Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.17

Happiness is a good spirit, or a good thing. What then are you doing here, O imagination?

Go away, I entreat you by the gods, as you did come, for I want you not. But you are come according to your old fashion. I am not angry with you, only go away.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 7 (tr Long)

I understand imagination here not in the broad sense of creativity, but in the more specific, Classical sense of the apprehension of our impressions. In other words, Marcus Aurelius isn’t telling us that we shouldn’t, as we now like to say, “think outside of the box”, but rather that we shouldn’t allow our lives to be ruled by the power of appearances.

This can be quite confusing, because we are so familiar with the idea that happiness is about how things feel. Yet the Stoic, in a manner similar to the Aristotelian and in contrast to the Epicurean, seeks happiness through virtue, the excellence of our thoughts and actions. The value of how we feel is in turn only relative to the merit of how well we live. Happiness is therefore a fundamentally active principle, not a passive one, and is measured by what we do, not by what is done to us.

Let me look beyond the appearances, which can be so confusing and disturbing, and which can toss me here and there, to a clear and calm understanding of the nature of things. Let me move through the image to the reality, from the realm of seeming to the depth of being. I should consider any impression of sense, and any of my own passions, only from the perspective of what I was made to do in this life, to know what is true and to love what is good, and to direct all of my judgments toward that end.

That is happiness, a commitment to the actions of living well. The rest is fantasy and illusion.

I should never resent the power of my imagination, even as I leave its effects to be for what they are. It helps me to remember all of the ways that impressions, taken only in their own right, have been an occasion for me to let myself be misled. Great pleasures or great pains have clouded my judgment. Ugly things masquerading as beautiful things have led me to hasty action, and beautiful things seeming like ugly things have led me to deep neglect. As an old friend of mine liked to say, “Look behind the veil!”

Was I impressed with someone because he was rich, or did I fall in love with someone because she was charming, or did I act only to pursue gratification and avoid hardship? How often have I taken right for wrong and wrong for right, because I chose only to be pulled by feelings, not motivated by judgment?

I will face people every day who tempt me, or who put up some sort of hindrance to me, or who enjoy, as they say, to simply push my buttons.

Let them be. Accept them, even love them, but do not follow them.

So it is with my impressions. They weave about, always changing, sometimes enticing, sometimes terrifying.

See them in their rightful place, and do not hate them, but do not let them lead you. Ask them politely to be on their own way. Do not be afraid to ask Providence to assist you in that task.

It isn’t at all that I shouldn’t be feeling, but rather that I should be doing something so much more than only feeling. 

Written in 10/2007

IMAGE: Antonio de Pereda, The Knight's Dream (c. 1650)