Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.44

From Plato:

But I would make this man a sufficient answer, which is this: You do not speak well, if thou think that a man who is good for anything at all ought to consider the hazard of life or death, and should not rather look to this only in all that he does, whether he is doing what is just or unjust, and the works of a good or a bad man.

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

Socrates, Plato, the Stoics, and many other seekers of wisdom from different times and places, share a common theme on what makes for the best life. It isn’t a terribly complex, obscure, or abstract principle, and can perhaps even be stated in a single sentence:

Virtue, the act of living well itself, is the highest good for human nature, and all other conditions or qualities can only be measured relative to an excellence of character.

For me, this has always meant that I must first and foremost ask myself if I am acting according to wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice, and consider if my thoughts and deeds are ordered to respecting both my own human dignity and the human dignity of others.

Should I also be rich? If it might help me build my character, then I should take it. But if it will only hinder my character, then I should leave it.

Should I also have pleasure and comfort? If it might help me build my character, then I should take it. But if it will only hinder my character, then I should leave it.

Should I also be honored and revered? If it might help me build my character, then I should take it. But if it will only hinder my character, then I should leave it.

Should I also have a healthy body over a sick body? If it might help me build my character, then I should take it. But if it will only hinder my character, then I should leave it.

Should I also live a longer life over a shorter life? If it might help me build my character, then I should take it. But if it will only hinder my character, then I should leave it.

Now that last one may sound the hardest, but I have found that all of those questions can be difficult in their own way. It is really about what I choose for my priorities, and why I might choose them. As often as I am tempted to wander away, something will always pull me back, and that is the recognition that nothing whatsoever in this world, no quality inside of me or outside of me, will be of any use if I have a crooked soul behind it all.

“Well,” I might proudly tell myself, “just look at all the things I have!” Then another part of me speaks up. “Yes, but where is the value in what I am doing?”

For the Stoic, this distinction corresponds to our circumstances and our actions, to what is beyond our power and to what is within our power. Yes, a man may be a wealthy animal, or a well-fed animal, or an admired animal, or a long-lived animal.  Being a rational animal, however, it really only matters whether he is living as a moral animal.

I find nothing more decent in myself than when I care about this, and nothing more disgusting in myself than when I say I care, but I end up doing something quite different. 

Written in 12/2007