Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.57

Consider yourself to be dead, and to have completed your life up to the present time; and live according to Nature the remainder that is allowed you.

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

To live life in the now, happy with who we are and how we act at this very moment, is a classic principle of Stoicism.

It follows not from any brooding terror of sudden death, but rather from the insight that what has been in the past, or what might be in the future, or even the external circumstances in the present, do not define the value of our lives. It is what we ourselves choose to think and do right now, bound to nothing else but our own virtue in action, that can make life complete, leaving nothing more to be desired.

I often think of it like a field test for moral self-sufficiency. If my life were to end immediately, or if everything in the world around me were suddenly to fall away, would I still be able to say with confidence that I am happy? How much of my sense of self actually depends on the past, the future, or on any sort of condition that is completely beyond my own power? Is it about what I am doing, or about what is done to me?

I am deceived if I understand living in the now only as an excuse for immediate gratification, thinking that I should just have my fun while I still can. Pleasure in itself is never a measure of worth, because it looks to the feeling received, not to the good or evil of what is done. It is hardly even about me, since it does not depend on the merit of my actions. It isn’t a self-sufficiency at all, but a form of slavery.

I am mistaken if I believe that I am living well, when most of what I consider good actually follows from things other than me. My possessions, my place of honor, or my positions of importance are not reflections on my character, but are rather things that come to me. What an error to say that I am happy because of my fine home, or my wonderful job, or my beautiful children. No, a good man lives well in any place, commits himself gladly to any work, and loves anyone who enters into his life.

I am misled if I confuse who I am now with who I once was, or who I might become. If I think I am happy because of something I once did, or because of something I intend to do, I am not being anything at all, but only remembering and expecting. Should it be done? Whether I did it in the right or the wrong way before, do it in the right way now. If I can do it now, why wait until later? Only now is guaranteed.

“I told her I loved her last week, and I’ll tell her again next week.” No, tell her now. And it doesn’t matter if she says it back or laughs in your face.

I try to imagine each moment as a complete whole, accepting each as it is by itself, and acting within each as if it were the only moment there will ever be. If it is indeed the last, then I can be satisfied. If I am given another moment, I can pass on the dignity of the one to the other, content with each for its own sake. 

Written in 1/2008