Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 5.11

About what am I now employing my own soul?

On every occasion, I must ask myself this question, and inquire, what I now have in this part of me that they call the ruling principle?

And whose soul do I have now? That of a child, or of a young man, or of a feeble woman, or of a tyrant, or of a domestic animal, or of a wild beast?

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5 (tr Long)

When we are asked to identify ourselves, we will usually respond by explaining our careers, our honors, or our friends. We may add where we came from, the importance of our position right now, and the places we would like to be in the future.

Yet these things are about our relationships with externals, with qualities and dispositions that are in themselves completely indifferent. Even when we speak of our attitudes, or our goals and dreams, we are still referring them to what will happen to us, not the bare measure of simply what we are thinking and doing. There is a world of difference between saying that “I will work honestly to get a promotion” and saying simply that “I will be honest.”

The questions of “who am I?” or “what am I doing?” are quite regularly deflected. It is as if the self is nothing more than a consequence of everything else around me. The Stoics regularly spoke of the soul or the mind, that power of reason by which I may judge and decide, as the ruling principle. Yet as soon as my soul is defined by what happens to me, and not by my action, it is no longer a ruling principle, but a principle of being ruled.

I knew a fellow who explained to me that his entire life had been planned around a carefully designed professional path. He would start by making a name for himself in private law practice, and then find a job working in government, preferably in a way that made him appear as a selfless public servant.

From there, he had two options, either getting appointed as a judge, or winning election to public office. It would finish off with sitting on a corporate board of directors, or becoming a university president. Everything else, his education, his home, his friends, and his family, was all a part of this plan. He was quite proud to explain the details. I could only bring myself to smile and nod, though I sensed he wanted me to congratulate him.

By all means, get elected to public office, or become an airline pilot, or serve ice cream. We may have gifts or preferences for any number of roles or occupations, but all of this is incidental to our primary task of being human. The question I should always ask myself is how I am making something of my own character, not how I am making something of myself in the eyes of others.

What is it that is truly within me? Whatever the circumstances I may find myself in, how am I choosing to live? How am I distinguishing true from false, and right from wrong? Will I try to be a good man, whether they make me a king or throw me out into the street?

“But I want to be the king, and not get thrown into the street!” That would indeed be more pleasant, but as soon as I make that my goal, I have surrendered my ruling principle. I have made the excellence of my actions subservient to the desirability of my conditions.

Strip away all the trappings, and look at what is underneath the social cosmetics. Am I a good man, striving to be understanding, compassionate and fair, committed to pursuing what is right, always maintaining discipline over myself? Or am I close-minded, heartless and selfish, a coward and a deceiver, ruled by my desires?

What kind of man am I living like within my soul? Or perhaps I am not even living the life of a man, but that of a beast?

“Who am I?” No more and no less than how much I am willing to put anything and everything on the line, right here and now, to rule myself with virtue. 

Written in 4/2006

IMAGE: Bartholomeus von Bassen, The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (c. 1620)