance to things as commonplace as our daily interactions and engagements.
Does a healthy awareness of and regard for how others will receive something play a role in our efforts? Yes (and it should). Tact and wisdom look like knowing your audience, informing your preparation and delivery accordingly.
We prepare, we create, we deliver, and the rest is outside of us.
Effectively focusing on what’s within one’s control has the power to free us from anxiety’s grip, in ways big and small. In work, did we show up for what we’re responsible for? In communication, am I being as clear as possible? Am I putting out the highest quality version of my craft? Commitment to that which is in our direct control (preparation, intention, awareness) is often what enables our best performance, as well as our inner peace afterward.
Practically speaking, we should be consistently growing in our knowledge of areas in which a deepened understanding may prove valuable. Inasmuch as we can anticipate things (and philosopher Seneca advises us to anticipate the possibility of all things), adequate preparation can be our greatest strength. The more we lean into the aspects of our life that are under our direct control—our preparedness, our effort, our actions—the better we’ll be able to withstand that which inevitably isn’t.
When it comes to our attachments to people, a heightened awareness of our sphere of control allows us to be untethered from the actions or inaction of another. It can free us from the stains of shame, reminding us that all we need take responsibility for is what’s in our direct control, recognizing the acts of another to be distinctly separate from us. It means that while we may place expectations on others, our contentment isn’t placed in whether they’re fulfilled.
“Another does me wrong? Let him look to that; he has his own disposition, and his actions are his own. For my part, I presently have what universal nature wills that I should have, and I am doing what my own nature wills that I should do.” -Marcus Aurelius
A right view of control, of your own will and opportunities before you, enables an empowered position. It’s the difference between allocating your energy toward thinking of and acting on what you get to do, instead of toward that which can’t presently be changed—the pleasant irony being that it’s precisely the individuals who operate from the empowered position who tend to produce the changes they seek, personally or beyond.
In any and every season, may we strive to approach our lives from the empowered position, acutely aware of and acting upon that which we’re able to do.