I often sit in envy of the Stoics who were men of wealth and power who sought those things in a different form. It proves to me that human wealth is not enough, and human power does not wield that greatness of men. Instead, we can all find our true wealth and power in simplicity, in austerity, and in the common desire to be both happy and healthy in whatever life we are given.
Do I find my joy in the best schools when I work my life away to provide them? Do I find my happiness in the empty spaces left unfilled? Do I find wealth in the gold and ornate desires of my flesh?
The truth is, few things make me happier than being on a rocky trail somewhere, hearing the birds sing and the water rush over the fortunate stones become smooth in the current. I find few greater joys than dressing in my old shorts and shirts, putting on the muddy shoes worn well on the earth, the Sun baking down on my bronzed skin. Save the moments with my children, there is nothing like a sunrise to brighten my day, nothing like the excitement of reaching some marvelous destination created by the Higher Power of natural design.
What greater wealth would I find than feeling the splash of a waterfall on my warm flesh? None could I think of, other than the health that allows me to get there. What greater power would I have than that I wield over my tired body as the doubt creeps in, the rocks beneath me telling me stories of my demise? None could I think of, other than the silent glory of sitting in a place I would not be had I just listened to those stories.
Perhaps it is time to rewrite the Stoic prose to fit the plight of modernism, to work to end the flourishing seeds of the pathetic permission we give ourselves to be lesser than who we are. Perhaps we need to revisit the strength inside us all and rewrite the truth that suggests we are to be afraid, and only the greatest among us are to meet the mighty challenge. Who planted those seeds of doubt within us, and who are we to accept such mediocrity?
I refuse that poison. I refute the claim that I am lesser than a god. I challenge you to prove me wrong and, in turn, find the power beyond comprehension.
We can all rewrite our own story. First, we must realize that we are its author. We are holding the pen, deciding which character we are to be, and which pretense we shall live under. Cede that power if you choose, or grab it like a mighty sword and swing it for all it’s worth. Your choice. My choice. It belongs to no one else.