
You can see things so much, yet the universe may have decided otherwise.
To this "good intention" that we described in the previous lesson, you must associate, as the Stoics do, a "reserve clause" 1: Seneca :
“[…] for he
who does many things often puts himself in Fortune's power, [but] always to
remember her existence, and never to promise oneself anything on her security.
I will set sail unless anything happens to prevent me,
I shall be praetor, if nothing hinders me,
my financial operations will succeed, unless anything goes wrong with them.”
2
I recently came across a word I didn’t know, used by an economist 3. He didn’t describe himself as an optimist—in fact, he somewhat rejected the label—but as a possibilist. And I found the term remarkably accurate. It avoids the trap of naïve optimism—too sugary, too self-assured—and instead offers something more sober, more realistic. The optimist says: this will happen. The possibilist, on the other hand, qualifies: if all the conditions are met, then it is possible that this will happen. And I believe this nuance expresses exactly what the Stoic reserve clause conveys. You do what is within your power. You take the right actions, you direct your efforts. But you also know that you live in a vast, ever-shifting, complex world, a world governed by a greater order than yourself. And in this world, it is not your personal will that determines everything, but what the Stoics called the Logos, or Universal Reason.
This is never an excuse to sit on your hands—a far too common caricature of Stoicism. On the contrary, it’s a call to lucid action: to do everything that must be done, everything you can do, while knowing that the outcome is not yours to own, you create the conditions, you make room for what you hope for, without clinging to it, without losing yourself in it. Isn’t that precisely what Seneca offers us in the following passage? An active wisdom, grounded in reality, yet always aligned with the order of the world.
“The wise
man never changes his plans while the conditions under which he formed them
remain the same; therefore, he never feels regret, because at the time nothing
better than what he did could have been done, nor could any better decision
have been arrived at than that which was made;
yet he begins everything with the saving clause,
‘If nothing shall occur to the contrary.’ This is the reason why we say that
all goes well with him, and that nothing happens contrary to his expectation,
because he bears in mind the possibility of something happening to prevent the
realization of his projects. It is an imprudent confidence to trust that
fortune will be on our side. The wise man considers both sides: he knows how
great is the power of errors, how uncertain human affairs are, how many
obstacles there are to the success of plans. Without committing himself, he
awaits the doubtful and capricious issue of events, and weighs certainty of
purpose against uncertainty of result. Here also, however, he is protected by
that saving clause, without which he decides upon nothing, and begins nothing.”
4
Your
intention must be true,
deep
and firm.
Regardless of all imponderables, your will is strong
and your spirit is always conquering.
If the All wills otherwise, you must first arm yourself with this reserve clause, and then yield, should the enterprise fail.
And those adversities, failures, are an opportunity to exercise your consent with destiny. Pierre Hadot 5 explains, "The failure of a certain action does not disturb our serenity, because this failure does not prevent the action from being perfect in its essence, in its intention, and gives us the opportunity to undertake a new, more suitable action, or to discipline our desire by accepting the will of destiny."
But before
failure itself, should it occur,
this reserve clause invites you to engage in an exercise in reasonable
foresight. It is an exercise that has to do with disciplining desire.
The reserve
clause allows you to prepare yourself psychologically for the possibility of
disappointment, but also to remain free internally by getting used to the fact
that what you strive for in everyday life
can elude you.