“A podium and a prison is each a place, one high and the other low, but in either place your freedom of choice can be maintained if you so wish.”
Epictetus, Discourses, 2.6.25
I can’t remember the source, or whether it is a true story or not, but I recently heard a story of two prisoners of war. One, an optimist, and the other a pessimist. The optimist did not fare well because he kept thinking “by Christmas, we will be freed.” and when that didn’t happen, “by Easter, we will be freed.” and so on. This optimist died from broken and dashed hopes while the pessimist (and I feel like pessimist isn’t the right description here) lasted much better because his expectations were rooted in the day to day and the getting through each day reserving his will to just stay alive.