Here's what we think a philosopher's work should be: he must align his wishes with what's actually happening. That way, nothing that happens goes against what he wants. And nothing that doesn't happen leaves him wishing it would. When philosophers arrange their work this way, they don't fail to get what they desire. They don't encounter what they're trying to avoid. They live without anxiety, without fear, without being rattled. And they do this alongside other people, maintaining all their relationships — as son, father, brother, citizen, human being, wife, neighbor, fellow traveler, ruler, or the one being ruled. This is what we think a philosopher's work should look like. The next question is: how do you actually do this?
And here we conceive the work of a philosopher to be something of this kind: he must adapt his wish ([Greek: boulaesin]) to what is going on, so that neither any of the things which are taking place shall take place contrary to our wish, nor any of the things which do not take place shall not take place when we wish that they should. From this the result is to those who have so arranged the work of philosophy, not to fail in the desire, nor to fall in with that which they would avoid; without uneasiness, without fear, without perturbation to pass through life themselves, together with their associates maintaining the relations both natural and acquired, as the relation of son, of father, of brother, of citizen, of man, of wife, of neighbor, of fellow-traveller, of ruler, of ruled. The work of a philosopher we conceive to be something like this. It remains next to inquire how this must be accomplished.