Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 3.8

In the mind of one who is chastened and purified you will find no corrupt matter, nor impurity, nor any sore skinned over.

Nor is his life incomplete when fate overtakes him, as one may say of an actor who leaves the stage before ending and finishing the play.

Besides, there is in him nothing servile, nor affected, nor too closely bound to other things, nor yet detached from other things, nothing worthy of blame, nothing that seeks a hiding place.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 3 (tr Long)

I have often wondered what part I am expected to play in life, whether I will manage to complete it, and how I might possibly know when the job is done. It can seem a bit like trying to assemble something without directions, or finding a destination without a map.

I may worry that I am playing a guessing game, uncertain if I have overlooked some important part, or if I took a wrong turn somewhere. I may fret about the whole outcome, and ask myself if it would be better had I only made different choices. Is this the life I was supposed to have, or did I botch it?

The very fact that I will worry in this way is itself a part of the hindrance. I am concerned whether, as Marcus Aurelius says, fate has overtaken me. This is only a problem, however, if I am defining myself by my circumstances, if I am enslaved by what goes on around me. It hardly makes a difference what the conditions of my life may be, or how all the pieces are lined up, but rather how I go about thinking and acting, whatever the situation is. I’m so obsessed with having my ducks in a row, that the ducks have made me forget myself.

This is why it doesn’t matter if my life is long or short, rich or poor, revered or reviled. I may play the lead, with my name in lights, or I may play a bit part. I may even just sweep the stage after the show. I shouldn’t bother myself with where I may be located, or if I am in the situation I’m somehow supposed to be in. Nature will take care of all of that on her own, and she only asks me to act with virtue, whatever comes my way.

I see this as being what is “purified” about a Stoic life. I can remove what is extraneous, whatever ties me down to worrying about having the world ordered in just the right manner. The world already is ordered as it should be, and I just need to order myself. I am not separated from other things, but I am also not ruled by them.

I sometimes think of a Stoic liberty like an artist who is able to work in any medium. He is able to make something beautiful, whatever he may have at hand.

I think of my wife, who has the knack of throwing together a delicious meal from anything that happens to be in the pantry. She doesn’t need a cookbook, and her instincts are such that she has long abandoned measuring cups.

I think of my father, who told me that an education doesn’t really depend as much on the school you go to, but on what you find for yourself wherever you attend.

I’ve heard it attributed to Yogi Berra, the Buddha, or Confucius, but I first learned it from Buckaroo Banzai: “No matter where you go, there you are.”

Some people tell me it’s all about “being in the right place” in your life, but I have started to think it’s more about doing the right thing, wherever I happen to be. I may not know how the plot will unfold, but I don’t need to. I have the moral equipment to manage myself however it may go, or whenever it may end. 

Written in 1/2005

Image: Actors and aulos player, Roman mosaic from Pompeii