Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.63

Constantly observe who those are whose approbation you wish to have, and what ruling principles they possess.

For then you will neither blame those who offend involuntarily, nor will you want their approbation, if you look to the sources of their opinions and appetites.

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

At those times when there is silence around me, when I have a moment to myself, when I am about to fall asleep, or just as I am waking up, I will sometimes want to beat myself over the head.

Some of my friends will speak regularly about how much they would like to knock around other people who have hurt them. I understand, but I do not agree. I once slapped a person dear to me, and I will always regret it. I never had the chance to take it back, or to make it good.

On the very few occasions that I’ve shared anything about that shameful action, others tell me that I didn’t go far enough. They are sorely mistaken.

No, I started slapping myself instead. No harm done, I thought. But why am I hurting myself? It is because of the deepest sense of shame, because I had made such poor choices, because I knew vaguely what was right, but I did exactly what was wrong. I suspect anyone with a conscience knows that feeling, what I a call “the cringe.”

Do you know that feeling where you can’t even think about what you just did? You grit your teeth, curl up, and pretend that it isn’t real? There’s the feeling.

My own cringeworthy mistakes arose from spending time with all the wrong folks, and caring for all the wrong folks. So much about them appealed to me, but all I had to do was look at what motivated these people. They were driven by their greed, their sense of gratification, and their desire to consume. I was enamored of the glory, but then I complained about the fallout.

There is no need for beating myself, and there is no need for beating anyone else. They do wrong, but they also don’t understand. They know not what they do. I do wrong, and I also don’t understand. I know not what I do.

Let me struggle to build my own wisdom, and my character will slowly follow. Do not let me blame others. Let me not even blame myself, or punish myself, but let me improve myself.

Once I see the foolishness and vanity in those I once admired, I can decide not to admire them, and I can make a very deliberate choice not to be like them. I choose to look not at the glorious appearances, but at the thoughts and desires that motivate them. And there I see the deepest rot.

Now why would I want to be liked for living that way? Why would I want to live that way for myself? Where is the good in being a scoundrel, or being loved by scoundrels?

You say yes, and you expect me to follow? I say no, and I expect better from myself. You have offered your solution, and I choose to push it aside. You are mistaken, but I will not hate you for it. I only know that I can be better, in my own way.

Take what you will from me, but don’t try to take my conscience. Hands off. 

Written in 1/2008