Living in the best way 5

. . . "Fourth, consider that you also do many things wrong, and that you are a man like others; and even if you do abstain from certain faults, still you have the disposition to commit them, though either through cowardice, or concern about reputation, or some such mean motive, you abstain from such faults."

--Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11 (tr Long)

The order of Marcus Aurelius' principles of action follows a natural progression. These are hardly a random set of suggestions, but are rather a clear sequence, where each follows from the other.

First, I must remember that men are made for one another, and never to oppose one another. This may seem so simple, yet it is so radical. I challenge anyone to claim that he has always lived in this manner.

Second, I must consider not simply what men do, but why they might do it. The harmony of human nature will only become apparent when all of our goals are understood together.

Third, I must understand that we choose evil because we do not truly or fully understand what is good. This may help us look at others with compassion, and not with dismissal or hatred.

And now, at the fourth and next stage of our exploration, after putting myself in my proper place of perspective, I must accept that I am really no better, and no worse, than anyone else. The weakness I perceive in the man I resent is nothing more than the weakness inside myself.

Surely, though, I think that I can say that I am better? I have not lied, stolen, slandered, or damaged others in the same way that my enemy has done to me. I would like to think of myself as the better man, precisely because I have not acted as he does. If I'm not worthy of more merit, what would be the point of moral judgment?

Precisely because once I think that moral judgment makes me worth more than someone else, I have already thereby resigned my right to make such a judgment. For all of my differences from others, my human nature is no different than that of anyone else. As soon as I have cast away another, I have cast away myself.

I must clarify. I can no longer count the number of times I have treated another person with disrespect. Yet now I wish to judge another for acting as I have done, time and time again? What sort of hypocrisy is that?

Let us, for the sake of argument, assume that I have changed my ways.  I no longer act in this way. No, there are still, even now, those times when I still do, because I allow my passions to rule my reason, and I disorder Nature. And even when I do not, is it really such a far cry for me to know exactly how and why my neighbor has lived poorly?

I must remind myself, even then, how quickly I can become the same once again. Just a single change in my thinking, one small alteration, and my life will slip back to vice. No, I cannot think of myself as better. Either I have been, or I so easily could, be exactly like the person I resent.

I must also remind myself that far too often I have done a good deed, but for all of the wrong reasons. There is no merit in that, either. If I have been kind to be liked, I haven't been kind. If I have been humble because I am afraid, I haven't been humble.  If I have been magnanimous to gain influence, I haven't been magnanimous. How often may I claim a purity of motive? I may not, then, demand it of another.

I may not be a bad man, right here and now, but I have been, and I could be once again very easily, 'but for the grace of God'. No, I am no better.  I am constantly tossed and turned by my passions for pleasure, fortune, fame, power, or wealth. How can I condemn another for the exact same things I struggle with each and every day?

Call this old Stoic an old hippie, and I won't mind a bit. Only love is the law. If I can figure that out, I'm moving into the fourth stage of discernment about my thinking and living.

Written in 11/2002