Note to Self – Marcus Aurelius

From the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius

In the morning, when I don’t want to get up, I tell myself: rise to the work that makes you human. How can you complain, when you’re on your way, to play your part in the cosmic order, and do the things you’re here for? Or were you made to lie under a blanket, cosy and warm? Oh but it’s so nice! So you were born for comfort? To stay in bed, instead of acting in this world?

See the plants and trees, the little ants, birds, bees and spiders. All busy doing their work, each part of this magnificent cosmos. (5.1) Because if it isn’t good for the hive, it doesn’t do the bee any good either. (6.54)

What gives us joy is doing what is proper to mankind: to treat our fellow human beings kindly, to rise above our animal instincts, and to separate perceptions from objective reality. And above all, to contemplate the events that naturally build our universe. (8.26)

Today will be full of meddlesome, ungrateful, arrogant, fraudulent, envious, and antisocial people, but I remind myself that all this is due to their ignorance of good and evil. I have seen the nature of the good, and how it is noble; and of the evil, how it is ugly. I know that a wrongdoer is of the same nature as I am. Not through blood or birth, but because we share the same mind, the same spark of divine reason. (2.1)

Whenever someone mistreats me, I must first consider how their convictions about good and bad led to their error. So that I will be compassionate, and neither surprised nor angry. For either I share those views, and therefore excuse them; or I do not, in which case I will look upon their mistaken judgment in a better spirit. (7.26)

If someone’s shamelessness is upsetting, ask this question: is a world without shamelessness even possible? It is not, so stop demanding the impossible. This person is simply one of those shameless individuals that necessarily exist in the universe. The same goes for the unscrupulous and the faithless, or any other lost soul. Once you realize that such people are inevitable, it’s much easier to respond to them with kindness.

It may also be helpful to consider the qualities that nature has given us to meet such behaviour. For instance, as an antidote to rudeness, she gave us gentleness, just as there is a remedy for every other flaw. (9.42) I can instruct those who have lost their way, as long as I don’t shame or blame them, but do so with true sympathy, and without bitterness in my heart. Acting neither as a schoolmaster nor seeking admiration, but speaking as if in private, even when surrounded by a crowd.

Remember, we suffer much more from our own anger and sadness than from the things that cause them. (11.18) Besides, in what way have I been harmed? Nothing these people do can degrade my mind or character, (9.42) and what else could be damaged? They only harm themselves. (9.4) The best defense is not to become like them.(6.6)

Asia and Europe, little corners of the universe. All the seas, a single drop in the cosmos. Mount Athos, a tiny pebble from above. Each moment, a blip in the infinity of time. Never the same, always fleeting.

Everything is born from the ruling center of the cosmos, either directly or as a logical consequence. The jaws of a lion, the poison of a snake, indeed all evil is just a by-product of these awesome, splendid sources. As natural as a thorny bush or a muddy road. (6.36)

The cosmos is a never-ending cycle, repeating exactly the same events, over and over again, from eternity to eternity. If it’s the gods, all is well. And if it’s just a random configuration of atoms, ruled by chance, there’s no need for me to be governed by such disorder either. (9.28)

Whether it’s Alexander the Great or his mule handler, in death they are equal. Both are reduced to seed and absorbed into the logos that creates the cosmos. Or, to the same effect, randomly dispersed into atoms. (6.24)

Why resist if nothing can change the inevitable outcome? If I accept my fate as being determined by the gods, I should make myself worthy of their support. But if it all turns out to be just a roll of the dice, I am glad that at least I preserved the ruling center of my mind. (12.14)

To me, the cosmos is one living being, one and the same substance, one soul. Observe how all things return to this one cosmic sense, and how the same impulse drives all movements. How their interactions make everything happen, spinning and weaving the web of reality. (4.40) And how the elements constantly transform into each other. (7.47)

If all things are woven together into a sacred fabric, nothing is truly alien to one another. All beings capable of reason, either human or immortal, share the same logos, striving for the same perfection. (7.9)

The followers of Pythagoras looked at the morning sky to watch the stars and constellations fulfill their part in the cosmic order, always in the exact same way. (11.27) How magnificent these stars are: though separated from each other, they preserve their unity. (9.9)

Whatever you see fit is fitting to me, O cosmos. Nothing comes too early or too late for me, if it’s at the right moment for you. Anything your seasons provide is fruit to me, O mother nature. It all comes from you, in you all is present, and to you everything returns. (4.23)

Today I managed to avoid complications, or rather threw out all external issues, knowing they were the result of my own beliefs. (9.13) If we only judge the good and bad within ourselves, there is no reason to blame the divine or accuse another person. (6.41)

