Men
seek retreats for themselves, houses in the country, seashores, and mountains,
and you too are wont to desire such things very much. But this is altogether a
mark of the most common sort of men, for it is in your power whenever you shall
choose to retire into yourself.
For
nowhere, either with more quiet or more freedom from trouble, does a man retire
than into his own soul, particularly when he has within him such thoughts that
by looking into them he is immediately in perfect tranquility.
And
I affirm that tranquility is nothing else than the good ordering of the mind.
Constantly then give to yourself this retreat, and renew yourself, and let your
principles be brief and fundamental, which, as soon as you shall recur to them,
will be sufficient to cleanse the soul completely, and to send you back free
from all discontent with the things to which you return.
For
with what are you discontented? With the badness of men? Recall to your mind
this conclusion, that rational animals exist for one another, and that to
endure is a part of justice, and that men do wrong involuntarily. And consider
how many already, after mutual enmity, suspicion, hatred, and fighting, have
been stretched dead, reduced to ashes, and be quiet at last.
But
perhaps you are dissatisfied with that which is assigned to you out of the
Universe? Recall to your recollection this alternative: either there is Providence
or atoms, the fortuitous concurrence of things. Or remember the arguments by
which it has been proven that the world is a kind of political community, and
be quiet at last.
But
perhaps corporeal things will still fasten upon you? Consider then further that
the mind mingles not with the breath, whether moving gently or violently, when
it has once drawn itself apart and discovered its own power, and think also of
all that you have heard and assented to about pain and pleasure, and be quiet
at last.
But
perhaps the desire of the thing called fame will torment you? See how soon
everything is forgotten, and look at the chaos of infinite time on each side of
the present, and the emptiness of applause, and the changeableness and want of judgment
in those who pretend to give praise, and the narrowness of the space within
which it is circumscribed, and be quiet at last.
For
the whole earth is a point, and how small a nook in it is your dwelling, and
how few are there in it, and what kind of people are they who will praise you.
—Marcus
Aurelius, Meditations, Book 4 (tr
Long)
Some of
us will go on a vacation to brag, to show how prosperous we are, by all of the
exotic locations we visit. A woman I once knew was deeply angry about misplacing
her holiday photos, and I’m not sure she quite grasped the meaning of what
she said: “What’s the point of going abroad if I can’t show it off?”
That is
simply another aspect of playing the game. It isn’t even about fun, but about
appearing to have fun, so that others will be impressed, and will envy our fake
blessings.
Others
go on vacation to get away from it all. I can relate to this a bit more. Yet I
have run away so many times, whether it is a journey, or a change of life, that
I also begin to see how shallow this attitude can be. It is less a matter of where
I might be going, but more a matter of what I might be fleeing from.
Where I
grew up, working class men defined their success by the power to buy a summer home
on Cape Cod. I was told that folks in Philadelphia think they have it made when
they get a place on the Jersey Shore. In San Antonio, you need a cabin in the
Hill Country. The fortunate might make their way to Hawaii for their fun in the
sun. The absolute best of us go to the south of France.
Let us,
by all means, enjoy all the pleasures of life. The Stoic should never oppose
enjoyment. But flight can never make something right. Running from something
offers no distance at all from who we are inside of ourselves.
I have
far too often overlooked the greatest refuge Nature has given me, the comfort
of my own mind and heart. When I have run away, I was really
just trying vainly to avoid myself. I thought that moving away from the things
that hurt would make it easier, but it didn’t. I thought that changing cities
would make it easier, but it didn’t. I thought that moving from the city to the
country would make it easier, but it didn’t.
I had
everything I needed all along, but I had forgotten it.
What was
really troubling me? It was my stubbornness in facing myself. I didn’t need to
go anywhere else, or do different things. I didn’t need to retreat from myself,
but I needed to retreat within myself.
What a
treasure it is to find tranquility within oneself. It’s all there, because the
value of my life depends on the soundness of my thinking. I will then be
concerned only about the things that truly matter to me. Remove the foolish
love of false things, and I remove the worry about what I perceived as being
wrong.
Am I
frustrated by the actions of others? I need only my own action.
Am I
frustrated by what fate has given me? I need only the power of my own choice.
Am I frustrated
by greed and lust? I need only the recognition that they do not rule me.
Am I
frustrated by what others may think of me? I need only, in humble honesty, to think
well for myself.
Going
somewhere else won’t make it any better. Being someone better will make it better.
Written in 4/2005
No comments:
Post a Comment