Epictetus said we should focus on what’s in our control. I’ve been turning that over in my mind these past few days. It’s advice from a man who spent much of his life in slavery and exile. If anyone understood limits, it was him.
Last week, a tragedy happened at my university. Charlie Kirk, the political firebrand, was killed while speaking to thousands in attendance. It was Wednesday at noon. Classes were cancelled for the rest of the week.
On Thursday and Friday, I drifted. I sat at my computer, phone in hand, scrolling through news, half-reading takes and updates. I hadn’t seen the event in person, but by Wednesday night I had already watched too many videos and images online. The more I lingered, the more the algorithm sent me. It got darker and darker.
By the weekend I felt emptied out, stuck in worry about what might come next. The thought of stepping back into the classroom and facing conversations with students filled me with dread.
That’s when Epictetus’s words returned: “The more we value things outside our control, the less control we have.”
So I started pulling back. I deleted X from my phone. I put on music. I took my dogs outside. I spent time with my family. And finally, I drew.
Drawing is one of the few things that steadies me. It gathers my attention into something small and tangible. It gives shape to my days when everything else feels chaotic.
I am not unique. Artists have always lived through hard times—wars, plagues, upheavals—and still, they made work. I take some solace in knowing they managed to face tragedy by holding fast to what they knew best: their work.
I don’t know what will come next in the world or even on my campus. But I do know I can choose to draw, to be with my family, to step outside with my dogs. That is what I can hold onto. The rest, I have to let burn away.
Thank you for this, Chris.