Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.58

What kind of people are those whom men wish to please, and for what objects, and by what kind of acts?

How soon will time cover all things, and how many it has covered already.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 6 (tr Long)

As clear, direct, and simple as Stoic principles can be, I still find myself foolishly distracted by the conventions I see around me, and then I find myself doubting. I suppose this is because he who seeks a Stoic life pursues a transformation within the self, while the ways of the world encourage a dependence on everything outside the self. Sometimes, all the show and the bravado of grasping men can make me question my commitment.

And if I happen to have my head on straight, all I need to do is remember how absurd and ridiculous the ways of fame, wealth, and power really are, and how low I will need to stoop if I follow that path. Few things help me more than having a good laugh at my own expense.

If I wish to build my reputation for its own sake, then I will need to surrender my character in favor of making the right impression. The sort of people whose attention I seek will themselves admire status and appearance, and they will be pleased by veneration and flattery. Let the games begin! There is that perverse grappling to make it to the top of the heap, to be the first to be noticed, to tell the most convincing and impressive lies, to satisfy the vanity of bloated and self-important men.

What will all of this posturing get me? Access to bigger and better trinkets and playthings. So while half of me is busy sucking up to the big man, the other half is keeping watch over a growing pile of loot. The dog begs for the bone, and then he guards it jealously.

And throughout the whole process, I will have to sell my soul. I will have to lie, cheat, steal, betray, and generally become a vile and shifty person. I am trying to impress all the wrong people, in order to acquire more useless possessions, all the time neglecting everything noble within me, the only things that could really make me whole to begin with.

A witty friend of mine once observed how rich, spoiled, and vain people would always pretend to be enjoying themselves at parties and nightclubs, but you just had to watch the forced and painfully awkward way they danced to remember that you never wanted to become like them. I can do much the same when I need to knock some sense back into myself. I can stand back for a moment, and recognizes how foolish all those silly contortions really are, how empty all that begging for influence and position makes me.

All of it will be gone before I know it, and so much of it is already gone. How vain to think that fame is lasting, that wealth is reliable, that power is permanent.

Sic transit gloria mundi. So passes the glory of the world. 

Written in 8/2007