Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 5.19

Things themselves do not touch the soul, not in the least degree, nor do they have any admission to the soul, nor can they turn or move the soul.

But the soul turns and moves itself alone, and whatever judgments it may think proper to make, such it makes for itself the things that present themselves to it.

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

In middle school, I was once surrounded by a bunch of barbarians during lunch. No, they weren’t wielding axes and maces, or wearing helmets with horns on them, but they were barbarians just the same.

I was a timid, weak, and scrawny fellow, so I knew what I had coming to me. I had never read a bit of Stoicism at that point, though I did have the benefit of the wisdom given to me by my family. I prepared for the worst.

“You can’t hurt me,” I cried.

“Yeah? We’ll beat the shit out of you, you little faggot. Will that hurt?”

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. It had become a regular occurrence over the years, and in a more refined and professional form, it became a regular occurrence for many years to come. It still happens today. The assaults just became verbal instead of physical.

Even then, I knew that they were wrong in what they did, so I tried to find something right from what I did.

“You’re better than me. Prove it.”

They did indeed prove it, on their own terms.

This is exactly what life throws at us. Those who do these things probably have no idea how they are hurting others, and I suspect they don’t even care.

All I have is to decide what to make of the hurt. There is the key.

I had spent too much time dwelling on the pain in my circumstances, in my reputation, in my body, and in my feelings. For myself, however, it was easier to take a kick in the groin than a kick to my confidence. I could easily bear physical pain, but I somehow couldn’t handle emotional pain.

Why not apply the same standard, I thought? Both kinds of suffering come from the outside, not from the inside. Both kinds of suffering are received from others, not given by me. Both kinds of suffering are the result of what is thought about me and done to me, not about what I think and do for myself.

There is then a brilliant moment of realization. There is indeed something about me that no one can ever hurt, about who I am, and not what others tell me that I am. You can’t touch that. It’s mine, and only mine. I will keep a tight hold on it, not out of arrogance, but from a sense of responsibility. My thoughts and choices are my own, not yours.

If you try to harm me, you can certainly take my body, my property, or my reputation. I might even throw them your way to keep you occupied, like a dog with a bone. You will never take my soul. The more you push at it, the stronger it gets.

You can’t hurt me. You are pissing into the wind whenever you try to prove that you can. You only make yourself worse when you try to please yourself in that way, because I rule myself without condition. How will you choose to rule yourself?

The old family wisdom was completely right.

Written in 6/2006

IMAGE: No, not those Barbarians. The other kind.