First of all, I love and endure my fellow human beings. But if they stand in the way of my obligations, I regard them with indifference, like the sun, the wind, or a wild animal. They may hinder my actions, but they can’t impede my intentions nor change my character. For the mind twists and shifts, turning every obstacle into an objective. What stands in the way becomes the way. (5.20)

Anything that comes to my awareness I can dissect and prevent from slipping into my mind unchecked. (7.54) So I tell myself: wash away sensations, restrain impulses, extinguish desires and keep your ruling center in control. (9.7)

Already within my chain of perceptions, I must absolutely avoid vanity and randomness, or even worse, meddling and scheming. By making it a habit to entertain only such thoughts and images that, if somebody should suddenly ask: “What are you thinking about?” I won’t have to pause before honestly answering: “this” or “that.”

As these are clearly the thoughts of a simple and sincere being, serving the community with disregard for hedonic pleasure-seeking, or a desire to be best at everything. Without jealousy, malice or anything else that would make me blush to confess it was on my mind. (3.4)

For the mind is shaped by whatever thoughts and impressions are most often entertained, giving the soul its color. For instance, wherever I can live I can live well, and even if I must live in a palace I can still be a good person.

As long as my perceptions are rooted in present reality, and my work serves the common interests of today, I am not worried at all by anything that happens from external causes. (9.6)

If the gods are willing and able to work with me, I should send them my prayers. But only to clear my mind of all fears and desires, and not be affected by anything. For this is within my power and free for me to decide, while praying for what is outside of my control would render me a slave. (9.40)

Notice how the ruling center of the mind becomes invincible when it retreats into itself, relying on its own strength and stubbornly refusing to take any order other than its own. How strong then is it, if something is decided with reason and careful consideration! Thus, a spirit free from passions is like an impenetrable fortress. (8.48)

“It’s all smoke and mirrors” as Monimus the Cynic put it; everything is judgment. (2.15) It’s up to me to remove this verdict whenever I want to. And like a ship that enters calmer waters after rounding a cape, I will find peace in a quiet bay. (12.22)

Take the impression one gets from a delicious banquet and consider how it is just the carcass of a fish, a pig or a chicken. Or from a fine Falernian wine, which is really just a drop of fermenting grape juice. This purple toga, what more is it than some sheep’s wool dyed in the blood of a little sea snail? Even sex is nothing more than the rubbing of tense body parts, releasing a small amount of liquid.

Once you pierce through the surface, you reach the essence. Life is an exercise in stripping away the outer layers and analyzing the true nature of things, especially when they are held in high regard. For it is precisely with those important matters that we throw up smoke screens and deceive ourselves. (6.13)

Thus, I must never forget to define or clearly delineate anything that presents itself to my mind, in order to see its naked essence, not just of the whole object, but of its components too. And call it by its own proper name, as well as the names of the elements it consists of, and into which it will eventually break down again.

For nothing produces greatness of mind like the ability to systematically and truthfully analyze whatever life offers, and to keep a clear eye on the way every event has its purpose in serving the cosmos. To see what value there is for the whole universe, and for the people themselves, all citizens of this Eternal City, of which all other cities are just one household.

What is this thing that demands my attention right now? What is it at its core? How long will the laws of nature allow it to exist? And most importantly, what virtue is needed to handle it correctly? Do I need kindness, or rather courage? Honesty or fidelity, simplicity or self-reliance? Which god should I honor?

Therefore, in each case I must first determine which part is divinity at work, and which part simply happened like a little thread spun by fate, woven into the cosmic fabric. Whether it’s a neighbor, a family member or a fellow human being, themselves unaware of the laws of nature at play. And above all, I must remain indifferent to those matters that simply are. (3.11)

For my soul has the capacity to place the right value on all those matters, which themselves are amoral, and thus live in the best possible way. (11.16) It makes no difference whether I’m warmed by the fire or freezing cold, well-rested or sleep-deprived, praised or criticized. Even handling a legal matter or lying on my deathbed are simply things that need to be dealt with. After all, there can be no life without death. (6.2)

If I think of myself as already dead, and my life completed, all that remains is to live in accordance with nature. (7.56) To be a better man, (4.17) and always perform the tasks at hand with Roman steadfastness and complete, simple dignity. To remain at peace with my fate, with nothing but love, freedom and justice in my heart. Acting as if today were my last. Free from vanity or emotional resistance to reason and logic, and without any hypocrisy, self-love or discontent. (2.5)

