Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 5.33

Soon, very soon, you will be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name or not even a name. But name is sound and echo. And the things that are much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling, and like little dogs biting one another, and little children quarreling, laughing, and then immediately weeping.

But fidelity and modesty and justice and truth are fled up to Olympus from the widespread earth. What then is there which still detains you here? The objects of sense are easily changed and never stand still, and the organs of perception are dull and easily receive false impressions, and the poor soul itself is an exhalation from blood. But to have good repute amidst such a world as this is an empty thing.

Why then do you not wait in tranquility for your end, whether it is extinction or removal to another state?

And until that time comes, what is sufficient? Why, what else than to venerate the gods and bless them, and to do good to men, and to practice tolerance and self-restraint. But as to everything that is beyond the limits of the poor flesh and breath, to remember that this is neither yours nor in your power.

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

Whenever I have asked anyone to read this passage, they usually make it to the bit about weeping, and, if they have the patience, to the bit about the world being an empty thing. Then they stop, shrug, and comment about how they don’t need to be reminded that life is terrible.

No, I will always say, read to the good bit!

Many decades ago, a favorite phrase was “Life sucks, and then you die.” I would impishly reply with “Life only sucks if you’re worried about dying.”

Like any good Stoic, Marcus Aurelius draws attention to the things in life that are vain, shallow, and frivolous. He isn’t trying to get you down. He’s trying to convince you not to worry about the useless things, only so that you can then find happiness in useful things. This over here is completely unimportant, so now go and commit yourself to what is actually important.

I can hardly blame someone for being depressed when he is told that wealth, honor, and pleasure are a waste of time. These are, after all, the very things we’ve been told make life worth living. Make some money, become important, and have some fun, as long as having your fun doesn’t keep you from making money and seeming important. Don’t get caught. Acquire these things, and you will be happy. If I am suddenly told that none of these things are worthwhile, or can give me any contentment, or are even within my power, I will most certainly think that life, as they say, sucks.

I need to be reminded, each and every day, that the conventional wisdom about what matters in life is nothing but conventional ignorance. What kind of fool would believe that the meaning of life rests entirely in receiving things that are completely outside of us, depending only on upon what is given, not upon what we give? It’s no wonder we are so bitter, nasty, and neurotic.

There is another way. I can dispose of my obsession with what is unreliable, and I can hold to what is reliable. I can stop being like a snarling dog or a weeping child. I can make the Stoic Turn, and define my life by what I do, not by what is done to me. I don’t need to be saddened by the emptiness of my circumstances, but I can rather be liberated by not caring for my circumstances.

What remains? I can show reverence to Nature and to Providence, love my neighbor, bear hatred with compassion, and seek to rule no one but myself. These things are completely reliable, because only I will determine them. There is no one who can take them from me. That is why they are the measure of a good life, of a life worth living, of a happy life. Everything else is an accessory.

Yes, caring about what is empty and rotten is a waste of my time. I should care about what is truly sufficient, what is truly my own.

Written in 8/2006