What Epictetus Meant by "Remove Desire Entirely"

“As for desire, give it up completely for the time being.”
— Epictetus

You've read the line. Epictetus tells his students to "remove desire entirely" — and something in your brain short-circuits. Because you hear desire and think cravings. Appetites. The stuff you're ashamed of. And if that's what he meant, it's terrible advice. You can't just switch off wanting things. That's not how the mind works.

But that's not what he meant. Not even close.

Listen to the full episode above, or read on for the key ideas and a practice you can try today.

The word isn't "craving." It's orexis.

Epictetus uses a technical Stoic term — orexis — that means something very specific. It's the soul reaching toward a particular outcome with the expectation of getting it. The opposite, ekklisis, is the soul recoiling from something with the expectation of avoiding it.

Neither of these is about food, your phone, or your Netflix habit. Orexis is what happens when your mind reaches out toward a result and says: I need this to happen in order to be okay.

That's the desire Epictetus wants you to remove. Not the wanting itself — the staking of your peace on getting what you want.

I felt this recently. I was driving to pick up my son — he's been having a rough time with school, some mornings are a fight — and I noticed this clenched feeling in my chest before I'd even arrived. I was running scenarios. What if he won't get ready? What if there's drama? What if everything kicks off?

And underneath all of that was an orexis. It sounded like this: I need this morning to go smoothly. I need him to cooperate. I need it to work.

Every one of those outcomes was outside my control. His mood, his mum's mood, whether he'd go to school without a fight — all externals. But I'd quietly made a contract: if these things happen, I'll be okay. If they don't, I won't be. Reality never signed that contract.

Three levels — and most people are stuck on the first

There's a progression here that most Stoic readers miss, because they jump straight to what they think the answer is.

The demand is where most of us live. "He must go to school. The morning must be smooth. If it isn't, this is a disaster." That's orexis at full power — desire fused to an outcome you can't control. Epictetus would say this is the root of every disturbance you've ever felt. Not because reality is cruel, but because you made a demand it was never obliged to meet.

Indifference is where most people think Stoicism lives. "I don't care whether he goes to school. I don't care whether the morning is good or bad." This is completely wrong. No Stoic father would say that. The Stoics called things like education and health proēgmena — preferred indifferents. Things worth pursuing. Things you're supposed to pursue. You don't stop caring.

Preference with reservation is what Epictetus is actually teaching. "I'd like him to go to school. I'll do everything I can to make that happen. But if it doesn't work out, I'll deal with that too." You still care. You still try. But your inner state isn't hostage to the result.

Feel the difference between those three in your body. The demand feels like tension — gripping, bracing. Indifference feels like numbness — you've checked out. Most people bounce between those two and think they're the only options.

The preference feels lighter. Open. You'd like this. You'll work toward it. But you're not clenched around it.

That unclenching is what "remove desire" means.

Why Epictetus says to do this first

There's a reason this is the beginner's work, not the advanced stuff. In Discourses 3.2, Epictetus basically tells his students: you're not ready to desire correctly yet. Desiring only virtue and nothing else — that's the sage's skill. That's the finish line. You're nowhere near it. Neither am I.

But what you can do right now is stop reaching for things that aren't up to you and being wrecked when you don't get them. The orexis runs in the background like a programme you forgot was open. You don't even realise it's shaping your mood until something goes wrong and the frustration seems to come from nowhere.

I drove to pick up my son that morning and I was clenched the whole way there. I knew the theory. I teach the theory. And I was still doing it. But I caught it. Which is the whole game, really. You catch it, you release it, you refocus on what you can actually do. And then tomorrow you catch it again. That's not failure. That's Stoic practice.

A practice to try today

When to use it: The next time something doesn't go the way you want — someone's late, a plan falls through, your kid won't cooperate, the train is cancelled.

What to do: Before you react, pause. Notice what's underneath the frustration. Not the event — the expectation. Ask yourself one question: Am I carrying a demand right now, or a preference? The demand sounds like: this shouldn't be happening. The preference sounds like: I wish this were different, but I can work with this.

What to notice: Whether the frustration loosens once you name the demand. It usually does — not because the situation changes, but because you've stopped clenching around an outcome you were never able to guarantee.