We are born for cooperation; just as feet, hands, eyelids, or upper and lower teeth work together. (2.1) Notice how nature creates charm and appeal even by accident. Take the little cracks in a loaf of bread: they were not baked in on purpose, yet somehow they render the bread even more desirable. (3.2)

Plato said it beautifully: talking about humaniteit requires us to observe earthly matters from a bird’s-eye view. Looking down upon the distant crowds and armies, the farmers at work, the marriages and divorces, the births and deaths. To view the turmoil of the courts, the many different tribes, deserted lands, festivals, markets and mournings as all entangled, a symphony of opposites. (7.48) And to see how good and evil exist for the sake of one another. (11.18)

From the cosmic substance, almost like wax, nature forms a little horse one moment, then melts it down again to create a tree, a person, or something else entirely, all to exist for a very short time. (7.23) Eventually, they must dissolve into a single whole, if indeed all matter is of the same essence. Or else disperse into atoms. (6.4) In other words: either divine providence, or blind chance. (4.3)

Words we used not long ago are now outdated, and in the same way, the names of those who were once famous are rarely mentioned today. Camillus, Scipio, Augustus. (4.33) All have faded from memory, and so have the multitudes that gave them their fame. (7.6)

Their short lives were spent in a little corner of the land, and even the longest-lasting glory is soon forgotten. Because it only continues through a succession of poor souls who hardly know themselves, let alone those long gone. (3.10)

The very people who sing my praises today will tear me down tomorrow. From a cosmic perspective, being remembered, reputation, or anything else holds no value. (9.30) For the river of eternity is a violent stream of events, (4.43) and nothing stays the same for long. (6.4)

All the generations, just leaves in the wind. Even the children are like little leaves, as are those so-called friends who curse me behind my back. Born in the spring, then scattered to the ground. (10.34)

People seek refuge in their country houses, by the sea, or in the mountains. I too long for such an escape. Utterly foolish, since I can retreat into myself at any moment. Where could I ever be as free and unburdened as in my own soul? (4.3) As Epictetus, himself a former slave, said: “No thief can steal my intentions.” (11.36)

Thus, I often ask myself: is this something I really need to do? As Democritus used to say: “Do less and be more cheerful.” But isn’t it better to do what has to be done? And what could reasonably be expected of logical and social beings, as we are by nature? Because then, the peace of mind that doing what’s right brings is added to the joy of doing fewer things. (4.24) Also, the injustice caused by inaction may be worse than the crime itself. (9.5)

Therefore, as long as reason guides my duties as a ruler, a statesman, and a citizen of Rome, let me work for the common good without complaint. (3.5) Whatever they say or do, I must remain the emerald that never loses its color. (7.15) Is gold less valuable if it is not highly praised? What about ivory and purple? A lyre, a dagger, a little flower or a tree? (4.20)

I thank the gods that I could live in accordance with nature, well beyond rhetoric and poetry. (1.17) Because all we have to guide us is the power of philosophy, there is nothing else. (2.17) Truth, justice, courage and self-control: (3.6) as long as I keep fanning the embers of my thinking, these principles can never die. (7.2) So stop talking about what a good man should be. Just be one. (10.16)

Like my dear father Antoninus, who adopted me when I was only sixteen. They say that Socrates was able to abstain from pleasures that many cannot resist, while at the same time enjoying in moderation what others indulge in. This certainly applied to you, father. In the absence of luxuries you felt no need for them, when present, you enjoyed them naturally.

Your duties were all you cared for, without any interest in the fame that your work might bring. All matters were thoroughly examined, as if you had all the time in the world: vigorously systematic, perfectly unflappable, and always in relation to each other. Up to the task, there was never anything harsh, unforgiving or violent about you.

You were there for your friends, asking nothing in return, and open to anyone who came to you in need. It was a delight to talk with you, for you made yourself agreeable without putting on a display. While ignoring the false gurus, you honored true philosophers. If you ever kept a secret, it was only for the safety of Rome. (1.16)

Looking at human history as the rise and fall of countless kingdoms and empires, one sees the future: an endless repetition of the same patterns, over and over again. Witnessing forty years of humanity is enough to know it for ten thousand years. What more is there to see? (7.49)

If it’s not a tyrant or an unfair judge who sends me away from this world, but nature itself, which welcomed me here, then how bad could that be? It’s like a director removing one of his actors from the scene: “But I’ve only performed three of the five acts” he might say. Well, you’ve been good, but in life, three acts is the whole play. After all, what brings it into being, must also determine its demise.

Now, all that remains for me is to go gently. For gentle is the one that lets me go. (12.36)