Wakefield

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  “In some old magazine or newspaper I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly stated, is not very uncommon, nor, without a proper distinction of circumstances, to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance on record of marital delinquency, and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may be found in the whole list of human oddities. The wedded couple lived in London. The man, under pretense of going a journey, took lodgings in the next street to his own house, and there, unheard of by his wife or friends and without the shadow of a reason for such self-banishment, dwelt upward of twenty years. During that period he beheld his home every day, and frequently the forlorn Mrs. Wakefield. And after so great a gap in his matrimonial felicity—when his death was reckoned certain, his estate settled...

Enchiridion 38: Protect Your Mind

"When walking, you are careful not to step on a nail or turn your foot; so likewise be careful not to hurt the ruling faculty of your mind. And, if we were to guard against this in every action, we should undertake the action with the greater safety." (Epictetus, Enchiridion 38)

Recently I saw a post where a barefoot runner asked his neighbors to clear the acorns off the sidewalks that lined his running route. His neighbors responses were (how shall we say), "insightful," such as "try wearing shoes" and the like. As a trail runner myself, I am tempted to contribute a thought or three, but my opinion is only that: an opinion (such as "embrace the suck, buddy. That's the joy of barefoot running.").


I recall visiting the Cayman Islands as a boy (above, napping after snorkeling in the cove) and how we had to wear shoes near the waterfront due the exposed coral that jutted it's sharp black teeth upward. No sand along the shore: just coral. How was it my friends could walk barefoot on the same ground that would destroy my tender feet? And that sand was hot! Their feet were tough. Calloused. Mine were not. It did not matter where they stepped, but I had to be careful. But they did too. No sense in stepping foolishly, no matter how tough the feet.

Then there's the proverbial (and not-so-proverbial) "pebble in the shoe." The other day my wife's walk across campus became tortuous as a tiny pebble found it's way into her shoe. Removing her shoe, she was amazed at how such a tiny grain could cause so much discomfort. The very next day a student entering her lab, removed his shoe and shook out a small rock.

I have a well-worn pair of running shoes that have a small tear in one side. Each time I go trail running, something gets into my shoes. So how do I fix the problem? I could not go trail running, or I could get a new pair of shoes. Same with how you use your mind. Perhaps you need not "go there" anymore and keep injuring our mind. Perhaps you need to change our mind about a matter altogether in order to protect it.

Why are you more likely to protect your feet, watching your steps, clearing rocks from your shoes, but when it comes to the mind you do so without care? If you were to think as you walk, wouldn't you keep our mind safe? Or maybe you like pebbles in your shoes.

You must take care how you use the mind, where you take it. 

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