Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.47

Look round at the courses of the stars, as if you were going along with them; and constantly consider the changes of the elements into one another; for such thoughts purge away the filth of the earthly life.

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

Sometimes the weight of the everyday can drag us down. Situations may seem filled with frustration, discouragement, boredom, and a lack of purpose. I remind myself, however, that the problem is hardly with the situations. The problem is in my thinking.

Something is frustrating when I believe it to be a burden. Something is discouraging when I allow myself to be overwhelmed. Something is boring when I fail to find what is true and good within it. Something will only reveal its purpose when understood in relationship to other things, within the whole.

The world only seems mundane and meaningless when I am thinking small. I need to think big. No, not in the sense many will use the term, the constant quest for greater power and profit, which is still another form of small thinking. I mean thinking big in the sense, rather, of recognizing that every existing thing, however seemingly tiny or insignificant, plays a part in the harmony of all things. Nature is indeed grand and beautiful, and each little thing contributes to that grandeur and beauty.

There is a good reason we can be so impressed by the motions of the stars above, or the transformations in the natural world around us. That isn’t just something for dreamers, or poets, or hopeless romantics. To gaze upon the glory of such things is a reminder that we are all an aspect of something greater, and that all the things that seem so big when I cast my head downward actually become quite small when I raise my eyes up.

When I still lived in the city, all the pollution of fumes, noise, and light could sometimes make it harder for me to experience a sense of meaning and belonging in the world around me. Still, even then I could appreciate the vast web of connections between so many people, each one acting out his own life while still joined so completely to every other life around him. But the one thing I would always look forward to during a trip far away from the city was the chance to gaze at a clear night sky.

There are all sorts of ways to keep in touch with a sense of wonder and purpose, a profound respect for the order and balance of things both big and small. I find I can also share in it when I read a book, or smoke my pipe, or watch the birds in my yard, or go for a walk or a ride to nowhere in particular. Most of all, I can enjoy it whenever or wherever I can just stop, look, and listen. Most anywhere can actually do, if only I keep an open mind and heart.

This is all the more important when I am diverted by my self-imposed irritations and worries. I am adding all of those, and they are completely unnecessary. I will only harm myself if I obsess about my petty problems, and I will only benefit myself if I perceive everything with a proper sense of scale and proportion.

Written in 12/2007