A couple of years ago I ordered a new ladder from Bunnings with sufficient length to reach the roof of my house. On the day it arrived, I eagerly placed it against the wall of the house and choked one side with a strip of timber to level it before clambering up. Having reached the top of the ladder, I gingerly placed one foot on the roof and then swung the other foot across to follow suit. At that moment the ladder shifted when the timber strip at the bottom moved and left the ladder resting at an unsafe angle against the side of the house. As I looked down, the thought occurred that I might be able to hightail down the ladder before it toppled over. But as a 70 -year-old I had lost the agility of youth and could see myself crumpled on the patio tiles down below.
I have always prided myself on being a self-sufficient unit who was quite capable of dealing with emergencies without outside interference. As I contemplated my situation from the roof of my home, I realized that my ego was in for a battering. I could stoically remain on the roof for several hours until my wife came back from a trip to Launceston, or I could use my mobile phone - which just happened to be with me – to make an urgent call for assistance.
I took a deep breath while the early afternoon sun was reflecting its rays on the galvanized roof and dialed my neighbour across the road. Sylvester is mostly home but was missing in action on this urgent occasion. This left me with an urgent dilemma where I could spend several hours imitating the Fiddler on the Roof, or alternatively, I could dial someone else close by. No names came readily to mind as I fumbled through a list of people I knew. I was on the verge of disgracing myself completely by calling the fire-brigade thinking that because they rescue kittens from treetops, I would easily qualify as a subject that needed their expertise.
Just then, my next-door neighbour drifted into view, and, with a tremendous sense of relief, I called out to him. Jason was working nightshift and just happened to emerge from inside his house to be confronted by a desperate plea for assistance from above. He readily responded and after straightening and steadying the ladder, I clambered down the rungs feeling a tremendous sense of relief and gratitude.
This episode epitomizes my view of life where I cling onto the belief that I am in charge of operations and that asking for assistance is somewhat seen as a weakness to be overcome, if not totally avoided. I stoically cling to the idea that I am a self-contained entity which resists any attempt to come down from his high horse – in this case, high roof.
Being marooned on the roof provided me with the opportunity to reflect on how I deal with situations. I have a natural affinity for the Stoics whom I regarded as being fatalists, ascetic and passive people who put up and shut up when difficult life situations arise. But living stoically has nothing to do with being egotistical, self-sufficient and unfeeling. This book will explore how Stoicism in action is a well-rounded philosophy that can fit into one’s back-pack. It is more than just a survival kit but is very much a philosophy of growth that enhances every stage of life. I also pepper the book with examples of people who have shown Stoicism in their approach to life, sometimes in the most difficult of circumstances. There are many people close by who are very much in touch with their “inner Stoic” and whose lives are truly inspirational.
This text has deliberately avoided a chronological approach to the development of Stoicism from its beginnings. It attempts to locate other people whose lives bear a Wittgenstein “family resemblance’ to Greek and Roman Stoics. They all share an ethical commitment to life and the four principles of Courage, Temperance, Justice and Wisdom.