Marcus Aurelius (121 CE – 180CE) was a Roman Emperor and follower of the Stoicism, a philosophical tradition that prizes virtue and fortitude amid life’s challenges. Widely considered a wise ruler, Marcus Aurelius leaves behind a precious volume of his own reflections titled “Meditations.” I read this book many years ago while backpacking through Europe. Its insights and honesty impressed me deeply. Although he ruled an imperial superpower, Marcus Aurelius cultivated a self-awareness that surpassed his station. Whereas others in his place were drunk with power, Aurelius remained sober in his perspective, never succumbing to indulgence, never forgetting the impermanence of grand enterprises. In his notes we see a man who bristled against the machinations of court, who grew weary of war and intrigue. He remained committed to the cultivation of virtue in conditions most hostile to its development.
I turn to Meditations often to ponder its wisdom. Each passage has something to offer. There is a sternness to its admonishments. Marcus Aurelius pressed himself to look at life in its entirely; he did not entertain the temptation to shirk life’s demands. His unremitting courage is exemplary and instructive in our own turbulent times. Here, I present a sampling of passages from Meditations and follow each with my own reflections.
When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly. They are like this because they can’t tell good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own – not of the same blood or birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness.
Jean-Paul Sartre famously said that “hell is other people.” The behaviour of others can knock us off-kilter. We should perhaps know by now that others often act atrociously, but the experience of their unscrupulousness remains ever-so jarring, like a violation against a cosmic order. No part of us ever becomes fully impervious to the transgressions of others. However, the abrasions caused by people is merely a feature of togetherness. Those who cause me agitation and distress are neither corrupt nor depraved; they are simply themselves, doing the best they can given who they are and what they know. Conversely, as a person not yet finished nor fully formed, I will also chafe against others, causing them distress and frustration. Such is our lot in this fragile human life. In the sting of someone else’s carelessness, I am liable to cast them as villains, and I the hapless victim. In so doing, I draw lines that further isolate me from community. I may shelter myself from the injuries of shared life, but I also deprive myself of the joy that togetherness imparts.
By reminding myself that others will be “meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous and surly,” I return to what is a matter of course. This is not to see people negatively, as if to insist on their darkness over their light. Rather, it is inoculation against false naïveté. A person can be rude, but life itself has committed no offence. We all encounter assholes. We all endure the faults of others. Nothing is wrong, and this is no contravention of some universal pact. By reminding myself that people are simply who they are, I inhabit a larger context that holds everyone’s faults, mine included. I can take full possession of what remains in my sphere of control: emotional steadiness, level-headedness, and considerate action. The unscrupulousness of others can stoke my aspiration and refine my virtues. Far from diminishing my faith in humanity, they are inducements to excellence.
Duration: momentary. Nature: changeable. Perception: dim. Condition of Body: decaying. Soul: spinning around. Fortune: unpredictable. Lasting Fame: uncertain. Sum Up: The body and its parts are a river, the soul a dream and mist, life is warfare and a journey far from home, lasting reputation is oblivion. Then what can guide us? Only philosophy. Which means making sure that the power within stays safe and free from assault, superior to pleasure and pain, doing nothing randomly or dishonestly and with imposture, not dependent on anyone elses’ doing something or not doing it.
The persistence of suffering has much to do with where we attribute the source of our pain. Many people stake their happiness on external factors: material wealth, career advancement, affirmation from peers. Others put their faith in health. All these factors are important to our wellbeing, but they are subject to the winds of change. Palaces built on sand are bound to topple. The security they provide are illusory at best. Heartbreak and disappointment are inevitable for those who rely on what is insubstantial.
Because nothing external provides reliable shelter, our only refuge lies in the cultivation of character and wisdom. At its heart, Philosophy is the love of wisdom. Its purview lies in the development of an interiority that is equal to the challenges of life, that transcends the grip of fate. Wisdom is what holds us steady within even as the vicissitudes of life batter us from without. A wholesome perspective about the nature of our task can guide us through the storm. Steadiness is a matter of inner poise rather than external control. Most of the problems in our lives have no ultimate answers; we must live into them, groping our way through darkness and integrating its mystery into our souls as we expand the horizons of interiority. It is by living the problems, engaging in their totality that our problems ferment into wisdom and understanding.
Character is the junction between wisdom and practice. Aristotle believed that we become temperate by performing temperate acts, just by performing just acts, courageous by performing courageous acts. Because our dispositions are not available to us in the same way that our actions are, we must lay down the stones we walk on by doing the actions that accrue to what we eventually become. If generosity is a virtue, we nourish that virtue by doing something generous. Offer to help. Give time and money to a worthy cause. Give attention to someone who craves an open ear. Virtue follows rather than precedes wholesome action. Our virtues comprise our character; character is the garden where our soul resides. Through a lifetime of actions, we inhabit what we become. Whether we bask in lush blossoms or wilt in the dessert is a matter of self-cultivation.
People try to get away from it all – to the country, to the beach, to the mountains. You always wish that you could too. Which is idiotic: you can get away from it anytime you like. By going within. Nowhere you can go is more peaceful – more free of interruptions – than your own soul. Especially if you have other things to rely on. An instant’s recollection and there it is: complete tranquility.
As the ruler of Rome, Marcus Aurelius worked without reprieve. The demands of governance must have sapped his spirit. Like others, he longed to escape to a quiet retreat. However, as the emperor, he could not easily extricate himself from office. Thus, the throne is also a prison. Many of us can identify with this predicament. We long for respite, but cannot leave due to pressing obligations. Parents, caregivers, teachers, nurses, doctors, each deal with unremitting burdens. There is neither time nor energy for retreat.
Here, Marcus reminds himself of the one sanctuary that affords true rest: his own interiority. Our inner life is our thoughts, emotions, memories, imagination and dreams. It is the subjective world that has knows neither time nor boundaries: it is our own universe within. The inner landscape can provide safe shelter from the chaotic world. In a moment of quiet recollection, we find rest in the sanctity of our own soul. In a world of incessant chatter and contest, silence is the ultimate luxury. However, with our eyes frazzled and our ears worn, we live with a warped sensory apparatus that registers silence as more deafening than din. Many are riveted to the screen, because even an hour of banalities is more tolerable than boredom. Thus, our inner world becomes a wasteland. In contrast, Marcus Aurelius insisted that his own soul remain a sanctuary. The care of his own soul required that he keep discipline in his thoughts, principled in his actions, and upright in his speech. The result is the refinement of his person, such that his own self is the ultimate prize.
Unlike Marcus Aurelius, few of us are rulers of vast empires. However, the challenges in our lives require us to rise to each occasion. Most times, life calls on us to muster more than what we have in store. These are the conditions for growth. In times where discourse descends into discord, when the fabric of shared life hangs by a thread, we need to embody the qualities that we want to see in the world. In this regard, Marcus Aurelius serves as a fine exemplar.