Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 4.1

That which rules within, when it is according to Nature, is so affected with respect to the events that happen, that it always easily adapts itself to that which is, and is presented to it.

For it requires no definite material, but it moves towards its purpose, under certain conditions however, and it makes a material for itself out of that which opposes it, as fire lays hold of what falls into it, by which a small light would have been extinguished. But when the fire is strong, it soon appropriates to itself the matter that is heaped on it, and consumes it, and rises higher by means of this very material.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 4 (tr Long)

The Stoics, like so many other traditions from around the world, would use the image of fire as a representation of the activity of Divine Reason, which gives order and purpose to the motion and change in all different things. Human reason, in turn, is an emanation of this Divine Reason, a sort of spark, by analogy, that proceeds from the Fire that charges the Universe.

However we may wish to understand or imagine it, the ruling principle within us is not merely something acted upon, but something that is itself a source of action. It is my own power of judgment that makes it possible for me to direct how I live, through the manner in which I think. Things will happen around me, but I can adapt myself, as Marcus Aurelius says, to whatever may happen.

It is not even the particular content of events that matters, because, in a sense, any old events will do. Raise me up or lay me down, put me here or there, in a crowd or all by myself, for all of those situations can be put in the service of what is good through the exercise of the mind.

It may even be those things that seem to oppose me most fiercely that can also be the most useful in helping me to become more virtuous.

In what was probably the lowest moment of my life, I frantically reached out for guidance from someone I trusted. Unlike most everyone else, he did not tell me I should ignore my plight, or grow hardened to it, or run away from it, or pray it away. He did not tell I was being too sensitive, or not strong enough.

“Yes, I’d call that some of the worst kind of hurt. Now what are you going to do with it?”

I expressed my worry that this would make me heartless, that I would become the very thing that had knocked me down.

“Oh no, it won’t make you heartless, though you could choose for yourself to go that way. But I have a hunch you won’t follow that path. How are you going to turn hate into love? Can you transform it?”

I began to understand what he meant, but it took me many more years to even start living it.

To employ the analogy offered by Marcus Aurelius, fire can be said to meet with things that will try to smother it, but a fire that rages and burns hot, properly tended, can consume or alter most any substance. It will not merely destroy the things that stand against it, but it will reshape and employ them to increase its own strength. Fire breaks down what it confronts, reconstitutes what it has reacted with, and thereby burns even hotter and brighter.

As a being gifted with reason, with that Divine spark, it is within my power to face what I fear might extinguish me, and to transform those conditions into moral growth. A properly tended mind can do just that. What is wrong may be rebuilt into what is right, and what I thought were bad things can then make me better. Then, in my own small way, I may participate in what is Divine.

Written in 4/2005