The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Epictetus, The Handbook 22: Measures of Magnitude, and Gratitude



Keep before your eyes from day to day death and exile and all things that seem terrible, but death most of all, and then you will never set your thoughts on what is low and will never desire anything beyond measure.

—Epictetus, The Handbook, Chapter 21 (tr Matheson)

This is another one of those Stoic passages that may at first seem morbid or pessimistic. Remember that for the Stoic, neither death, nor exile, nor any other circumstance is evil; it is our own estimation of them that will make them seem evil. Rather we should keep death, and things that seem terrible, in mind not to complain about suffering, misfortune, and loss, but to put all things in their proper perspective.

If I can keep my eyes fixed on the defining landmarks, I won’t lose my way, and if I can remember the scope and scale of those crucial circumstances I must always be ready to face, I will hardly sweat the small stuff.

I often think of this in terms of an order or priorities, or what I call a measure of magnitude. Perspective can be a tricky thing. The objects closest to us seem the largest, and those furthest seem the smallest. But when I look through the appearance to the reality, I will recognize that the mountain on the horizon is far larger than the hand before my face.

So too, the little vanities and obsessions of my daily life are as nothing in magnitude to the defining milestones. Considering how I will react to the possibility of losing everything external, or the certainty of my own death, is far more important than worrying about petty offenses.

I can now be far more secure in myself, far more serene, far happier when I have prepared myself for all the impressions that seem terrible. I learn that they aren’t terrible at all if I will only chose to manage them rightly, and I will be troubled by the trifles of life even less. I shouldn’t think about death to remind myself that it is bad, but rather to remind myself about everything that is good.

Measures of magnitude can therefore be opportunities for gratitude. For myself, I can find so much greater peace when I think how silly so many of my concerns have been. When we are young, we are frustrated when those older and wiser tell us something we consider unbearable isn’t quite so bad after all, but yet we come to the exact same conclusion when we have seen more of life.

Surely death is something I shouldn’t worry about yet, something far in the future? It may be, or it could just as easily be something that will come to me right now. I think less about death being painful, or that it will end my existence, and far more about how the knowledge that there will be an end to this life asks me to consider how well I am living that life.

Am I being a good man? Have I acted out of wisdom, temperance, courage, and justice? Have I been inspired by love in all things? There is nothing as helpful as reflecting upon my mortality to help me get my house in order. If I haven’t been living as I know I should, then I can still change that right now, and since I know that clock is ticking, there is no time like the present.

To think of death, or of anything that seems a misfortune, is not to fear it; it is to see the larger perspective, and to be grateful for every opportunity I am given, whether in a long or a short life, to live with excellence. 

Written in 6/1994

Image: Philippe de Champagne, Still-Life with Skull (1671)

File:StillLifeWithASkull.jpg

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