Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 2.17

Of human life the time is a point, and the substance is in a flux, and the perception dull, and the composition of the whole body subject to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and fortune hard to divine, and fame a thing devoid of judgment.

And, to say all in a word, everything that belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul is a dream and vapor, and life is warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after-fame is oblivion.

What then is that which is able to conduct a man? One thing and only one, philosophy.

But this consists in keeping the daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures, doing nothing without purpose, nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need of another man's doing or not doing anything.

And besides, accepting all that happens, and all that is allotted, as coming from there, wherever it is, from where he himself came.

And, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful mind, as being nothing else than dissolution of the elements of which every living being is compounded. But if there is no harm to the elements themselves in each continually changing into another, why should a man have any apprehension about the change and dissolution of all the elements? For it is according to Nature, and nothing is evil which is according to Nature.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 2 (tr Long)

My own temperament can be subject to intense melancholy, so once I am reminded how frail, confused, and temporary my life is, I am easily prone to despair. That is the path I took too many times in the past, when the recognition that everything seemed like vapor would leave me only with sadness.

Stoicism offers me another path. I don’t need to wallow, nor do I need to deny that there is pain, or that life is so easily built on illusions, or that my existence is passing. Instead of succumbing to passion, or trying to excise it, I can also try to understand what all of this may mean, and to discover that there is purpose and beauty in even those things that appear the most fragile and delicate.

To say that philosophy is the solution will tempt the cynical and sneering man to protest. I spent many years in the formal study of philosophy, and many more years teaching in the academic world. I have seen people turn philosophy into a career for the pursuit of status and recognition, and I have seen philosophy become a means for trying to appear impressive. I am certain this is not what Marcus Aurelius is referring to, because these things are just another expression of vanity.

No, philosophy is not the act of pontificating about grand theory, but rather that critical point where thinking meets living. I have been given a time and a place on this earth to exist in, and a mind to make sense of it. Philosophy is when I embrace the opportunity to have these two things join together.

I attend rightly to my guiding spirit when I respect the power of my awareness and conscience to steer a safe course. I am not the master of the world, but I am the master of myself, through my own judgments and choices. My circumstances are beyond my power, but my response to them is completely within my power. What is good for me, or bad, for me, will depend entirely on what I decide I will make of whatever may happen.

Marcus Aurelius had just offered us a few guidelines for the life lived well, for an existence free from worry and violence, and he reiterates them here. I should rise above being frustrated with the world. I should not let pleasure or pain rule me. I should always, in things both big and little, remember the very purpose of the virtuous life. I should be absolutely dedicated to integrity. I should never allow my life to be determined by what others may or may not do.

But what about death and decay? The Stoic learns that death is not an evil. Just as a day will pass or a season will change, things come together, they come apart, and they then come together again into new things. In this way, Nature continually plays itself out in all its glory, the many parts in their many distinct ways serving the whole. I can certainly appreciate the beauty of this in the world around me, and I must now only accept that same beauty within myself. 

Written in 7/2015

Image: Harmen Steenwijk, Vanitas (c. 1640)