Do
you have reason?
I
have.
Why
then do you not use it? For if this does its own work, what else do you wish?
—Marcus
Aurelius, Meditations, Book 4 (tr Long)
If I am
willing to claim that something is complete and sufficient for my happiness,
then I should also be willing to be content with that, and only with that, and
demand nothing in addition to that.
I see
all sorts of conditional Stoicism around me, just as I see many other systems
of meaning and value compromised by people trying to force other things into
them that are hardly necessary for that model, or even downright contradictory
to that model.
I also
recognize that I am best served in focusing my attention on my own failings,
because I will certainly not improve myself by dwelling on how often others get
it wrong, when my only calling is just for me to get it right. It will be
useless to worry about helping others when I can’t even help myself.
That is
the dilemma I face most every day, and I imagine it is the dilemma any struggling
Christian, or Hindu, or Buddhist, or any other person trying to become wiser
and better, also faces. I tell myself, with all apparent conviction and
sincerity, that this is all I need. Then I immediately turn around and pursue
something else, or I crave for something that leads me in a completely
different direction.
I know for
myself that I do this not out of a weakness of intention, but a weakness of totally
applied awareness. I tell myself that I know, but I don’t really know at all,
like when I told my parents I knew I had to do things a certain way, but I
didn’t really grasp all that this entailed. I rise up for the word, or for the
grand ideal, but I stumble when faced with the task.
If I
look at myself honestly, this is because I am not bringing the theory into
practice. I love the concept, yet I neglect the living. I vaguely know it in
abstraction, but I am not applying it to daily exercise. It would be as if I
admire all the achievement in running a marathon, but never bother to actually train
for it.
I will
recognize the degree of my commitment to what I say is true by what I am
willing to give for the sake of what is true.
Something
I always loved about Ancient and Medieval philosophy was the concurrence of
ideas and actions. Socrates told me that he would not let me go until I put my
money where my mouth was, and St. Augustine reminded me that all the fancy knowledge
there ever was would be useless if I lost my soul. That is usually where I have
to begin when I wake up.
The
Stoic understands that his own human nature is only perfected when he rules
himself rightly, and all he ever needs to do this is the light of his own
reason. Anything can happen to him, and he can still be his own master. I am
only failing to do this when I still believe that more money, power, or
influence will somehow add to this one purpose. Not only will that not help me,
of course, but it will also encourage me to love all the wrong things.
Adding
completely different things, all sorts of accessories and options, will just
get in the way. It isn’t about possessing more in quantity, but doing better
with what I already have in quality. When I stumble and fall, I pick myself up,
and try again to take what’s in my head and place it in my hands.
Written in 8/2005
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